“It’s better than the one she’s given you,” he said graciously, “which ain’t sayin’ much. Sit down, Miss Denbigh. I guess you’ve come out here same as I have. I’m trying to see Mrs. Carter--Miss Fanchon la Fare, I guess it is now. This party”--he waved his thumb over his shoulder--“Mrs. Quantah, she says Mrs. Carter’s sick.” “So I hear.” Virginia turned her eyes discreetly away. She could not look at Mr. Bernstein without thinking of his effort to engage her grandfather, and she wanted to laugh in spite of her errand. “I’m very sorry; I hope she’ll see me.” “I hope so.” Mr. Bernstein leaned forward confidentially. “Say, I’ll tell you what I’ve done. You see, I felt kinder guilty. You know about that Carter boy? Well, I came out here on purpose to make good. I’m offering Miss Fanchon one thousand dollars a week for one big seven-reel feature for the Unlimited Film Company, and, after that, say, five hundred a week steady as ingenoo in the company.” Virginia lifted her eyes with difficulty to the kindly red face opposite. “That seems magnificent, Mr. Bernstein,” she said softly, and then in spite of herself she giggled. Mr. Bernstein beamed. “It’s a good offer, if I do say it! But, see here, Miss Denbigh, it ain’t often we get a subject like that. She’s just ideal for dances--see? Now, there’s another thing--coming out here, I made a find!” Mr. Bernstein raised one fat hand and spoke behind it, watching the door. “Notice that party--Mrs. Quantah?” Virginia nodded, her eyes dancing. Mr. Bernstein edged his chair closer. “Say! We’re going to do some Dickens pictures. No copyright on Dickens, you know, an’ it’s easy to get ’em. We’re going to do ‘Nicholas Nickleby.’ Now I ask you, did you ever see a better _Miss Squeers_? Look at her--take her all around--them angles an’ that mouth! Say, I’d give her something neat, believe me I would. I said so to her, an’ what d’you suppose she said to me? That woman, poor as Job’s turkey--what d’you suppose she said?” Virginia was unable to imagine it and said so--with some difficulty, her lips tremulous. “I asked her.” Mr. Bernstein leaned back in his chair and shook his head sadly. “I told her what I wanted an’ what I’d pay, an’ she said, ‘Nothing doin’!’ Now, what d’you know about that?” He was about to say more, to enlarge on his grievance and on Mrs. Quantah’s resemblance to _Miss Squeers_, but there was a sharp sound. A door opened and shut, and the ideal _Miss Squeers_ entered. She did not look at Mr. Bernstein, but turned a stony gaze upon Virginia’s flushed and smiling face. “She’ll see you,” she said laconically. Mr. Bernstein leaned farther back in his chair with the air of a martyr determined to await his turn, if it took all night. Virginia rose hastily and followed Mrs. Quantah.