Athalie, secretly dismayed, forced a polite smile. Mrs. Bellmore blew

a few smoke rings toward the ceiling.

"Are you in business, Miss Greensleeve?"

"Yes.... I am looking for a position."

"What a pretty voice--and refined way of speaking!" exclaimed Mrs.

Bellmore frankly. "I guess you've seen better days. Most people have.

Tell you the truth, though, I haven't. I'm better off than I ever was

before. Of course this is the dull season, but things are picking up.

What is your line, Miss Greensleeve?"

"Stenographer."

"Oh! Well, I don't suppose I could do anything for you, could I?"

"I don't know what your business is," ventured Athalie, who,

heretofore had not dared even to surmise what might be the vocation of

this very large and faded woman who wore a pink kimono and a dozen

rings on her nicotine-stained fingers, and who smoked incessantly.

The woman seemed to be a trifle surprised: "Haven't you ever heard of

Grace Bellmore?" she asked.

"I don't think so," said Athalie with increasing diffidence.

"Well, maybe you wouldn't, not being in the profession. The managers

all know me. I run an Emergency Agency on Broadway."

"I don't think I understand," said the girl.

"No? Then it's like this: a show gets stuck and needs a quick study.

They call me up and I throw them what they want at an hour's notice.

They can always count on me for anything from wardrobe mistress to

prima donna. That's how I get mine," she concluded with a jolly laugh.

Athalie, feeling a little more confidence in her visitor, smiled at

her.

"Say--you're a beauty!" exclaimed Mrs. Bellmore, gazing at her.

"You're all there, too. I could place you easy if you ever need it.

You don't sing, do you?"

"No."

"Ever had your voice tried?"

"No."

"Dance?"

"I dance--whatever is being danced--rather easily."

"No stage experience?"

"No."

"Well--what do you say, Miss Greensleeve?"

Athalie coloured and laughed: "Thank you, but I had rather work at

stenography."

Mrs. Bellmore said: "I certainly hate to admit it, and knock my own

profession, but any good stenographer in a year makes more than many a

star you read about.... Unless there's men putting up for her."

Athalie nodded gravely.

"All the same you'd make a peach of a show-girl," added Mrs. Bellmore

regretfully. And, after a rather intent interval of silent scrutiny:

"You're a good girl, too.... Say, you do get pretty lonely

sometimes, don't you, dear?"




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