When she was wearing her skirt and jersey Margaret’s dyed hair was not too noticeable, but when it was seen against a bright scarlet frock the effect was startling. And when, to finish off the outfit, there were thin legs in black woollen stockings and black boots, poor Margaret was a figure of fun.

Sir John gave Tommy a look and buried his face in his handkerchief. Tommy hid his behind a letter.

Margaret had not liked the idea of the red dress from the beginning. Nor had she wanted her hair dyed for Fauntleroy, though she had liked the effect when it was done, so she did not need even well-disguised sniggers to tell her how she appeared to the two men. Carefully she closed the door so Sarah would not hear, then, her eyes blazing and her chin in the air, she stormed towards Tommy’s desk.

‘All right – laugh. I may look funny to you. I had nothing they thought suitable for me to wear to come and see you. So Lou – she’s Sarah’s sister – cut up her own dress to make me this frock, and my hair is dyed because I was acting Lord Fauntleroy, but when the dye is out it’s brown like a chestnut. Oh yes, and I suppose you think the boots are funny with this red dress, but they’re all I have and, if you want to know, I hate boots. But I am not a charity child though I was once in an orphanage. I was found by the rector in a basket with three of everything, all of the very best quality, and money was sent every year for my keep and … and—’

There, to her shame, Margaret had to stop for she was overtaken by grief. She had felt like a person with the Fortescue Company, accepted by them all as an actress, and now there were these sniggering men! Swallow as she would, she could not stop the tears which poured down her cheeks.

Sir John was not a loving father for nothing. He came to Margaret and lifted her face in his hands. ‘You’re right to be angry. We were very rude to smile. But being angry may have helped you. Anastasia, in the play I am casting, has to be angry, and when she is angry she should look very much like you. Now, let’s start all over again.’

An hour later a triumphant Margaret and Sarah left The Dolphin Theatre, Margaret clutching the script of The Little Queen. She had not been promised the part but there was a good chance for her, and at the worst she was to have the understudy.

‘You will get two pounds a week to understudy,’ Tommy explained, ‘and four pounds if you play the part.’

Sarah had been brought in to hear the arrangements and she plucked up her courage to ask a question.

‘If she is engaged could she have a small advance for clothes?’