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anged my mind about those precious jewels of yours。 We'll say they're pearls； and that my taste has suddenly changed to diamonds。'' He bowed mockingly。 ‘‘So； dear lady； keep your pearls。''
And he stood aside； opening the door for her。 She hesitated； dazed that she was leaving； with the feeling of the conquered； a field on which； by all the precedents； she ought to have been victor。 She passed a troubled night； debated whether to relate her queer experience to Mrs。 Belloc； decided for silence。 It drafted into service all her reserve of courage to walk into the theater the next day and to appear on the stage among the assembled company with her usual air。 Ransdell greeted her with his customary friendly courtesy and gave her his attention； as always。 By the time they had got through the first act； in which her part was one of four of about equal importance； she had recovered herself and was in the way to forget the strange stage director's strange attack and even stranger retreat。 But the situation changed with the second act； in which she was on the stage all the time and had the whole burden。 The act as originally written had been less generous to her； but Ransdell had taken one thing after another away from the others and had given it to her。 She made her first entrance precisely as he had trained her to make it and began。 A few seconds； and he stopped her。
‘‘Please try again； Miss Gower；'' said he。 ‘‘I'm afraid that won't do。''
She tried again； again he stopped her。 She tried a third time。 His manner was all courtesy and consideration； not the shade of a change。 But she began to feel a latent hostility。 Instinctively she knew that he would no longer help her； that he would leave her to her own resources； and judge her by how she acquitted herself。 She made a blunder of her third trial。
‘‘Really； Miss Gower； that will never do；'' said he mildly。 ‘‘Let me show you how you did it。''
He gave an imitation of hera slight caricature。 A titter ran through the chorus。 He sternly rebuked them and requested her to try again。 Her fourth attempt was her worst。 He shook his head in gentle remonstrance。 ‘‘Not quite right yet；'' said he regretfully。 ‘‘But we'll go on。''
Not far； however。 He stopped her again。 Again the courteous； kindly criticism。 And so on； through the entire act。 By the end of it； Mildred's nerves were unstrung。 She saw the whole game； and realized how helpless she was。 Before the end of that rehearsal； Mildred had slipped back from promising professional into clumsy amateur； tolerable only because of the beautiful freshness of her voiceand it was a question whether voice alone would save her。 Yet no one but Mildred herself suspected that Ransdell had done it； had revenged himself； had served notice on her that since she felt strong enough to stand alone she was to have every opportunity to do so。 He had said nothing disagree… able； on the contrary； he had been most courteous； most forbearing。
In the third act she was worse than in the second。 At the end of the rehearsal the others； theretofore flattering and encouraging； turned away to talk among themselves and avoided her。 Ransdell； about to leave； said：
‘‘Don't look so down…hearted； Miss Gower。 You'll be all right to…morrow。 An off day's nothing。''
He said it loudly enough for the others to hear。 Mildred's face grew red with white streaks across it； like the prints of a lash。 The subtlest feature of his malevolence had been that； whereas on other days he had taken her aside to criticize her； on this day he had spoken outgently； deprecatingly； but franklybefore the whole company。 Never had Mildred Gower been so sad and so blue as she was that day and that night。 She came to the rehearsal the following day with a sore throat。 She sang； but her voice cracked on the high notes。 It was a painful exhibition。 Her fellow principals； who had been rather glad of her set…back the day before； were full of pity and sympathy。 They did not express it； they were too kind for that。 But their looks； their drawing away from herMildred could have borne sneers and jeers better。 And Ransdell was SO forbearing； SO gentle。
Her voice got better； got worse。 Her acting remained mediocre to bad。 At the fifth rehearsal after the break with the stage…director； Mildred saw Crossley seated far back in the dusk of the empty theater。 It was his first appearance at rehearsals since the middle of the first week。 As soon as he had satisfied himself that all was going well； he had given his attention to other matters where things were not going well。 Mildred knew why he was thereand she acted and sang atrociously。 Ransdell aggravated her nervousness by ostentatiously trying to help her； by making seemingly adroit attempts to cover her mistakesattempts apparently thwarted and exposed only because she was hopelessly bad。
In the pause between the second and third acts Ransdell went down and sat with Crossley； and they engaged in earnest conversation。 The while； the members of the company wandered restlessly about the stage； making feeble attempts to lift the gloom with affected cheerfulness。 Ransdell returned to the stage； went up to Mildred； who was sitting idly turning the leaves of a part…book。
‘‘Miss Gower；'' said he； and never had his voice been so friendly as in these regretful accents； ‘‘don't try to go on to…day。 You're evidently not yourself。 Go home and rest for a few days。 We'll get along with your understudy； Miss Esmond。 When Mr。 Crossley wants to put you in again； he'll send for you。 You mustn't be discouraged。 I know how beginners take these things to heart。 Don't fret about it。 You can't fail to succeed。''
Mildred rose and； how she never knew； crossed the stage。 She stumbled into the flats； fumbled her way to the passageway； to her dressing…room。 She felt that she must escape from that theater quickly； or she would give way to some sort of wild attack of nerves。 She fairly ran through the streets to Mrs。 Belloc's； shut herself in her room。 But instead of the relief of a storm of tears； there came a black； hideous depression。 Hour after hour she sat； almost without motion。 The afternoon waned； the early darkness came。 Still she did not movecould not move。 At eight o'clock Mrs。 Belloc knocked。 Mildred did not answer。 Her door opened she had forgotten to lock it。 In came Mrs。 Belloc。
‘‘Isn't that you； sitting by the window？'' she said。
‘‘Yes；'' replied Mildred。
‘‘I recognized the outline of your hat。 Besides； who else could it be but you？ I've saved some dinner for you。 I thought you were still out。''
Mildred did not answer。
‘‘What's the matter？'' said Agnes？ ‘‘Ill？ bad news？''
‘‘I've lost my position；'' said Mildred。
A pause。 Then Mrs。 Belloc felt her way across the room until she was touching the girl。 ‘‘Tell me about it； dear；'' said she。
In a monotonous； lifeless way Mildred told the story。 It was some time after she finished when Agnes said：
‘‘That's badbad； but it might be worse。 You must go to see the manager； Crossley。''
‘‘Why？'' said Mildred。
‘‘Tell him what you told me。''
Mildred's silence was dissent。
‘‘It can't do any harm；'' urged Agnes