Rehearsals had been backward and unsatisfactory from the start, and the combination would have done much better had it held back for another week for practice before appearing in public. But everyone was anxious to make a hit, and nobody thought failure possible. "We will carry the town by storm," said the leading man, a fellow by the name of Caster. He had been on the boards for several years, but had never before risen to a position higher than that of being a member of a stock company attached to a dime museum. "Yes, we will show them what real acting is," answered Livingston Palmer. "To-morrow the newspapers will be full of complimentary notices." At quarter to eight the orchestra, consisting of a piano player, a violinist, a flutist, and a cornetist, struck up on the overture, and at eight o'clock sharp the curtain went up on the first act of "All for Love." The scene represented Fifth avenue, in New York--at least, so the programme said,--although it is doubtful if anybody living on that fashionable thoroughfare would have recognized the locality. People were coming and going, and doing this as if their lives depended upon it, the same person appearing and disappearing every half minute or so. In the crowd was a girl who was supposed to be a companion to a rich old lady. As she stood waiting for something, the villain of the play, a fashionably-dressed man, came up and tried to tempt her into stealing the rich lady's jewels. While this was going on the butler of the lady's mansion appeared and overheard the plot. The acting was crude from the start, but at the opening of a play few people pay much attention, and it was not until Livingston Palmer appeared as the spying butler that the audience began to grow attentive. "Ha, what is this I hear!" cried Palmer, as he peered forth from behind a dry goods box set up against a building marked Hotel. "She is plotting to rob my mistress. Base woman that she is, I will--will--will----" Palmer should have said, "I will expose her to Mrs. Ulmer and have her arrested," but the words would not come, for he had caught sight of the hundreds of faces in the audience and become stage-frightened in consequence. "I will--will--I will----" he stammered, trying again. "Will you?" came a voice from the gallery. "All right, Willie!" There was a laugh and then a hiss. "I will expose her," whispered the prompter, who stood in the prompter's box with the book of the play in his hand. "I will--will expose her!" burst out Livingston Palmer. "I will expose her, base--I mean--I will expose her to be arrested--to--by--I mean--Mrs. Ulmer shall arrest her!" and then he fell back out of sight, and all but overcome. At once the prompter ran up to him. "You fool!" he whispered wildly. "That wasn't right. You've ruined the scene." "Have I?" asked Palmer, in awe-stricken tones. "Oh, I--I--something slipped my mind. But--but I'll be all right in the next scene."