But to-day as she passed the main entrance and made her way through a side-passage to the stage-door, she tingled with a keener thrill than she had ever felt before. "Is Miss Smelts here?" she asked a man who was going in as she did. "Smelts?" he repeated. "What does she do?" "She dances." He shook his head. "Nobody here by that name," he said, and hurried on. Nance stood aside and waited, with a terrible sinking of the heart. She waited a half hour, then an hour, while people came and went. Just as she was about to give up in despair, she saw a tall, handsome girl hurry up the steps and come toward her. She had to look twice before she could make sure that the imposing figure was Birdie. "Hello, kid," was Birdie's casual greeting. "I forgot all about you. Just as cute looking as ever, eh! Where did you get that hat?" "Ten-cent store," said Nance, triumphantly. "Can you beat that?" said Birdie. "You always did have a style about you. But your hair's fixed wrong. Come on down to the dressing-room while I change. I'll do it over before you see Reeser." Nance followed her across a barn of a place where men in shirt-sleeves were dragging scenes this way and that. "Mind the steps; they are awful!" warned Birdie, as they descended into a gas-lit region partitioned off into long, low dressing-rooms. "Here's where I hang out. Sit down and let me dude you up a bit. You always did wear your hair too plain. I'll fix it so's it will make little Peroxide Pierson green with envy." Nance sat before the mirror and watched Birdie's white fingers roll and twist her shining hair into the elaborate style approved at the moment. "Gee! it looks like a horse-collar!" she said, laughing at her reflection. "What you going to do to me next?" "Well, I haven't got much to do on," said Birdie, "but you just wait till I get you over to my room! I could fit you out perfect if you were just a couple of sizes bigger." She was putting on a pair of bloomers herself as she spoke, and slipping her feet into her dancing slippers, and Nance watched every movement with admiring eyes. "Come on now," Birdie said hurriedly. "We got to catch Reeser before rehearsal. He's the main guy in this company. What Reeser says goes." At the head of the steps they encountered a gaunt, raw-boned man, with an angular, expressive face, and an apple in his long neck that would have embarrassed Adam himself. "Well! Well!" he shouted at them, impatiently, "come on or else go back! Don't stand there in the way." "Mr. Reeser, please, just a minute," called Birdie, "It's a new girl wants to get in the chorus." The stage-manager paused and looked her over with a critical eye. "Can she sing?" "No," said Nance, "but I can dance. Want to see me?" "Well, I think I can live a few minutes without it," said Reeser dryly. "Ever been on before?" "No; but everybody's got to start some time." Then she added with a smile, "I wish you'd give me a chance."