"Not at all!" protested Colette. "My trend at present may appear to be charitable, but Amarilly and I have a common interest—a fellow feeling—that makes me wondrous kind. We both have longings to appear in public on the stage."
At this sudden challenge, this second lowering of the red flag, John's face grew stern.
"Amarilly," continued the liquid voice,—"has had more experience in stage life than I have had. She has commenced at the lowest round of the dramatic ladder of fame. She scrubs at the Barlow Theatre, and she is quite familiar with stage lore. Her hero is the man who plays the role of Lord Algernon in A Terrible Trial."
He made no reply, and Colette presently broke the silence.
"Seriously, John," she said practically and in a tone far different from her former one, "the Jenkins family are poor and most deserving. I am going to give them some work, and if you would give them a trial on the church linen, it would help them so much. There was a regular army of little children on the doorstep, and it must be a struggle to feed them all. I should like to help them—to give them something—but they seem to be the kind of people that you can help only by giving them work to perform. I have learned that true independence is found only among the poor."
John took a little notebook from his pocket.
"What is their address, Colette?"
She took the book from him and wrote down the street and number.
"Colette, you endeavor to conceal a tender heart—"
"And will you give them—Mrs. Jenkins—a trial?"