“Yes, I think so. There’s little Ivy Grant--she’s coming on very well indeed, devilish pretty girl into the bargain. Then there’s Miss Myra Kay, a brunette, rather prudish, used to be in Macneillie’s company, but lost her health, and is now only just starting afresh. As for the men--well, you’ll see for yourself by-and-by--half of them in my opinion are sticks, and the other half roaring ranters. Hulloa, you’ll find that a bad speculation. Never order coffee in Great Britain, for they don’t know how to make it. Take to whisky, my boy. It’s the only thing for strolling players.” “Thanks, I detest it,” said Ralph, “and if professional landladies don’t understand coffee-making, why I’ll brew it myself as we used to do at Winchester.” “I thought you had been at a public school. What made you take up with the stage? Didn’t your people object?” “I am alone in the world,” said Ralph. “My guardian wanted me to be a parson, but I couldn’t go in for that, and so, being turned out of his house, I thought I would try to realise an old dream of mine and be an actor.” Dudley had watched him keenly during this speech. He was a man who had led a notoriously evil life, but he had a good deal of kindliness in his nature, and there was something in Ralph’s transparent honesty, in his evident purity of heart and life that appealed to him. Bad as his own record had been he was wholly without the fiendish desire to drag other men down with him. “Your dreams were probably very unlike the reality.” he said, with a smile. “Are you prepared to rough it?” Ralph laughed, and gave him the account of the straits he had been reduced to, and Dudley having described the merits and drawbacks of a provincial tour under Skoot’s management, suggested that they had better be setting off for the rehearsal. They had scarcely opened the stage door when Mrs. Skoot’s shrill voice made itself heard. She was vehemently complaining about some mistake made by the baggage man, and the poor harassed culprit stood meekly to receive her angry threats of dismissal, not daring to proffer excuse or explanation. Ivy looking scared and cold, stood not far off; her whole face lighted up when she caught sight of Ralph, and she stole over to whisper in his ear, “Isn’t Mrs. Skoot dreadful?” “Suggests the queen in ‘Alice in Wonderland,’” he replied, smiling. “Off with his head!” Ivy was obliged to laugh a little. “That is Miss Myra Kay,” she said, indicating a pale, slim girl, who was pacing to and fro, book in hand. “I think she is very selfish; they say she hardly speaks to any one, but just takes care of herself and is quite wrapped up in her own affairs.” “Take care,” said Ralph, warningly; “you may be overheard.” Dudley now introduced him to one or two of the actors, and before long the manager himself arrived. He seemed in good spirits, greeted Ralph pleasantly, pacified his wife, and promptly set them all to work.