"Hello, Miss Thursday! I was beginning to wonder whether you'd forgotten me. I'm going to run down to Port Madison until Monday morning--last chance I'll have for a day in the country for some time, probably. Chances are, Wilbrow will keep us at work next Sunday. Got that 'script all ready?" Joan, depositing it on the table, murmured an affirmative in a voice uncontrollably unsteady. Before entering she had been quite sure of her ability to carry off the short interview without betraying her harrowed emotions. But to find the man about whom they centred packing to leave town--to leave her!--added the final touch of misery to her mood. And the inflection of her response could not have failed to strike oddly on his hearing. Uttering a wondering "_Hello!_" he straightened up and swung round to look at her. And a glance sufficed: his smile faded, was replaced by a pucker of sympathy between his brows. "Why, what's the trouble?" Joan averted her face. "N-nothing," she faltered. Her lip trembled, her eyes filled anew. She dabbed at them with a wadded handkerchief. Matthias hesitated. He drew down the corners of his mouth, elevated his brows, and scratched a temple slowly with a meditative forefinger. Then he nodded sharply and, crossing to the door, closed it. "Tell me about it," he said, coming back to the girl. "Things not going to suit you, eh?" She shook her head, looking away. "I--I--!" she stammered--"_I_ can't act!" "O nonsense!" he interrupted with kindly impatience. "You mustn't get discouraged so easily. Naturally it comes hard at first, but you'll catch on. Everything of this sort takes time. I was saying the same thing to Wilbrow today." "Yes," she mumbled, gulping--"I--I know. I was watching you. H-he and Mr. Rideout wanted to fire me, didn't they?" "What? Oh, no, no!" Matthias lied unconvincingly. "They--they were just wondering.... I assured them--" "But you hadn't any right to!" the girl broke in passionately. "I can't act and--and I know it, and you know it, as well as they do. I can't--I just can't! It's no use.... I'm no good...." Of a sudden she flopped into a chair, rested her head on arms folded on the table, and sobbed aloud. Matthias shook his head and (since she could not see him) permitted himself a gesture of impotent exasperation. This was really the devil of a note! Women were incomprehensible: you couldn't bank on 'em, ever. Here was he preparing to catch a train, and not too much time at that.... But a glance at the clock reassured him slightly; he had still a little leeway. All the same, he didn't much relish the prospect of being compelled to invest his spare minutes in attempting to comfort a silly, emotional girl. And, besides, somebody in the hallway might hear her sobbing....