A few minutes later Al presented himself at the door of Miss March's room and knocked rather timidly.
"Come in," said a sweet voice, which the boy recognized as that of the young actress.
He entered the room.
Miss March, who was seated by the window, rose to meet him.
"I supposed that it was one of the servants," she said, with a sweet smile, "or I should have welcomed you at the door. Please be seated."
The young girl's perfect self-possession embarrassed Al a little. He stammered out something about its being of no consequence, and seated himself on the extreme edge of the sofa.
Certainly Miss March was a very beautiful girl; unlike many actresses, she looked prettier off the stage than on it.
"I suppose," she began, "that you wonder why I have requested the favor of this interview."
"I am a little curious to know," Al admitted.
"When I have told you, I suppose you will think me a very foolish girl; probably I am. But I cannot leave a stone unturned."