"Why, yes; I suppose so."
"We're poor—poorer than we've ever been. Jim will have to work, and so will you."
"I'll do what I can, of course; but—I don't know how to do anything.
I'm afraid I won't be much help at first."
"We'll see to that. Now, run along, dearie."
When she had gone Peter gave a grunt of conviction.
"She IS pretty," he acknowledged; "pretty as a picture, and you certainly dress her well. She'd ought to make a good actress."
Jim echoed him enthusiastically. "Pretty? I'll bet Bernhardt's got nothing on her for looks. She'll have a brownstone hut on Fifth Avenue and an air-tight limousine one of these days, see if she don't."
"When do you plan to leave?" faltered the father.
Mrs. Knight answered with some satisfaction: "Rehearsals commence in
May."