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 it, while Janvier rolled back her sleeves like a cross between Brunnhilde and strong-armed Katrinka, her fancy young man sitting on a lounge smoking cigarettes through an ivory mouthpiece and pretending not to know that all the girls were talking about him and the trick way he'd done his eyebrows. Mrs. Pender purring and placating and loving the whole God-awful mess because it gave her such a good chance to be tactful. If Alcie had been given the hook instead of Hilda, Mrs. Pender would have devoted the rest of her life to running Janvier off the stage, if she had to gas her.

"Just then I was called out to the telephone, and a few minutes later came back fairly bursting with the news that Morty Pearn had subscribed the final thousand we needed, Janvier saw me come blurting in and grabbed me by the shoulders. 'Here's a girl,' she shouted, 'who looks plausible. At least she isn't sound asleep.' She shoved a broomstick into my hand, saying it was a sacred banner, and pushed me across the room. 'Walk over there,' she commanded, 'and don't budge. I'll tell you what to do when it's your cue. Meanwhile be feeling like a Marshal of France with secret orders from God Almighty.'

"So that's what I'm doing in it, and why. I felt beastly about poor Hilda, but did what I was told. Janvier was decent to her afterwards and explained that acting was a brutalizing profession and no nice person should ever go in for it. She told me I had