Off in one corner, talking together, were Miss Pennington and Miss
Dixon, and, as the two actresses conversed they cast envious glances,
from time to time, at Alice and Ruth. They were plainly jealous of
the rapid rise of our two friends, but the moving picture girls bore
in mind what motherly Mrs. Maguire had told them, and did not worry.
Mr. Pertell and his assistants gave out the parts in another play,
and the rehearsals began. Almost at the start there was trouble.
"I'm not going to play that part!" objected Wellington Bunn, stalking
with a tragic air toward the manager.
"Why, what's the matter with your part?"
"Why, you have been promising that you would put on one of
Shakespeare's plays, and give me a chance in Hamlet, and here you go
and cast me for one of a gang of counterfeiters. I have to wear a
black mask. The public will not know that it is Wellington Bunn
playing."
"Well, maybe it's a good thing they won't," murmured the manager, but
what he said, aloud, was:
"You will have to take that part, Mr. Bunn, or look for another
engagement."
"Then I'll leave!" the old actor declared gloomily.
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