It had made James Talbot feel very bitter to think that should his wife die the Frost fortune would go entirely to his step-son.

"He doesn't deserve a cent of it—with his impudence to me and his running away from home," he said to himself. "The money ought to come to me."

The more he thought over the matter the more bitter did he become. He tried to think of some way by which he could alter the conditions of Mr. Frost's will, but nothing came to his mind that was satisfactory.

Of course he did not dare show his wife his real feelings. She was still angry over the lost letter, and he was afraid of causing an open rupture.

He concluded to do everything he could to win her good graces, and then question her again about the will and the property. Perhaps he might be able, he thought, to get control of the[Pg 198] money lying in the bank, which amounted to about thirty thousand dollars.

"Once I get control of that," he told himself, "Robert can whistle for his share. I'll run away to Europe before I'll give it up."

The first thing he did was to buy Mrs. Talbot a new bonnet, since he had heard that a woman will be pleased over a new bonnet, if over nothing else. The lady, however, received the gift rather coldly.

"It is very nice," she said. "But I do not need it, James."

"Never mind, my love, I want my wife to look as good as or better than any lady in Granville."

"Thank you, but I never tried to set the fashion."

"I know that. But you should—with so much money behind you."

"The money is for Robert, not for me." And Mrs. Talbot sighed as she thought of her son, and wondered how he was faring.

"Always the boy," thought James Talbot savagely. "Will she never forget him?"

"There is going to be a play at the opera house to-night," he said sweetly. "I would like you to go. You can wear the new bonnet, if you will."

[Pg 199]

"Thank you. What is the play, James?"

"'All for Love,' a romance of high life in New York. The newspaper says it is a good play."

"The newspapers cannot always be depended upon. Do you know anything of the company?"

"It is the Dixon Combination Comedy Company of Chicago."

"I never heard of it."

"I am afraid, my love, that you do not keep very good track of theatrical affairs."

"I like to read about the good ones in the papers."

"This company has some very good advertising. One of the bills says they carry ten star actors and actresses. I am sure you will like the play."

"I will go if you wish me to," answered Mrs. Talbot, although she was doubtful if she would enjoy the performance. During the time Mr. Frost had been living, husband and wife had gone to both the theater and to the concert, but only to the very best. But Mr. Talbot had no taste for such things, and an ordinary performance pleased him about as well as one which was far superior.

There had been no show in Granville for over[Pg 200] two weeks. Consequently when the doors of the opera house were opened that night, the fair-sized hall became crowded in short order.

The Dixon Combination Comedy Company was entirely unknown, and for good reason—it had never existed until two weeks previous to the opening at Granville.

Jack Dixon, the manager, had been a "hanger-on" among theatrical people for several years, and having received several hundred dollars through the death of a rich aunt, had at once set to work to put a company of his own on the road.

The man meant well, but he knew very little about the business, as was proved by his hiring Livingston Palmer and several others who were no better actors.

Rehearsals had been backward and unsatisfactory from the start, and the combination would have done much better had it held back for another week for practice before appearing in public.

But everyone was anxious to make a hit, and nobody thought failure possible.

"We will carry the town by storm," said the leading man, a fellow by the name of Caster. He had been on the boards for several years, but[Pg 201] had never before risen to a position higher than that of being a member of a stock company attached to a dime museum.

"Yes, we will show them what real acting is," answered Livingston Palmer. "To-morrow the newspapers will be full of complimentary notices."

At quarter to eight the orchestra, consisting of a piano player, a violinist, a flutist, and a cornetist, struck up on the overture, and at eight o'clock sharp the curtain went up on the first act of "All for Love."

The scene represented Fifth avenue, in New York—at least, so the programme said,—although it is doubtful if anybody living on that fashionable thoroughfare would have recognized the locality. People were coming and going, and doing this as if their lives depended upon it, the same person appearing and disappearing every half minute or so.

In the crowd was a girl who was supposed to be a companion to a rich old lady. As she stood waiting for something, the villain of the play, a fashionably-dressed man, came up and tried to tempt her into stealing the rich lady's jewels. While this was going on the butler of the lady's mansion appeared and overheard the plot.

[Pg 202]

The acting was crude from the start, but at the opening of a play few people pay much attention, and it was not until Livingston Palmer appeared as the spying butler that the audience began to grow attentive.

"Ha, what is this I hear!" cried Palmer, as he peered forth from behind a dry goods box set up against a building marked Hotel. "She is plotting to rob my mistress. Base woman that she is, I will—will—will——"

Palmer should have said, "I will expose her to Mrs. Ulmer and have her arrested," but the words would not come, for he had caught sight of the hundreds of faces in the audience and become stage-frightened in consequence.

"............