very slim, looking at him whimsically across the dinner-table, the receiver in her hand. Then a strange thing happened. Barbara quickly put the receiver down on the desk and clasped her hands together, her eyes opened wide in amazement. “Daddy,” she cried, “it’s the Palaceum... the manager’s office... they want you urgently! Oh, daddy, I believe it is an engagement!” Mr. Mackwayte rose to his feet in agitation, a touch of color creeping into his gray cheeks. “Nonsense, my dear!” he answered, “at this time of night! Why, it’s past eight... their first house is just finishing... they don’t go engaging people at this time of day... they’ve got other things to think of!” He went over to the desk and picked up the receiver. “Mackwayte speaking!” he said, with a touch of stage majesty in his voice. Instantly a voice broke in on the other end of the wire, a perfect torrent of words. “Mackwayte? Ah! I’m glad I caught you at home. Got your props there? Good. Hickie of Hickie and Flanagan broke his ankle during their turn at the first house just now, and I want you to take their place at the second house. Your turn’s at 9.40: it’s a quarter past eight now: I’ll have a car for you at your place at ten to nine sharp. Bring your band parts and lighting directions with you... don’t forget! You get twenty minutes, on! Right! Goodbye!” “The Palaceum want me to deputize for Hickie and Flanagan, my dear,” he said a little tremulously, “9.40... the second house... it’s... it’s very unexpected!” Barbara ran up and throwing her arms about his neck, kissed him. “How splendid!” she exclaimed, “the Palaceum, daddy! You’ve never had an engagement like this before... the biggest hall in London...!! “Only for a night, my dear,” said Mr. Mackwayte modestly. “But if they like you, daddy, if it goes down... what will you give them, daddy?” Mr. Mackwayte scratched his chin. “It’s the biggest theatre in London,” he mused, “It’ll have to be broad effects... and they’ll want something slap up modern, my dear, I’m thinking...”
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