"Well, now, that you'd have to settle with them," smiled Mr. Artheris.
"Oh, rot!" said Connie cheerfully. "You manage that for her; what does she know? Go on!"
"But, my dear young lady, I have nothing to do with it!" the man protested. "They come to me and wish to hire my theatre, lights, ushers, orchestra, and so, and they ask me if I know of a young actress who will take a part—to give them all confidence, you see"—he made encouraging gestures with his fat little hands—"to—to carry the performance, as it were!"
"What part?" asked Connie shrewdly.
"The part of—of—a splendid part, that of the Sergeant," said Artheris cheerfully.
"Yes, I know that part," Connie said grimly.
"The idea is to have Miss Julie here understudy all the parts," said the manager quickly. "These amateurs are very apt to disappoint, do you see? They feel that there would be a sense of security in having a professional right there to fill in a gap."
"Why, that would mean she'd have to learn practically the whole play," said Connie. "They ought to be willing to pay a good price for that. Of course Miss Page is only seventeen," she continued, a calculating eye on Julia, whose appearance did not belie the statement.
"No objection at all—they are all very young! Come now, what do you say, Miss Page?"
"Oh, I don't know," said Julia discontentedly. "I'm not so crazy about acting," she went on childishly. "I'm not so sure I want all these swells to stand around and impose on me—" She hesitated, uncertain and vague. "And I don't believe Mama'd be so anxious," she submitted lamely.