She explained the difficulties. He was only one of so many! Unless the name was known it was frightfully difficult--even for geniuses--to get on. Of course, he might try, and go and see the various managers himself, but, frankly, probably nothing would come of it. He was deeply depressed. What should she suggest? "Might I ask if you care very, very much?" she asked. "You might. I do." Yes. His heart was set on it. Was it really? Well, if he simply hadn't the strength to go on living another day without going on the stage, the only thing, clearly, was just to hire a theatre and _go_ on! A _matinee_, perhaps. Why not Romeo? "And why not Juliet?" said he, rather rashly. "Oh, that would be lovely!" Her attention wandered at this moment. A very pretty, fair woman was rising from behind a palm where she had been seated with her back to the room. She went out rather quickly, followed by a good-looking young man with a single eye-glass. "They have been trying to hide!" she exclaimed. "What a joke! It's that sweet Valentia Wyburn and Harry de Freyne. They must have been here when we arrived, for we should have seen them come in. I wonder what they came for?" "To have tea, perhaps?" suggested Rathbone, after deep thought, shrewdly. "Yes, yes, I know. But why hide like that?" "Perhaps they didn't want to be seen," said Rathbone brilliantly. "Yes, of course, but why not? I hope it doesn't show...." "Well, it shows there's nothing in it, or they wouldn't come here." "Does it?" said Miss Luscombe, rather disappointed. "Well, where's the harm in being here? Ain't we here?" "Oh yes, of course; but that's different. They're cousins, too, of course; I had forgotten." "I don't see why you should worry if Romer doesn't," said Rathbone. Before they left Rathbone had very nearly promised to see about engaging a theatre, and either for a charity or as an invitation _matinee_, rope, as he expressed it, all his friends in, lock the door, and force them to see him play Romeo to Miss Luscombe's Juliet. Flora was deliriously happy at the idea, but had too much experience to rely on it, and was quite prepared to be thrown over for another more professional actress, and asked to play one of the ladies at the ball in the first act instead, probably in a mask. She went home and read over her one good notice--a great treasure--that had appeared in an evening paper, and had spoken of her as "_a young actress with a bright and winsome personality_." That was in a very small part, ten years ago. Would she ever get another real chance? CHAPTER XIX AT MISS WESTBURY'S