"How easy it is, really," said Norah, when she and Lily were going down-stairs again, past the line of tired women still waiting to be admitted. "Though I thought his language was rather disgusting. Didn't you?" "I didn't notice it," said Lily. "But you'll have to get used to bad language on the stage." "I shall never get used to it," Norah vowed, with a disdainful glance at a particularly common-looking girl who, tossing the feathers in her hat like a defiant savage, called out: "God! Flo, look at Mrs. Walter Keal coming down-stairs." The girls round her laughed, and Norah hurried past angrily. She had been intending to patronize Lily; after that remark it was not so easy. Just as they reached the foot of the first flight of steps the dirty-faced janitor bawled over the balustrade, "Mr. Keal can't see any more ladies to-day." Sighs of disappointment and murmurs of indignation rose from the actresses; then they turned wearily round and prepared to encounter the December rain. "You'd better come and call for me to-morrow," said Norah, "so that we can go to the rehearsal together. Think of me to-night when I'm trying to explain to father what I've done." "Will he be very angry?" "Yes, I expect he will, and though I know how to manage him it's always a nuisance having to argue," said Norah. "You're lucky not to have a father." Lily looked at her friend quickly and suspiciously. "I mean you're lucky to be quite on your own," she explained. The moment Mr. Caffyn came home from the city that evening Norah revealed to him that she had got an engagement in a touring company and reminded him of his promise. As she had expected, he tried to go back on his word, and even brought up the old objection to a daughter of his going on the stage. "Nobody will know that I'm your daughter," she said. "I shall change my name, of course." "But people are sure to hear about it," Mr. Caffyn argued. Norah pulled him up suddenly. "It's no good going on about it, father. I've got an engagement and I'm going to accept it. If you try to prevent me I shall do something much worse." Mr. Caffyn's dislike of the stage may not have been as deep as he pretended, or he may have thought that his daughter really intended to do something desperate and that he might be called upon to support her in married life, which would be more expensive than supporting her on the stage. Moreover, she seemed so confident that perhaps he might never have to support her on the stage, and what a delightful solution of her future that would be! After all, she was the eldest of six girls, and six girls rapidly growing up might become too much even for the secretary of the Church of England Purity Society to control successfully. Mrs. Caffyn melted into tears at the idea of her eldest daughter's earning her own living, and Norah decided to profit by maternal weakness. "The only thing, mother dear, is that I shall be very poor." "Darling child!"