Montague stood for a few moments in the wings, watching the scene-shifters putting the final touches to the new set, and the various characters taking their positions. Then they went out to their seats. "Isn't she a jewel?" asked Oliver.

"She's very pretty," the other admitted.

"She came right out of the slums," said Oliver - "over on Rivington Street. That don't happen very often."

"How did you come to know her?" asked his brother.

"Oh, I picked her out. She was in a chorus, then. I got her first speaking part."

"Did you?" said the other, in surprise. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, a little money," was the reply. "Money will do most anything. And I was in love with her - that's how I got her."

Montague said nothing, but sat in thought.

"We'll take her out to supper and make her happy," added Oliver, as the curtain started up. "She's lonesome, I guess. You see, I promised Betty I'd reform."

All through that scene and the next one Rosalie acted for them; she was so full of verve and merriment that there was quite a stir in the audience, and she got several rounds of applause. Then, when the play was over, she extricated herself from the arms of the handsome young soldier, and fled to her dressing-room, and when Oliver and Montague arrived, she was half ready for the street.

They went up Broadway, and from a group of people coming out of another stage-entrance a young girl came to join them - an airy little creature with the face of a doll-baby, and a big hat with a purple feather on top. This was "Toodles" - otherwise known as Helen Gwynne; and she took Montague's arm, and they fell in behind Oliver and his companion.

Montague wondered what one said to a chorus-girl on the way to supper. Afterward his brother told him that Toodles had been the wife of a real-estate agent in a little town in Oklahoma, and had run away from respectability and boredom with a travelling theatrical company. Now she was tripping her part in the musical comedy which Montague had seen at Mrs. Lane's; and incidentally swearing devotion to a handsome young "wine-agent." She confided to Montague that she hoped the latter might see her that evening - he needed to be made jealous.