The manager, who seemed to be a very busy man, noted down Ben’s name and hurried to another part of the stage.
“Well, Ben, it is all settled,” said the dramatic author. “I want you to do yourself credit, and help on the success of my piece. You have no engagement for the rest of the day and evening, have you?”
“No, sir.”
“Then come home and take supper with me. This evening I will train you in your part.”
“I shall be glad to have you do so.”
“I live on Lexington Avenue near Thirtieth Street. We are a quiet family. My mother and I make the whole of it.”
Ben submitted himself to the guidance of his companion, and taking a Third Avenue horse-car soon arrived at Thirtieth Street, where they struck off for Lexington Avenue. The house was a plain one, three stories in height, but looked home-like and comfortable.
“I’ll take you up to my den, where I do my work,” said Mr. Wilkins. “It is my chamber as well and you will find arrangements for washing. Then I will go down and let my mother know that I have invited a young actor to supper.”
Ben laughed. It seemed a good joke to him to be referred to as a young actor.
In fifteen minutes Mr. Wilkins returned. He found that Ben had availed himself of the interval to make his toilet.