‘But there are many actresses who play leading parts all at once, don’t you know,’ said Harold Greenwood. ‘I know a young lady who acted “Juliet” on her first appearance, at a _matinée_. What do you say to that, Miss Vere, eh?’ ‘I say she may have _attempted_ the part, but I am quite sure she never _acted_ it as it should be done. “Juliet” is at once the most beautiful and most difficult of Shakespeare’s creations, and in the hands of a novice it becomes a burlesque.’ ‘But she had heaps of bouquets, you know,’ argued Mr Greenwood: ‘the stage was quite covered with them.’ ‘Flowers do not denote a success now-a-days,’ replied Miss Vere, ‘and to an amateur they become a very empty compliment. If your lady friend wished to gratify her vanity, and prove how well she looked in antique dresses, she might have found a less ridiculous and expensive way of doing it. You may think I am a little hard, perhaps,’ she added, ‘but I confess I _am_ severe on those amateurs, who have done so much towards lowering the _prestige_ of one of the most noble professions in the world.’ ‘Oh, Miss Vere, you make us feel so small!’ cried Alice. ‘I shall never dare attempt the part of “Julia,” after what you have said.’ ‘My dear girl, what nonsense! My remarks were never meant to apply to our projected amusement. You will certainly take “Julia,” and make a very charming “Julia” into the bargain; and I am sure Captain Lovell will make a “Faulkner” to match. The captain bowed. ‘If I could only have been the lover of “Lydia Languish,”’ he said. ‘Go along, you humbug!’ cried the actress merrily; ‘you know that “Faulkner” will become twice as natural an impersonation in your hands. Indeed, I think you will have to moderate your dramatic ardour a little, or we shall have a certain young gentleman in uniform interrupting the rehearsals--eh, Miss Leyton?’ ‘I don’t know what you’re alluding to,’ said Alice, with a vivid blush. ‘It must be something to do with the temperature of these latitudes,’ observed Miss Vere meaningly, ‘but I observe that the further south we go, the harder Miss Leyton finds it to understand any of my hints.’ ‘Now you are growing abusive, so I shall run away,’ replied Alice merrily, as she turned to the after-part of the vessel. Captain Lovell raised his hat to Miss Vere, and followed her. ‘Oh! are _you_ here?’ she said, with well-affected surprise, as having ensconced herself by the wheel-house, she found the captain seated by her side. ‘Yes! Am I intruding?’ demanded Lovell. ‘Oh, no! of course not; besides, the wheel-house does not belong to me. Only I wish--’ said the girl, looking down--‘I _do_ wish people wouldn’t be disagreeable, and talk so.’ ‘I wouldn’t mind their talking, if it wasn’t true,’ remarked Lovell; ‘but I cannot help understanding Miss Vere’s allusions, and I suppose they mean that you’re engaged to be married to Mr Blythe. Is that the case, Miss Leyton?’ ‘Well, not exactly.’ ‘Is it only her nonsense?’