were busy with that letter to which she had replied this afternoon. Mr. Peel looked at her savagely, and she met his silent rebuke with an air of indifference. After that the manager appeared to pay peculiar attention to her as often as they were together before the footlights. It was not the first time that Mr. Peel had allowed her to see that she was an object of interest to him.
There was an after-piece, but Clara was not engaged in it. When, at the fall of the curtain on the melodrama, she went to the shabby dressing-room which she shared with two companions, a message delivered by the call-boy bade her repair as soon as possible to the manager’s office. What might this mean? She was startled on the instant, but speedily recovered her self-control; most likely she was to receive a rating,—let it come! Without unusual hurry, she washed, changed her dress, and obeyed the summons.
Mr. Peel was still a young man, of tall and robust stature, sanguine, with much sham refinement in his manner; he prided himself on
