"Yes," Nan replied.
"Come along then. I expect he's been waiting for me for half an hour now—and believe me, he's just as kind and considerate as a wild bull when we keep him waiting. I overslept this morning."
It was then after ten o'clock, and Nan wondered how one could "oversleep" so late.
"I'm only glad Madam isn't going to be here this morning. By the way," the girl added, curiously, "who's your letter from? You and your friend trying to break into the movies?"
"My goodness, no!" gasped Nan. "I have no desire to act—and I'm sure I have no ability."
"It might be fun," Bess said doubtfully. "But do you all have to paint up so awfully?"
"Yes. That's so we will look right on the screen. Here! that's Gray—the bald-headed man in the brown suit. I hope you have better luck than two girls from the country who were in here for a couple of days. Gray bounced them yesterday. Who's your letter from?" added the girl, evidently disbelieving what both Nan and Bess had said when they denied haying any desire to pose for the screen.
"Madam, herself," said Nan, demurely. "Do you think Mr. Gray will give me a hearing?"
"Well, I guess yes," cried the girl in costume. "Oh, do give it to him just as he starts in laying me out, will you?"
"Anything to oblige," Nan said, smiling. "Can we go right over and speak to him?"