"Capital!" Mr. Earles declared. "Any choice as to which of the Halls? You can pick and choose, you know. I recommend the 'Unusual.'" "I have no choice," Anna declared. "I can get you," Mr. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, "forty at the 'Unusual,' two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. We should not bar any engagements at private houses, but in other respects the arrangement must be exclusive." "Forty what?" Anna asked bewildered. "Guineas, of course," Mr. Earles answered, glibly. "Forty guineas a week. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad." Anna was speechless, but she had presence of mind enough to sit still until she had recovered herself. Mr. Earles watched her anxiously. She appeared to be considering. "Of course," he ventured, "I could try for more at the 'Alhambra.' Very likely they would give----" "I should be satisfied with the sum you mention," Anna said quietly, "but there are difficulties." "Don't use such a word, my dear young lady," Mr. Earles said persuasively. "Difficulties indeed. We'll make short work of them." "I hope that you may," Anna answered enigmatically. "In the first place, I have no objection to the posters, as they have no name on them, but I do not wish to appear at all upon the stage as 'Alcide.' If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. You are taking it for granted that I am 'Alcide.' As a matter of fact, I am not." "Excuse me," Mr. Earles said, "but this is rubbish." "Call it what you like," Anna answered. "I can sing the songs 'Alcide' sang, and in the same style. But I will not be engaged as 'Alcide' or advertised under that name." Mr. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. Then a light seemed to break in upon him. He slapped his knee. "By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Of course, I remember now. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn't it?" Anna nodded. "It was," she admitted. "You needn't say a word more," Mr. Earles declared. "I see the difficulty. The old fool's been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage. He's a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir John--doesn't know what an artist is. It's awkward, but we'll get round it somehow. Now I'll tell you what I propose. Let me run you for six months. I'll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night. What do you say?" "I agree," Anna said coldly, "if you will make it three months." "Better say six," Mr. Earles protested, seating himself before the desk, and dipping his pen in the ink. "Four," Anna decided firmly. "I shall not agree to six." "It scarcely gives me a chance," Mr. Earles said, with a resigned sigh, "but I shall rely upon you to stick to me so long as I do the right thing by you. You can't do without an agent, and there's no one can run you better than I can."