Jimmy went, and discovered Bennett Godsby, in a sense, in the bosom of his family--that family consisting of Mrs. Bennett Godsby, and a young and rather plump Miss Bennett Godsby. Mrs. Bennett Godsby had at one time appeared with her husband; Jimmy seemed to understand that there must have been acrimonious discussions when the time came when Mrs. Bennett Godsby was no longer young enough, nor slim enough, to play lead with him. She had the appearance, not only of being very plump, but of threatening to be plumper; she was somewhat negligently dressed, and she wore even at that early hour all the rings that could possibly be got on her short fingers. Mr. Bennett Godsby introduced Jimmy, and then led the young man into another room in order to talk business. "Now, my dear Larrance," he began, "I confess I'm a little disappointed. I don't know how it is--but you haven't quite hit it; at least, that's how it strikes me. I suppose it's lack of experience, or something of the sort--or perhaps I was mistaken when I thought there was a play in the thing after all. It won't carry; there's nothing in it to grip 'em." "I'm sorry," said Jimmy, with a sinking feeling at his heart. "Perhaps you could suggest----" "Just what I'm going to do," said Mr. Godsby, sitting down and drawing Jimmy's synopsis towards him. "You know"--he looked up with a pained expression--"this thing has worried me more than you think. You'll understand that men like myself--men who live for their art--are bound to understand and to feel the characters they portray. I can assure you I've found myself speaking abruptly to Mrs. Bennett Godsby--in the fashion in which I imagine the man in your play would speak. She's been surprised. 'Bennett,' she has said to me, 'what is this? What is troubling you?' She knows; she's been through the mill herself--only, of course, in a smaller way. I should love to play that character," he added, with a sigh, as he tapped the paper. Jimmy sat silent; he did not know what to do or what to say. More than that, he dared not break in upon the reflections of Mr. Bennett Godsby, for that gentleman was evidently thinking deeply. After a moment or two the actor got up and strolled across the room, and frowned at a picture; turned round, and frowned upon Jimmy by way of a change. "It's lack of experience--that's what it is," he said, nodding his head sagely. "On my part?" Jimmy looked anxious. "Yes, sir, on your part. The brain is there--the creative force, if I may say so; but you can't convey things. Now, if only I had the time to set to work on that myself--but, of course, one mustn't interfere with another man's work. Oh, no--not to be thought of."