“That fellow at the door there didn’t want to let me in, until I paid him.  I knew it was you, all right.  Say, you’ve got a great show.  You do your part fine.  I knew you would.  I just happened to be passing to night and thought I’d drop in for a few minutes.  I saw your name on the program, but I didn’t remember it until you came on the stage.  Then it struck me all at once.  Say, you could have knocked me down with a feather.  That’s the same name you used out there in Chicago, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” answered Carrie, mildly, overwhelmed by the man’s assurance.

“I knew it was, the moment I saw you.  Well, how have you been, anyhow?”

“Oh, very well,” said Carrie, lingering in her dressing-room.  She was rather dazed by the assault.  “How have you been?”

“Me?  Oh, fine.  I’m here now.”

“Is that so?” said Carrie.

“Yes.  I’ve been here for six months.  I’ve got charge of a branch here.”

“How nice!”

“Well, when did you go on the stage, anyhow?” inquired Drouet.

“About three years ago,” said Carrie.

“You don’t say so!  Well, sir, this is the first I’ve heard of it.  I knew you would, though.  I always said you could act—­didn’t I?”

Carrie smiled.

“Yes, you did,” she said.

“Well, you do look great,” he said.  “I never saw anybody improve so.  You’re taller, aren’t you?”

“Me?  Oh, a little, maybe.”

He gazed at her dress, then at her hair, where a becoming hat was set jauntily, then into her eyes, which she took all occasion to avert.  Evidently he expected to restore their old friendship at once and without modification.

“Well,” he said, seeing her gather up her purse, handkerchief, and the like, preparatory to departing, “I want you to come out to dinner with me; won’t you?  I’ve got a friend out here.”

“Oh, I can’t,” said Carrie.  “Not to-night.  I have an early engagement to-morrow.”

“Aw, let the engagement go.  Come on.  I can get rid of him.  I want to have a good talk with you.”

“No, no,” said Carrie; “I can’t.  You mustn’t ask me any more.  I don’t care for a late dinner.”

“Well, come on and have a talk, then, anyhow.”

“Not to-night,” she said, shaking her head.  “We’ll have a talk some other time.”

As a result of this, she noticed a shade of thought pass over his face, as if he were beginning to realize that things were changed.  Good-nature dictated something better than this for one who had always liked her.

“You come around to the hotel to-morrow,” she said, as sort of penance for error.  “You can take dinner with me.”

“All right,” said Drouet, brightening.  “Where are you stopping?”

“At the Waldorf,” she answered, mentioning the fashionable hostelry then but newly erected.

“What time?”

“Well, come at three,” said Carrie, pleasantly.