"Of course she is," added Mr. Wattles, suddenly appearing upon the scene. "Bow, my boy, bow! And couldn't you make a little impromptu speech?"
"Not much!" replied Al, very emphatically. "I tell you, Mr. Wattles, if I had had any idea that the duties of a press agent included so many public appearances, I should not have gone into the business."
He bowed; then some one—probably under the manager's direction—called out:
"Speech! speech!"
But Al shook his head so emphatically that the audience saw he meant his refusal, and the applause soon subsided.
A few moments later the curtain rose.
There was very little applause until Miss March made her entrance; her appearance was the signal for another demonstration of enthusiasm. Probably seven-eighths of the audience did not know why they were applauding, but the other eighth did, and its enthusiasm was, as a matter of course, contagious. The applause was literally deafening. In its midst Mr. Merry hurled his bouquet upon the stage. It fell at the feet of the young actress, who picked it up, smiling and blushing, to the evident delight of the elderly "masher."
Mrs. Allston shuddered.
"This life of feverish excitement will kill my child," she said. "She must abandon it."
"Wait till you see her play, mother," said Al.