Anna got up and looked at the mirror and then at the poster. The
likeness was ridiculous.
"Well?" she said, sitting down again. "I want an engagement."
"Capital!" Mr. Earles declared. "Any choice as to which of the Halls?
You can pick and choose, you know. I recommend the 'Unusual.'"
"I have no choice," Anna declared.
"I can get you," Mr. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon
her, "forty at the 'Unusual,' two turns, encores voluntary, six for
matinees. We should not bar any engagements at private houses, but in
other respects the arrangement must be exclusive."
"Forty what?" Anna asked bewildered.
"Guineas, of course," Mr. Earles answered, glibly. "Forty guineas a
week. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are
expenses, and just now business is bad."
Anna was speechless, but she had presence of mind enough to sit still
until she had recovered herself. Mr. Earles watched her anxiously. She
appeared to be considering.
"Of course," he ventured, "I could try for more at the 'Alhambra.' Very
likely they would give----"
"I should be satisfied with the sum you mention," Anna said quietly,
"but there are difficulties."
"Don't use such a word, my dear young lady," Mr. Earles said
persuasively. "Difficulties indeed. We'll make short work of them."
"I hope that you may," Anna answered enigmatically. "In the first
place, I have no objection to the posters, as they have no name on
them, but I do not wish to appear at all upon the stage as 'Alcide.'
If you engage me it must be upon my own merits. You are taking it for
granted that I am 'Alcide.' As a matter of fact, I am not."
"Excuse me," Mr. Earles said, "but this is rubbish."
"Call it what you like," Anna answered. "I can sing the songs 'Alcide'
sang, and in the same style. But I will not be engaged as 'Alcide' or
advertised under that name."
Mr. Earles scratched his chin for a moment thoughtfully. Then a light
seemed to break in upon him. He slapped his knee.
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "Of course, I remember now. It was your
sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn't it?"
Anna nodded.
"It was," she admitted.
"You needn't say a word more," Mr. Earles declared. "I see the
difficulty. The old fool's been working on you through your sister to
keep off the stage. He's a prig to the finger-tips, is Sir
John--doesn't know what an artist is. It's awkward, but we'll get
round it somehow. Now I'll tell you what I propose. Let me run you for
six months. I'll give you, say, thirty-five guineas a week clear of
expenses, and half of anything you earn above the two turns a night.
What do you say?"