And then he was aware of Miss Morrell setting down her cup and saying, briskly: "A little business now, Mr. Manager, if you please! Miss Lawton here is very keen to go upon the stage. She is immensely ambitious, absolutely without experience, but humble in mind enough to be willing to begin at the bottomest bottom. I would gladly give her her start in my company, if I had room for her, and I would not ask you to consider her wish if I did not truly believe she had in her the making of a good actress."
Mr. Thrall turned surprised eyes toward the happily smiling Dorothy. Sybil had gone white when her friend began to speak for her, and sat still and cold, waiting for her doom.
"In heaven's name!" thought he. "What has come to the Morrell—to think that child can act?" Then he glanced at the rigid figure of Sybil, and said, slowly: "And you—have you no desire for the stage life?"
She raised her dark eyes, and said, very low: "I would give my soul to act!"
Miss Morrell's nervous fingers closed sharply. She wished the girl had not said that, and in the same instant Dorothy exclaimed: "Oh, Miss Morrell, Mr. Thrall thought you were speaking of me!"
And actor as he was, the man turned suddenly to his desk to hide the color he knew was burning over his face, and the senseless delight that flashed through him at the words. Presently he asked if her friends permitted her to take this step. Being reassured on that point, he inquired if she had had any experience as an amateur. And when she replied "No!" with a sadly fallen countenance, he smilingly commented: "No tears are called for yet!"
And Miss Morrell broke in with: "And no lessons in elocution has she had—no, not one!"
"Thank God!" fervently exclaimed Thrall. "Decidedly, your case looks hopeful, Miss Lawton."
After some further conversation, finding Sybil would be in town for a day or two, he asked permission to call on her at Mrs. Van Camp's home and let her know what his decision was. As he spoke he caught the swift expression of anxiety on Dorothy's face and followed her glance, and, noting the close attention Sybil was bestowing on a picture, knew she was hiding the tears of disappointment, of fear, and felt a throb of sympathy. Poor little soul! Had he not been just as impatient, just as sensitive—once? So, while Dorothy gathered up the fans and parcels, and Miss Morrell paused to place a candied violet between her lips, Stewart Thrall stepped close to Sybil's side, and said, very low: "Don't be distressed—you shall have the engagement. Only I don't know yet just how or where I can place you!"
And the incredulous joy flashing through the tears, the tremulous smile on her lips, as she turned her face to him, made him exclaim, mentally: "Good God! If she could do but the half of that upon the stage!"