where they crossed a few
blocks off, and the bunches of light on the Madison Square Garden, and
to the lights on the boats of the East River. From below in the
streets came the rattle of hurrying omnibuses and the rush of the
hansom cabs. If Mr. Caruthers was surprised at this late visit, he hid
it, and came forward to receive his caller as if his presence were
expected.

"Excuse my costume, will you?" he said. "I turned in rather early
to-night, it was so hot." He pointed to a decanter and some soda
bottles on the table and a bowl of ice, and asked, "Will you have some
of this?" And while he opened one of the bottles, he watched Van
Bibber's face as though he were curious to have him explain the object
of his visit. "No, I think not, thank you," said the younger man. He
touched his forehead with his handkerchief nervously. "Yes, it is hot,"
he said.

Mr. Caruthers filled a glass with ice and brandy and soda, and walked
back to his place by the mantel, on which he rested his arm, while he
clinked the ice in the glass and looked down into it.

"I was at the first night of 'The Sultana' this evening," said Van
Bibber, slowly and uncertainly.

"Oh, yes," assented the elder man, politely, and tasting his drink.
"Lester's new piece. Was it any good?"

"I don't know," said Van Bibber. "Yes, I think it was. I didn't see
it from the front. There were a lot of children in it--little ones;
they danced and sang, and made a great hit. One of them had never been
on the stage before. It was her first appearance."

He was turning one of the glasses around between his fingers as he
spoke. He stopped, and poured out some of the soda, and drank it down
in a gulp, and then continued turning the empty glass between the tips
of his fingers.

"It seems to me," he said, "that it is a great pity." He looked up
interrogatively at the other, but Mr. Caruthers met his glance without
any returning show of interest. "I say," repeated Van Bibber--"I say
it seems a pity that a child like that should be allowed to go on in
that business. A grown woman can go into it with her eyes open, or a
girl who has had decent training can too. But it's different with a
child. She has no choice in the matter; they don't ask her permission;
and she isn't old enough to know what it means; and she gets used to it
and fond of it before she grows to know what the danger is. And then
it's too late. It seemed to me that if there was any one