"I'm just going to tell them what I think!" exclaimed Alice, and there was a hint of real anger in her voice. But she had no chance, for Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon, as though satisfied with what they had done, swept out to the elevator.
"Don't mind them, my dears," said motherly Mrs. Maguire. "It's only professional jealousy, anyhow; and you'll see plenty of that if you stay in this business long enough."
"Then I'm not going to stay!" cried Alice. "I'm not used to having such things said of me."
Mrs. Maguire laughed genially. She was standing with Ruth and Alice, who were waiting for their father to join them. Most of the other performers had now gone.
"Oh, you'll get so you won't mind that a bit!" went on Mrs. Maguire. "Sure, I used to eat my heart over it in my younger days, but now I only laugh. It's part of the business. It's a tribute to your acting, my dear, and you ought to take it as such. Don't mind it."
"Oh, but it was so—so uncalled—for!" murmured Ruth. "I think I must—"
"Hush! Here comes daddy!" interrupted Alice. "Don't let him know about it."
"That's wise," commented Mrs. Maguire. "Though probably he's seen enough of it in his time. But perhaps he wouldn't like to know that it bothered you. Best say nothing to him, my dears. It will wear away soon enough."
"No, we won't say anything," agreed Alice, slipping her arm through her sister's. "Papa has enough trouble as it is."
A little later, as the girls were walking along with Mr. DeVere, he asked them: