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“Why, there’s Pearlie Schultz,” he said at last, with a grin.

“Who’s she?” The leading lady sat up expectantly.

“Steno.”

The expectant figure drooped. “Blonde? And Irish crochet collar with a black velvet bow on her chest?”

“Who? Pearlie? Naw. You mustn’t get Pearlie mixed with the common or garden variety of stenos. Pearlie is fat, and she wears specs and she’s got a double chin. Her hair is skimpy and she don’t wear no rat. W’y no traveling man has ever tried to flirt with Pearlie yet. Pearlie’s what you’d call a woman, all right. You wouldn’t never make a mistake and think she’d escaped from the first row in the chorus.”

The leading lady rose from the bed, reached out for her pocket-book, extracted a dime, and held it out to the bell-boy.

“Here. Will you ask her to come up here to me? Tell her I said please.”

After he had gone she seated herself on the edge of the bed again, with a look in her eyes like that which you have seen in the eyes of a dog that is waiting for a door to be opened.

Fifteen minutes passed. The look in the eyes of the leading lady began to fade. Then a footstep sounded down the hall. The leading lady cocked her head to catch it, and smiled blissfully. It was a heavy, comfortable footstep, under which a board or two creaked. There came a big, sensible thump-thump-thump at the door, with stout knuckles. The leading lady flew to answer it. She flung the door wide and stood there, clutching her kimono at the throat and looking up into a red, good-natured face.

Pearlie Schultz looked down at the leading lady kindly and benignantly, as a mastiff might look at a terrier.

“Lonesome for a bosom to cry on?” asked she, and stepped into the room, walked to the west windows, and jerked down the shades with a zip-zip, shutting off the yellow glare. She came back to where the leading lady was standing and patted her on the cheek, lightly.

“You tell me all about it,” said she, smiling.

The leading lady opened her lips, gulped, tried again, gulped again–Pearlie Schultz shook a sympathetic head.

“Ain’t had a decent, close-to-nature powwow with a woman for weeks and weeks, have you?”

“How did you know?” cried the leading lady.

“You’ve got that hungry look. There was a lady drummer here last winter, and she had the same expression. She was so dead sick of eating her supper and then going up to her ugly room and reading and sewing all evening that it was a wonder she’d stayed good. She said it was easy enough for the men. They could smoke, and play pool, and go to a show, and talk to any one that looked good to ’em. But if she tried to amuse herself everybody’d say she was tough. She cottoned to me like a burr to a wool skirt. She traveled for a perfumery house, and she said she hadn’t talked to a woman, except the dry-goods clerks who were nice to her trying to work her for her perfume samples, for weeks an’ weeks. Why, that woman made crochet by the bolt, and mended her clothes evenings whether they needed it or not, and read till her eyes come near going back on her.”

The leading lady seized Pearlie’s hand and squeezed it.

“That’s it! Why, I haven’t talked–really talked–to a real woman since the company went out on the road. I’m leading lady of the `Second Wife’ company, you know. It’s one of those small cast plays, with only five people in it. I play the wife, and I’m the only woman in the cast. It’s terrible. I ought to be thankful to get the part these days. And I was, too. But I didn’t know it would be like this. I’m going crazy. The men in the company are good kids, but I can’t go trailing around after them all day. Besides, it wouldn’t be right. They’re all marri
ed, except Billy, who plays the kid, and he’s busy writing a vawdeville skit that he thinks the New York managers are going to fight for when he gets back home. We were to play Athens, Wisconsin, to-night, but the house burned down night before last, and that left us with an open date. When I heard the news you’d have thought I had lost my mother. It’s bad enough having a whole day to kill but when I think of to-night,” the leading lady’s voice took on a note of hysteria, “it seems as though I’d—-“