“One of the Portland papers, in c’menting on the show—­” the dancer resumed.

“Say, Julie, want to walk down to Kearney with me?” Miss Girard said, jumping up.  “I want to get my corsets, and we might drop in and see if we can work Foster for some seats for to-night.”

“I’ve got a date to-night,” said Julia, with a glance at her mother.

“What’s that?” Emeline said sharply.

“Why, Mama, I told you I was going to the Orpheum with the Rosenthals—­”

“She’s going with the whole bunch,” Mrs. Page commented, with a shrug.  “I can’t stand them, but she can!”

“I think Mark Rosenthal’s a darling,” some girl said, “I want to tell you right now there’s not anybody can play the piano as good as he can.”

“That’s right,” Julia said, very low.

“Well, excuse me from the bunch!” Mrs. Page said lazily.

“But we’ve got a real pretty little blush, just the same!” Mrs. Tarbury said, smiling at Julia.  The girls shouted, and Julia grew still more red.  “Never mind, baby love!” said the older woman soothingly.  “It’s just Aunt Min’s nonsense!  Say, but listen, Julia!” Her tone grew suddenly intense.  “I meant to ask you something—­listen.  Say, no fooling, Artheris wants to know if you would take a job.”

“Twenty a week, and twenty towns a month,” Julia said, still ruffled.  “No, I would not!”

“No, this isn’t anything like that, dearie,” explained Mrs. Tarbury.  “There’s going to be a big amachure show for charity at the Grand next month, and they want a few professionals in it, to buck up the others.  All the swells are going to be in it—­it’s going to be something elegant!  Of course they’d pay something, and it’d be a lot of fun for you!  Artheris wants you to do it, and it wouldn’t hurt you none to have him on your side, Julia.  I promised I’d talk to you.”

“One performance?” Julia asked.  “What play?”

“I’d do it in a minute,” said the stout actress from Portland, whose dance had been so gratifying a success, “but I’m signed up.”

“One night, dear,” Mrs. Tarbury said.  “I don’t think they’ve decided on the play.”

“I don’t know,” Julia hesitated.  “What d’ye think, Mama?”

“I think he’s got his gall along,” Mrs. Page admitted.  “One night!—­and to learn the whole thing for that.  I’ll tell you what to tell him—­you tell him this:  you say that you can’t do it for one cent less’n a hundred dollars!”

“Lay down, Towse!” said Connie Girard, and Mrs. Tarbury expressed the same incredulity as she said benevolently:  “What a pipe dream, Em—­she’s lucky if she gets ten!”

“Ten!” squeaked Julia’s mother, but Julia silenced her by saying carelessly: 

“I’ll tell you what, Aunt Min.  If Con and I get through in time we’ll go in and see Artheris to-day.  I’d do it for twenty-five—­”

“You would not!” said her mother.

“Well, you might get twenty-five,” Mrs. Tarbury said, mollified, “if it’s a long part.”