Doubtless if Evarne had been an artistic genius she would have declined to abandon entirely the pursuit of art. As it was, knowing her own incompetence, she at once hopelessly renounced all ideas of art as a profession. What then offered itself? If she had happened to possess a knowledge of shorthand there were many openings, but then she didn't happen to, so that was no use! A smart girl about eighteen was wanted to assist in a grill-room and make herself generally useful. A stifling grill-room! Horrible! Some bakers required a young lady as bookkeeper and to assist in shop. Arithmetic had never been her strong point. A barmaid was wanted. Heaven forbid! Another lady was required to push the boot trade. "Pushing" anything was also not her strong point.
The "C's" were all cashiers and clerks. Arithmetic and shorthand again. Useless! Oh, there was also a demand for cooks. Well, she could boil eggs and potatoes, and make toast, but that was hardly sufficient. Drapery establishments required ladies for various departments. That was decidedly the most promising so far. She would write to some of these. Dressmakers wanted hands, assistants, improvers and apprentices. Oh dear, dear! Several hotels wanted manageresses or housekeepers, and an infirmary required a female lunatic attendant. It was terribly disheartening work. Lady canvassers—that again required the gift of being pushing. Laundry-managers—mantle-machinists—milliners—servants. There ended the choice. Appalling!
However, she proceeded to answer a few of the advertisements, when the idea came to consult Mrs. Burling. The landlady was a practical working-woman, and therefore perhaps the very best possible adviser.
So Evarne to a certain extent became confidential. What did Mrs. Burling think was the easiest way of earning a livelihood for a girl who had not been taught any profession, and who, owing to deaths and unexpected losses, found herself obliged to earn money right away?
Without a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Burling suggested the stage. This was not unnatural, considering that the worthy matron spent her days waiting hand and foot upon plain, commonplace women and inane men, who, by that means, contrived to lead leisured lives. That was the one and only trade, business or profession she knew of that seemed to call for neither brains, industry, previous preparation, nor—in her opinion—any particular talent or qualification whatsoever.
"I do assure you, miss," she went on, "I've 'ad ladies and gents 'ere earning good money, who would 'ave been in the work'ouse if they wasn't in the profession."
Evarne considered. She was blankly ignorant of everything connected with life behind the scenes. True, she had met several so-called "actresses" in the society of Morris's friends, but these ladies never seemed to be acting, so she could not consider that they represented the genuine article. She had a vague idea—gleaned from she scarce knew where—that the men of the dramatic world were all vulgar and vain and familiar and inclined to drink, unless, on the other hand, they were popular, fascinating and romantic; while the women were jealous, rather rowdy, and overdressed, until those upper ranks were reached wherein they figured on picture postcards, when they were models of every public and domestic virtue. Still, to the girl's imagination, a stage life certainly seemed far more bearable than the vision of herself measuring out lace and ribbon from morn to eve; or serving round grilled chops; or fighting with lunatics.
"I really think I shall try that," she announced at length; "but I'm dreadfully ignorant about how to get a post. Does one go to the theatres, or write to the leading actors, or the managers, or what?"
"There's all sorts of ways," declared Mrs. Burling. "For one thing, you must 'ave a good photo of yourself to send round. What 'ave you got?"
Evarne confessed that she had nothing.