"Well, get up," ordered Jenkins, testily. "You enter R., upper door. Come front and answer Horton, who stands L. C. Then you exit L., up stage." They all looked at her now. She felt their impatience, their supercilious smiles. She knew she was that leper in the theatre--an amateur. She did not know what Jenkins was talking about with his down R's, and his up L's. He entered as Mary and showed her the business. She caught the idea at once, and he grunted something which might have been approval or a curse. The rest of the time she spent in fevered attention to the script, looking for the signal, "Mary," but it came no more in that act. They went all over it again, and she managed it without a hitch. Then they were dismissed until two o'clock, and every one hurried off for lunch. Isabelle waited, thinking that of course Cartel would ask her to lunch with him. But there were no signs of him. She inquired where his office was, and ascended the stairs with the intention of expressing her dissatisfaction with her part. She stopped outside the door at the sound of voices--Cartel's and Wally's. She went in. "Well!" exploded her father, "so there you are!" "Good morning, Wally. Max wired you?" "She did. You will come home with me at once." "There is no need of our boring Mr. Cartel with our family rows," she said, sweetly. "I have no intention of going anywhere with you. I've decided upon a stage career, and I'm rehearsing with Mr. Cartel now." The manager stifled a smile. "You're not of age, young woman, and you can be _made_ to do things!" said Wally. "Take it to law, you mean? Jail and all that? Public announcement that you and Max can't manage me? Stupid, Wally, very stupid." "You're not through with your education. It will be time enough to decide on a career when you finish school." "I have finished school. That I am determined upon. You may as well face it, Wally. I am on the stage, and I intend to stay on it." "Look here, Bryce, take a word of advice from me. I meet this every day. Girls get this germ, and my experience is that it's better to let the disease run its course. If you force her to go back to school, she has a grievance for life. If she goes back of her own accord, she's cured." "It's ridiculous! We'd be the laughing stock of the town!" "Oh, no; it happens in the best families. Believe me, it is not such bad training for young women who have never been disciplined--like your daughter. She'll get it, in this business. She'll learn to obey orders and to respect authority." "But she's struck on herself now, and if she goes on the stage----" "Don't bother; we'll take that out of her," remarked Cartel. Wally looked from Isabelle's set face to the manager's smiling one. "What is your idea?" he asked. "Let her try it. Let her live at home. Send her back and forth in your car; protect her, of course. But let her have her fling; it won't take long," said Cartel, with a wise nod at Wally.