The final lines of the comedy were, of course, to be delivered by the star; but when the cue was given to her Miss Fostelle simply said "Tag!" everybody being aware that it is very unlucky to speak the last speech of a play at a rehearsal--as unlucky as it is to put up an umbrella on the stage, or to quote from "Macbeth." "That will do," said the stage-manager; "I think it will be all right to-morrow night." And with that the rehearsal concluded and the company began to disperse. "I hope it is all right," Harry Brackett remarked to Carpenter, "and I think it is. But I shall have a great deal more confidence after the man in the box-office shakes hands with me cordially, say, next Wednesday or Thursday, and inquires about my health. He'll know by that time whether we've got a good thing or not!" Carpenter helped Miss Marvin to put on her light cape. Then, after her mother had joined them, they said good-night to the others and left the theatre together. When they came out into the warm night the street was quieter than it had been when Carpenter entered the theatre. There were fewer cable-cars passing the door, and the trains on the elevated road in the avenue were now infrequent. The lights had been turned out in front of the variety show across the way, and evidently the grand sacred concert was over. The moon had sunk, and before they had gone a block the bell of the church tolled the hour of midnight. The young man who was walking by the side of Mrs. Loraine broke the silence at last. "Well," he asked, "what do you think of the play now?" "I think it is a good piece of its kind," the elder actress answered--"a very good piece of its kind; and it is well staged; and it will be well acted, too. Sherrington knows how to get his best work out of everybody. Yes, it will be a success." "Is it good for three months here now?" the young author asked, "and for the rest of the season on the road?" "Oh yes, indeed," replied Mrs. Loraine; "yes, indeed. It's safe for a hundred nights here at least!" They paused at the corner to wait for a cable-car, and Sherrington joined them. This gave Carpenter a chance to lead the daughter away from the mother half a dozen steps. "I'm so glad mother thinks the play will go," the girl began. "And mother is a very good judge, too. You ought to make a lot out of it." The young dramatist felt that he had his chance at last. "I've wanted to make money mainly for one reason," he returned; "I wanted to ask you to take half of it." "Half of it?" she echoed, as though she did not understand. "Oh, well--all of it," he responded, swiftly; "and me with it." "Mr. Carpenter!" she cried, and her blushes made her look even lovelier than before. "Won't you marry me?" he asked, ardently. "Oh, I suppose I've got to say yes," she answered, "or else you'll go down on your knees here in the street!" (1895.) A CANDLE IN THE PLATE