"And we don't expect you," he ended, "to make up your mind at once. You
must consult your relatives and friends."

"I have no relatives," she answered.

"Your friends then."

"I don't think I have many. Some of the girls in the club perhaps. The
old book-keeper in the store where I work, perhaps Miss Masters."

"And you have me," he interrupted. But she smiled at him and shook her
head. "You were real kind about the play," said she, "but the play's all
over now. I guess you'd better tell your friend that I'll take the
position. I have been getting pretty tired of work in the store and I'd
like to try this if he don't mind."

"Oh, but you mustn't go into it like that," Burgess protested, "just for
the want of something better. Acting is an art--a great art--you must be
glad and proud."

"I'll try it," she said without enthusiasm. "If you feel that way about
it I'll try it. It can't be worse than the store. The store is just
horrible. Oh! Mr. Burgess you can't think what it is to be Ophelia in
the evening with princes loving you and then to be a cashier in the
day-time that any fresh customer thinks he can get gay with. Maybe if I
was an actress I could be Ophelia oftener. I'd do anything, Mr. Burgess,
to get away from the store."

Burgess did not answer immediately. Her earnestness had rather overcome
her and he waited silently while she walked to the window, surreptitiously