To Mona, reared beyond the world of wealth and social custom, the great city she was now in seemed a monster hive. An endless tangle of crowded streets, of pushing humanity, and towering buildings. The ceaseless din of street cars and rumbling teams, the people who elbowed her aside as they hurried on, the vehicles that halted not when she crosses a street, the grand ladies alighting from their carriages and sweeping by her as if she was without right; and worse than all these, the apes who ogled at her on the street, and even followed her to her home,--each and all became a teacher that taught her self-reliance. She grew to look at the great city as it did at her, without feeling and without interest. They cared not for her right, or her life even; why should she for them? It was the best education possible, and imparted a certain indifference toward everybody and everything, and hardened her, in a way. Then Fritz, with his little scheme, entered into her education, and one day, after he had asked her to play some of her best selections, a stranger stepped out from an inner room to be introduced to her as the manager of the Alhambra Theatre. "My friend Geisling has told me about you, Miss Hutton," he said, "and I wished to hear you play as you naturally would, so I asked to be kept in hiding to hear you. You have a decided talent, and if you have the courage, I think you could do a musical turn and do it well. If you will come to the Alhambra to-morrow at ten with my friend here, we will give you a rehearsal." And Mona felt as if she were at that moment facing an audience! "I have an ambition to play well, and some day in public," she said faintly, and hardly realizing how it all came about, "but not yet. Oh, no, I wouldn't dare," and she looked helplessly at her teacher. "Ah, Mees Hutton, but you vill," he said excitedly, "und your fader said you vill, und dat eet vas to be you broveshion, und you vill to blease me try, I dinks," and he placed one hand upon his heart and bowed low. "Oh, not yet, no! no!" exclaimed Mona, her heart sinking, as she stood face to face with her longed-for opportunity. "I am not ready yet and haven't the courage." "That is but a mere trifle, Miss Hutton," answered the manager, looking at her saintlike eyes, her sweet face, rounded shoulders, and swelling bosom; and calculating their commercial value for stage purposes to a nicety. "A mere trifle; you have the face and form, you play with exceeding grace and delicate expression, no doubt due to your native talent, and are sure to please. All you need is to forget that you are playing to an audience, and you will win a storm of hands." Then, like a shrewd man of business, he began politely to question her. Where she came from, who taught her first, and how she came to wish to play in public? In ten minutes he had grasped her entire history.