"I don't think the piece will last a month," she said to Rosalind, in her lugubrious bass. "It isn't amusing at all. Vulgar, very vulgar! I may be too critical; I'm used to such high-class things, as you know--my notices as 'Buttercup' were immense--but I call it a 'rotter.' I see a frost, a killing frost, my dear! I keep my opinion to myself"--she was disseminating it with gusto--"I don't want to give the others the hump, but I see us all out of a shop till the spring comes." "Oh, you're always croaking, Miss Jinman," snapped a black-eyed girl with golden hair. "Give us a chance, do!" "A chance?" returned Miss Jinman heavily. "Chit, you have no chance. It's only kindness to tell you so." "Thanks for being so kind!" said the girl. She had not been long on the stage. Her married sister kept "Dining Rooms" in Holloway, and less than a year ago the "artiste" had served as waitress there and been ordered to "'Urry up with that there Yorkshire-pudden." "You will never do any better than you're doing," affirmed Miss Jinman. "And I could say as much to others present if I hadn't too much consideration for their feelings. To more than one!" she added significantly. "Look at _me_, with all my experience! And _I_ am clever, and _I_ can sing; my notices as 'Buttercup' were immense. And where am I now? On a pier with amateurs--amateurs and novices. I don't know what the Profession is coming to--it's a very different thing to what it was when _I_ was in my prime!" "I expect most things have woke up a bit since then," said the golden-haired brunette; "the bringing in of railways must have made such a difference." "Small-part people were taught to respect the principals," said Miss Jinman sternly. "Minxes kept their places." "It's a pity you couldn't keep yours," said the dark one with the golden locks. But harmony was restored during the next selection by the band. There was a little sleet blowing when the audience straggled homeward. The lights of the Belle Vue Hotel were not put out yet, and carelessly, Miss Jinman observed that the people inside must be warmer than _she_ was. Rosalind took the hint. It is only in the lowest ranks of the theatrical profession that the ladies refresh themselves in bars; a second-rate provincial actress would wither the person who invited her; but Miss Jinman and Miss Lascelles had adapted their manners to their company, and it was a very humble Company indeed. So they went into the Lounge, and sat down. Another professional lady came in, and inquired generously, "Are you drinking, girls?" Miss Lascelles said, "Yes, we've got port wine." "Serve you right," said the other lady, with a pretty wit.