There is one place in Blithepoint where the chef can cook, though he shirks pommes soufflées. You go downstairs to it--unless you choose the hotel entrance--and it was in the restaurant downstairs that Conrad ordered the luncheon on Monday. He meant to say things at luncheon. But when Rosalind and Tattie arrived, there was a bomb-shell with the hors d'oeuvres. "Mr. Quisby has bolted!" they cried, taking their seats. "Bolted?" he echoed. "How do you know?" "Queenie Vavasour and Miss Jinman have been to his rooms this morning. They went to tell him they must have some money. He has gone, he went last night--with our concert sixpences." "I say!" exclaimed Conrad. He was by this time almost a member of the Company. "What are we all going to do?" "It's a nice fix," continued Rosalind, reproachfully. "I told you this would happen, I never thought he'd be able to take us on anywhere else--never for a moment. Didn't I warn you?" "You did," said Conrad. "Oh! I admit it. Will you have a sardine, or----? Miss Lascelles, let me give you some of the pretty ones with the red and yellow." "I told you all along," repeated Rosalind, "that girls could do nothing for themselves in a matter like that; that it needed a man to take it up. Now, didn't I say so?" "You said so several times. But you didn't suggest what I should do. I couldn't menace him with a revolver." "Men are so lazy!" she smiled. "You may smile," said Conrad reprovingly, "but it's very serious for us. We are all out of an engagement." "Yes," she agreed. "And goodness only knows when you'll get one again!" "That's sheer spite--you're jealous of my talent. Miss Lascelles, tell her I can't be out of an engagement long." "With all his experience?" cried Tattie. "His notices as 'Buttercup' were immense!" "Poor Miss Jinman!" sighed Rosalind; "I'm sorry for that old woman." She nodded at Conrad. "You should see her this morning!" "I want to see her," he declared, "or rather, I want one of you to see her for me. You know we've all got to stick together in this thing, and----" "And 'be loyal to the show!'" said Tattie. "No, but joking aside, I want you girls to help me straighten things out. I was going to talk to you about it anyhow. Now tell me--what do they all want?" "I suppose they all want a 'shop,'" Tattie answered. "I can't give them a 'shop'--I'm not in the business--but I might send them home with a few of the Best in their pockets. How would that do?" They lifted their heads, and looked at him; and the waiter put the soup on the table. "Did you mean it?" murmured Rosalind when the waiter had turned his back. "Well, of course. Now this looks very good; let's enjoy our lunch! We seem to be getting on a bit, so we needn't worry. Don't you think you ought to take your jacket off--you'll be cold when you go out?" "No, I've loosened it," she said. "But--er--do you know I'd rather you didn't do that? I--I think they could all manage without."