"Oh, they're better than supers--different class, you know. Of course they've nothing to say, except in chorus. They come on in the race-course scene and the ball-room and look nice. They wear swagger frocks--the management finds their dresses--and are supposed to murmur, and laugh, and act in dumb-show in the background. _You_ know! They're frightful fools--a girl who _could_ act a bit would stand out among extra ladies like a Bernhardt at the Ladbroke Hall." "If they'd take me," said Mamie, clasping her hands; "if they'd only take me! Do you really think they will?" "It couldn't hurt to try. Ask for Mr. Casey and tell him you want to 'walk on.' There, I've given you a hint, after all!" she exclaimed, as she got up; "one can't think of everything right off. It might prove a start for you; who knows? If Casey sees you're intelligent, he may give you a line or two to speak. You go up to one of the principals, and say, 'Lord Tomnoddy, where's that bracelet you promised to send me when I saw you at Kempton Park?' Then the low-comedy merchant--it's generally the low-comedy merchant you speak to--says something that gets a laugh, and bustles up the stage, and you run after him angrily. But don't be sanguine, even of getting on as an extra! There's always a crowd of women besieging the Queen's at every production--you won't be the only pretty one. Well, I must be going, my dear. I wish you luck." "And luck to _you!_" said Mamie, squeezing her hand gratefully; "and many, many thanks. I look forward to telling you the result. I suppose we're sure to see each other at Mr. Passmore's?" "Oh, we're bound to run against each other somewhere before long," returned Miss Forbes cordially. "Yes, I shall be curious to hear what you do; I've enjoyed our chat very much. Take care of yourself!" She hurried towards her bus, waving au revoir, and Mamie crossed the road. London widened between the girls--and their paths in it never met again. CHAPTER IV As she reached the opposite pavement Heriot exclaimed: "Miss Cheriton! Are you going to cut me?" "You?" she cried with surprise. "It was--it was the fog's fault; I didn't see. What a stranger you are! it's a fortnight since you came out to us. A 'fortnight,' you observe--I'm 'quite English, you know,' now." "You're in good spirits," he said. "What have you been doing?" "I've been rising in my career," she answered gaily; "I have had tea in a cakeshop with an actress. I have just shaken hands with her; she has just given me a piece of advice. I am, in imagination, already a personage." "Who is she?" asked Heriot. "Where does she come from?... Let me see you to Victoria; I suppose that's where you are going?" He stopped a hansom, and scrutinised her sadly as they took their seats. "Have you been out in this weather long?" he said. "You poor child, how wet you must be! Well, you know an actress. Aren't you going to tell me all about it?"