"Well! I wish you all success," she said, "but I'm afraid you've upset my father dreadfully, and the doctor says excitement is the very worst thing for him and may lead to another stroke. You must on no account come here again, until I give you leave." "But I may see you elsewhere?" "If you're a wise man, you'll do one thing at a time. You'll discover the secret of the Sorcery Company first, and then--" "When I have discovered it?" "My father may forgive you. Have I told you I'm going on the stage? I know Bromley Burnham, and he's offered me a part at the Imperial. It is imperative now, that I should do something to help my father." "If you become an actress," Shiel said bitterly, "my chances of marrying you will indeed be small." "Not smaller than they are now," Gladys observed. "_Au revoir._" And with one of those tantalising and perplexing smiles, with which some women, consciously or unconsciously, counteract--and sometimes, perhaps, for reasons best known to themselves--completely nullify the needless severity of their speech, shook hands with Shiel, and left him. CHAPTER XVIII STAGE THREE The weeks sped by. Gladys Martin went on the Stage, and thanks to beauty and influence, rather than to talent--though in the latter respect she was certainly not wanting--she became an immediate success. Her photos, some taken alone, and some with Bromley Burnham, occupied a conspicuous place in all the weekly illustrateds, and in innumerable shop windows. People talked of her as they do of all actresses. Some said her father was a broken-down peer; some, a needy parson, and some, a policeman! Some said the Duke of Warminster was madly in love with her; others that Seaton Smyth, the notorious Cabinet Minister, was pining for a divorce on her behalf, and others, that she was seldom seen off the stage--she was entertaining the King of the Belgians. "I've met her," Lilian Rosenberg said to Shiel, as they stopped one evening to gaze at Gladys's portraits outside the Imperial Theatre. "She came to our place to have a dream interpreted, and I thought nothing of her. I don't admire her the least bit in the world, do you?" "I do," Shiel replied, rather sharply. "Why, you sound quite angry," Lilian Rosenberg laughed. "One would think you knew her. I wonder if Bromley Burnham is very much in love with her! He looks as if he were in these photographs! Do you think it possible for a man and woman to make love to each other every night on the stage, like they do, without one or other of them being affected?" "I really couldn't say," Shiel replied. "I'm no authority on such matters--they don't interest me in the least."