"Does it?" said Miss Luscombe, rather disappointed.
"Well, where's the harm in being here? Ain't we here?"
"Oh yes, of course; but that's different. They're cousins, too, of course; I had forgotten."
"I don't see why you should worry if Romer doesn't," said Rathbone.
Before they left Rathbone had very nearly promised to see about engaging a theatre, and either for a charity or as an invitation matinée, rope, as he expressed it, all his friends in, lock the door, and force them to see him play Romeo to Miss Luscombe's Juliet.
Flora was deliriously happy at the idea, but had too much experience to rely on it, and was quite prepared to be thrown over for another more professional actress, and asked to play one of the ladies at the ball in the first act instead, probably in a mask. She went home and read over her one good notice—a great treasure—that had appeared in an evening paper, and had spoken of her as "a young actress with a bright and winsome personality." That was in a very small part, ten years ago. Would she ever get another real chance?