'Ah, Chris, my son; it's you, is it? This is a rum go, isn't it? Where's Turk?' 'He'll be here presently. You mean about the theatre, don't you?' 'I do, my son. So our fair friend doesn't make her appearance after all. Well, the loss is the public's. The stage is going to the dogs. Going! Gone, I should say. Not conducted on straight principles, my son. Elements introduced into the management of theatrical matters which have no business there at all. Where's your school for acting nowadays, I should like to know. How do men and women come to be actors and actresses? Where's the education for the profession? Once upon a time--ah, well, no matter. Drown dull care. Anything to drink about?' He looked around for the desired bottle. I could not assist him in his search, and did not desire to do so, for it seemed to me that he had already had a glass too much. 'Closed through the indisposition of the new actress!' he continued. 'That's the way the public is gulled. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in their philosophy. Look here, my son. A word in your ear.' This word in my ear was a whispered request for a trifling loan of two shillings and sevenpence. He always asked for loans in a whisper, even when there was no third person near. It was not the first time I had lent old Mac small sums of money, and I pulled three shillings from my pocket, not having the coins for the exact sum. He gravely gave me fivepence change. 'Thank you, my son,' he said, 'and now, a word to the wise. On a certain morning you and I went to the Rialto--no, to a rehearsal in which our fair friend took part.' 'Yes.' 'You confided your woes to me, not in words perhaps, but in look, accent, manner. Old Mac knows the signs. The liquid eye, the tremulous tone, the sighs that come unbidden. I saw them all, my son, and my sympathising breast received them as a sacred deposit. You remember the lines I quoted: "Her lips to mine how often did she join!" But I see that you are impatient, my son. You said to me then that you believed that I was your friend. I answered in suitable terms. The word to the action, the action to the word. Shake hands, my son.' By this time I had fully made up my mind that old Mac was tipsy, although he was as steady as a rock; it was only his voice that betrayed him. 'To continue. You drew my attention to two persons who shall be nameless, one of whom was paying attentions to the other, and you asked what it meant. I replied in general terms, and after warning you to beware of the green-eyed monster, I said that I would find out, in a quiet way, what those intentions meant, and that I would let you know, in a quiet way. Am I correct, and do you follow me?' I said that he was quite correct, and that I was following his words. 'I placed myself at once in communication with our fair friend----' I was surprised into an exclamation by this information. In no way disturbed, old Mac went on.