“Well, I’ll be off. Just about time to make the train. Don’t worry if I’m not back to-night. There might be something to detain me, but I’ll make the first train out in the morning at the latest. Dress rehearsal at eleven, you know. Look after that for me, will you? And be sure everybody understands. By-by.” She nodded gayly to him, but her face sobered as she went on with her breakfast. The success of this venture meant almost as much to her as it did to Demarest, and she was wrapped up in it. Presently she finished, and arose from the table. She meant to go for a little stroll, and for that reason she wore her hat, and carried a long fur coat on her arm. One of the bell boys held this while she slipped into it, and then she turned toward the door, drawing on her gloves as she made her way slowly toward it. All at once she gave a quick little gasp, as her eyes fell upon a man standing by the desk, and turned her head swiftly the other way. But she was too late. The next instant Ralph Bryton had spied her, and stepped to her side. “Good morning, my dear,” he said, with an attempt at geniality. “I saw by the register that you had arrived last night.” The girl did not glance at him, but went steadily on her way. “Good morning, Mr. Bryton,” she returned frigidly. There was a disagreeable note in the man’s laugh. “How very formal we are,” he said sarcastically. “I can remember the time, not so very long ago, when it was Ralph.” “You know perfectly well that was on your father’s account,” she retorted. “Brought up as I was in his house, I could scarcely have called you anything else while he was alive. Now I can follow my own inclinations.” The man’s face darkened. They had reached the door, and, as she was about to pass out, he put out one hand swiftly, and held the knob. “One moment,” he said shortly. “I must have a few minutes’ talk with you before you go out. Oh, it’s about business,” he went on bitterly, as a repugnance flashed across her face. “I want to talk to you about Demarest and this fool play of his.” She glanced at him. “What is it you wish to say?” she inquired briefly. Bryton indicated with his hand a couple of chairs in a corner near by, and, after a moment’s hesitation, she took one of them. “You’ve got to pull out of this company of his at once,” he said, in a hard voice, as he dropped down beside her. Marion Gray’s eyes widened, and a little color crept into her face. “You’re a cool proposition,” she remarked, “to tell me what I must, or must not, do. Do you imagine for an instant that I would break a contract, and desert a man the very day before the opening? I thought you knew that I always played fair.”