In consequence Wynne was left to his own thoughts, which, on this particular night, he found both pleasant and companionable. It was good to feel that at last he would be earning a livelihood by means of an Art, and a good Art too. Not so good, perhaps, but that it might not be a great deal better. In the few rehearsals he had already attended he had noted some glaring conventions and very grave stupidities, which he vowed in the future he would eradicate. The position of producer—a calling of which hitherto he had hardly been aware—suggested, of a sudden, illimitable possibilities. The producer was the man with the palette and brushes, and the artistes were merely tubes of colour, to be applied how and where they would give the best result. There was no end to what a producer might achieve, and perhaps no better medium for conveying ideas to the public mind than through the stage. And just as Wynne had said, nearly two years before, “I must learn this trade of painting,” he now determined to master the art of acting in all its variations. “But I must write, too,” he thought, “and read and work all the time.” He passed a hand across his forehead and exhaled noisily. Great are the responsibilities which a man will take upon his shoulders! III At the outset of his career as an actor Wynne found much to disappoint him. He learnt that brains and application do not necessarily result in stage success. Among all the actors he met it was all too often the case that the most intelligent were the least successful. Personality and notoriety outweighed intellect. Even the most egregious ass, provided he was representative of a certain type, prospered exceedingly, while the really clever ones languished in the understudy room or formed unspeaking props to hang clothes upon. A man needs to be on the stage some while before he can appreciate that casting and the box office are the chief considerations in a producer’s mind. It is easier and more satisfactory to engage a fool to play a fool than to ask a wise man to turn his wisdom to folly. Also it is a shrewd business stroke to give the public some very rapturous feminine vision to behold rather than give the part to some lady whose brain has a greater claim to admiration than her features. The world forgives stupidity when offset by loveliness—or even by a hint of subtle scandal—but a very high standard of intellectual perfection is required before the world will ignore a youth which has passed. Taking these matters into consideration, Wynne was constrained to believe that if theatre-goers were blind, and men gave up talking of matters which concerned them not, there would be an immediate demand for a class of actors, and particularly actresses, of a far higher mental quality than heretofore.