of the third act the company broke into irresistible and unpremeditated applause.
“Oh, God bless you for that!” said Bambi, her eyes wet with gratitude.
“We ought to cast you for the girl. You are enough like her to have sat for the portrait,” said Mr. Frohman, wickedly.
Jarvis turned to look at Bambi in his earnest way. He marked the likeness, again, himself.
“I shall play it just as you read it, Mrs. Jocelyn,” said the girl who was cast for the lead.
“You will greatly improve on my Francesca, I’m sure,” Bambi nodded to her.
Parts were distributed, much discussion followed as to character drawing and business, then they separated to meet for rehearsal the next day at 10:30. Mr. Frohman had an immediate appointment, so the Jocelyns had no opportunity for a word in private.
“Queer that Mr. Frohman should think that you are like Francesca, too,” said Jarvis, on their way to the club.
“Oh, I don’t know. We are the same type. That’s all.”
“You could play the part wonderfully.”
