The ladies had placed the matter in Mr. Walberg’s hands, and he had at once thought of Sybil Saunders for Viola. She had played the part through the provinces, made a hit and was in his opinion the ideal person. There was a persuasive, almost coaxing quality in his manner, not his usual manner with rising young actresses. But, as has been said, he was a kindly man, and had heard that Sybil Saunders was knocked out, couldn’t get the heart to work; also, as she was a young person of irreproachable character, he inferred she must be hard up. That brought him to compensation--not so munificent, but then Miss Saunders was not yet in the star class--and all expenses would be covered, including a week at Gull Island. This opportunity to dwell in the seats of the mighty, free of cost, with sea air and scenery thrown in, Mr. Walberg held before her as the final temptation. He had no need for further persuasion for Miss Saunders accepted at once. She was grateful to him and said so and looked as if she meant it. He felt the elation of a good work done for the charitable ladies--they could get no one as capable as Sybil Saunders for the price--and for the girl herself whose best hope was to get back into harness. So, in a glow of mutual satisfaction, they walked to the door, Mr. Walberg telling over such members of the cast as had already been engaged: Sylvanus Grey for the Duke, Isabel Cornell for Maria, John Gordon Trevor for Sir Toby--no one could beat him, had the old English tradition--and Anne Tracy for Olivia. At that name Miss Saunders had exclaimed in evident pleasure. Anne Tracy would be perfect, and it would be so lovely having her, they were such friends. Mr. Walberg nodded urbanely as if encouraging the friendships of young actresses was his dearest wish, and at the door put the coping stone on these agreeable announcements: “And I’m going to give you my best director, Hugh Bassett. If with you and him they don’t pull off a success the Maine public’s dumber than I thought.” Later in the day he saw his director and told him of Miss Saunders’ engagement. “Poor little thing,” he said. “She looks like one of those vegetables they grow in the dark to keep ’em white. But it’ll be the saving of her. Now you go ahead and get this started--three weeks rehearsal here and one up there ought to do you. And keep me informed--if any of these swell dames turn up asking questions, I want to know where I’m at.”