Nevertheless there seemed to Evarne a goodly and various demand in the "Wanted" column. There were openings for pretty attractive chorus girls, soubrettes, a good responsible lady, a powerful leading lady, a pathetic old lady, a show lady, an emotional juvenile lady, and a dashing heavy lady; and if one couldn't place one's self under any of these descriptions, then one could modestly seek to be a "chambermaid." Also there were sweeping invitations for whole companies to "write in." Accordingly Evarne "wrote in"—spent 1s. 3d. on stamps—then waited.
At the end of the week she was forced to part from her kind friends. She assured them that for their sakes she would henceforward and forever cherish an affectionate regard for the whole of the theatrical fraternity. Faithful promises of correspondence were exchanged, and then the girl found herself thrown upon her own society.
Mrs. Burling had already let her sitting-room for the coming week, but the two men who now occupied it—low comedians—appeared to fastidious Evarne as very low specimens of humanity likewise. So, when one of them—encountering her on the front doorstep—showed a tendency to be affable, she received the poor fellow's effort most coolly.
However, her time was now fully occupied. She marketed daily, haunted the theatrical agents, read poetry aloud in her best dramatic style in the privacy of her room, and occasionally expended a shilling on the gallery of some theatre to study acting and find out how it was done.
By the time the next theatrical paper appeared, she was the owner of fifty small replicas of the most attractive of her new photographs, and she desperately set to work to answer almost every advertisement—likely and unlikely. Alack and alas, not a single response crowned her efforts!
Then she nearly sank into utter despondency. Whatever was to be done? No work forthcoming, and her little hoard of money melting away like snow in a thaw. Why, it was enough to test the fortitude of the bravest! She was almost in despair by the time she had been in London two weeks, and was still as far from being a wage-earner as when she first arrived.
So the reaction was correspondingly great, when a day or two later she beheld a letter for herself with a Scotch postmark and addressed in a strange handwriting. Mrs. Burling—sympathetically excited—had hurried upstairs with the precious missive and proceeded to wipe some imaginary dust from a vase, while her young lodger tore open the envelope.
The notepaper was headed "Caledonia's Bard Co.," and beneath this was printed a few puffs of the aforesaid concern, which—if one went by its own account—carried a full cast of the most talented artistes, rich and handsome costumes, realistic scenery, etc.
The written address given was Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow, and the letter stated that the manager of "Caledonia's Bard" offered "the small yet effective part" of "Bess" in that production to Miss Stornway, at the remuneration of twenty-one shillings weekly. Miss Stornway was to provide her own costumes, which, however, were of the simplest description, and should she be still at liberty to accept the offer, a gentleman would call upon her to deliver into her hands a railway ticket to Glasgow. The communication was signed "P. Punter."
Its recipient beamed.