“I am particularly anxious to get a good understudy started in immediately,” the actress continued.  “The one I had was impossible, did not get the spirit of the thing at all.  It is absolutely essential to have some one ready and at once.  My little daughter is in a sanitarium dying with an incurable heart leakage.  There will be a time—­probably within the next two months—­when I shall have to be away.”

Tony put out her hand and let it rest upon the other woman’s.  There was compassion in her young eyes.

“I am so sorry,” she said simply.  “I didn’t know you had a daughter.  Of course, I did know you weren’t really Miss Clay, that you were Mrs. Somebody, but I didn’t think of your having children.  Somehow we don’t remember actresses may be mothers too.”

“The actresses remember it—­sometimes,” said Miss Clay with a tremulous little smile.  “It isn’t easy to laugh when your heart is heavy, Miss Antoinette.  It is all I can do to go on with ‘Madge’ sometimes.  I just have to forget—­make myself forget I am a mother and a wife.  Captain Carey, my husband, is in the British Army.  He is in Flanders now, or was when I last heard.”

“Oh, I don’t see how you can do it—­play, I mean,” sighed Tony aghast at this new picture the actress’s words brought up.

“One learns, my dear.  One has to.  An actress is two distinct persons.  One of her belongs to the public.  The other is just a plain woman.  Sometimes I feel as if I were far more the first than I am the second.  There wouldn’t be any more contracts if I were not.  But never mind that.  To come back to you.  Mr. Hempel will send you a contract to-morrow.  Will you sign it?”

“Yes, if Uncle Phil is willing.  I’ll wire him to-night.  I am almost positive he will say yes.  He is very reasonable and he will see what a wonderful, wonderful chance this is for me.  I can’t thank you enough, Miss Clay.  It all takes my breath away.  But I am grateful and so happy; you can’t imagine it.”

Miss Clay smiled and drew on her gloves.  The interview was over.

“There is really nothing to thank me, for,” she said.  “The favor is on the other side.  It is I who am lucky.  The perfect understudy like a becoming hat is hard to find, but when found is absolutely beyond price.  May I send you a pass for to-morrow night to the ‘End of the Rainbow’?  Perhaps you would like to see it again and play ‘Madge’ with me from a box.  The pass will admit two.  Bring one of the lovers if you like.”

Tony wired her uncle that night.  In the morning mail arrived Max Hempel’s contract as Miss Clay had promised.  Tony regarded it with superstitious awe.  It was the first contract she had ever seen in her life, much less had offered for her signature.  The terms were, generous—­appallingly so it seemed to the girl who knew little of such things and was not inclined to over-rate her powers financially speaking.  She wisely took the contract over to the school and got the manager’s advice to “Go ahead.”