"You mean it?" "Certainly." "But your parents?" "They'd howl--and give in. They always do." "H'm--well, we'll see." * * * * * The great night came. Needless to say that the Shaw playlet and the brilliant Cartel were the events of the occasion. Isabelle was by no means obliterated in his shadow. She made a very considerable impression. There was a sort of fire about her. Her lines were read, not recited; and Shaw is the acid test for the amateur. The performance received an ovation. "You were quite interesting," Cartel said, sparingly--inspecting her with half-closed, speculative eyes. "Do I get my job?" she inquired. Later, he spoke to her parents about her talent. "For goodness' sake, don't tell her," urged her mother. "You wouldn't let me take her for a season?" he inquired. "I should say not!" replied Mrs. Bryce, with emphasis. The fuss that was made over the girl was enough to turn her head completely. "We've got to take her away, that's all," said Wally, a day or two later. "Where?" inquired Max, irritated to brevity. "I don't know. She gets into trouble wherever she goes. We might open The Beeches." "Well, we won't." In the meantime Isabelle asked Cartel daily about a job in his company. "Nothing doing without your parents' consent." "If I make them consent, do I get it?" "Possibly; but they won't," he teased her. "You don't know me," she warned him. The end of August came, and with it the great man's departure, for rehearsals in town. Isabelle was desolated. Her god, her idol, was leaving her behind, and only because of those eternal drawbacks--her parents. She said her farewell to him demurely, and echoed his hope that they would meet soon in town. "You've made my summer for me, little witch," he said, in an aside. [Illustration: _"You've made my summer for me, little witch," Cartel said_] He left. There passed three days of utter misery and boredom. Wally went to New York on business, and refused to take her along; Max was cross; the devil of revolt entered Isabelle. She wired Cartel: Terrible row. Disinherited by parents. Will apply at theatre to-morrow, at ten, for promised job. ISABELLE. She sneaked two dress-suit cases on to the hotel baggage 'bus, and she took a morning train to New York. Arrived there she wired Max: Am going on stage. Useless to try to stop me. Am determined on a career. ISABELLE. Max received this message at tea time, as she sat with a group of merry idlers on the piazza. She read it--frowned. With an exclamation of annoyance she summoned a boy, and wrote as follows to Wally: Isabelle has joined Cartel. Catch her and bring her back. MAX. "Is anything wrong, dear Max?" inquired her best beau, noting her expression.