“But, great heavens! if you make him lovable the character's ruined. Besides, the audience won't want to see him lose the girl at the end and 'Donald Grey' get her!” “No, they won't; that's it exactly,” said Potter thoughtfully. “You'll have to fix that, Mr. Canby. 'Roderick Hanscom' will have to win her by a great sacrifice in the last act. A great, strong, lovable man, Mr. Canby; that's the kind of character I want to play: a big, sweet, lovable fellow, with the heart of a child, that makes a great sacrifice for a woman. I don't want to play 'egoists'; I don't want to play character parts. No.” He shook his head musingly, and concluded, the while a light of ineffable sweetness shone from his remarkable eyes: “Mr. Canby, no! My audience comes to see Talbot Potter. You go over these other acts and write the part so that I can play myself.” The playwright gazed upon him, inarticulate, and Potter, shaking himself slightly, like one aroused from a pleasant little reverie, turned to the waiting figure of the girl. “What is it, Miss Malone?” he asked mildly. “Did you want to speak to me?” “You told Mr. Packer to ask me to wait,” she said. “Did I? Oh, yes, so I did. If you please, take off your hat and veil, Miss Malone?” She gave him a startled look; then, without a word, slowly obeyed. “Ah, yes,” he said a moment later. “We'll find something else for Miss Lyston when she recovers. You will keep the part.” V When Canby (with his hair smoothed) descended to the basement dining room of his Madison Avenue boarding-house that evening, his table comrades gave him an effective entrance; they rose, waving napkins and cheering, and there were cries of “Author! Author!” “Speech!” and “Cher maitre!” The recipient of these honours bore them with an uneasiness attributed to modesty, and making inadequate response, sat down to his soup with no importunate appetite. “Seriously, though,” said a bearded man opposite, who always broke into everything with “seriously though,” or else, “all joking aside,” and had thereby gained a reputation for conservatism and soundness--“seriously, though, it must have been a great experience to take charge of the rehearsal of such a company as Talbot Potter's.” “Tell us how it felt, Canby, old boy,” said another. “How does it feel to sit up there like a king makin' everybody step around to suit you?” Other neighbors took it up. “Any pretty girls in the company, Can?” “How does it feel to be a great dramatist, old man?” “When you goin' to hire a valet-chauffeur?” “Better ask him when he's goin' to take us to rehearsal, to see him in his glory.” “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” said the hostess deprecatingly, “Miss Cornish is trying to speak to Mr. Canby.”