“Oh no—most inaccessible.” “Does that mean he wouldn’t learn from you?” she inquired, very frankly. K. G. looked down in mild surprise. Young ladies who are “walking-on” should agree with and not interrogate those lofty beings whose salaries are paid by cheque. But this young lady ignored the principle, and seemed to expect an answer. “Yes,” he replied, very frankly. “Of course it’s his own affair if he cares to ignore the advice of—well—” Modesty forbade the mention of his own name, and he finished the sentence by a gesture. “Of course it is,” said Eve. K. G. frowned. The conversation was not proceeding on orthodox lines. “Still, as I say, young men of that sort do not get on.” “I can’t see why. Perhaps he thought you could teach him nothing.” It was the protective mother instinct compelled the words. The remark annoyed K. G. excessively. It was not, however, his habit to vent irritation upon a woman, even though she might be its original cause, consequently he attacked Wynne Rendall. “He is a fellow who wants a good kicking, and has never had it.” “A man always wants to kick what he cannot understand,” said Eve. To defend some one who is absent from the attacks of a third person is a sure basis upon which friendships are established. When Eve returned to her little bed-sitting-room after the rehearsal, Wynne Rendall occupied a large share of her thoughts. “I like him,” she said to herself. “He’s all wrong in all sorts of ways, but there’s something tremendous about him in spite of that—and I like him.” She fell to wondering how he had arrived at what he was, what queer turns of circumstance or inclination had aged the youth from him. With quickening sympathy she recalled his sunken cheeks, the nervous sensitive movements of his hands and head. “Looks as if he never had enough to eat. I’m sure he doesn’t eat enough.” Then she laughed, for in her own existence eating did not enter very largely. A salary of one pound one shilling per week does not admit of extravagant _menus_. A woman can keep the roses of her cheeks flowering upon very little. With a man it is different. A man, to be a man, must set his teeth in solid victuals, or nature denied will deny. She thought over her exchange with the leading man, and was glad she had stood up for Wynne. It offended her that a fat, luxurious fellow should say what he chose, and imagine himself immune from counter-attack on account of his position in the company. She would not have been at ease with her conscience if she had acted otherwise. In the circumstances Eve did not prosper well with her reading that night. “Heroes and Hero Worship” was cast aside to make room for other considerations. At the rehearsal next day it was with almost a proprietary interest she responded to Wynne’s flickering greeting. “You are making a reputation,” he said, and added, “by the easiest way.” “What way is that?” “Being frank with your superiors.” “Is it easy?”