An actor may love with all the pulse and ardor of one not as much accustomed to being caught in the mesh, and often the mess, of Cupid. And often the amorous appeal he is called upon to make upon the stage holds more than a grain of sincerity and candor in it, a note that those behind the footlights fail to detect. And just as often the other man, the one who does not kiss the particular "her" in the play, emits his curses with more depth and feeling than the audience can fathom. An actor and his wife live happily, contented with each other and fate, until a second friend intrudes, very much in the usual way. The three people appear in the same production, and the husband realizes that the love scene between his wife and his friend is un-artificial enough to satisfy the most censorious of dramatic critics. The husband is inclined to do bodily harm to his traitorous friend, and is restrained by a mutual chum. The director realizes the situation, and arranges to have the husband play the part of the lover. In the love scene the husband acquits himself very creditably, doing far than the director expected of him. After the rehearsal he takes husband and wife into his private office, and utter a good, sound lecture they depart, sweethearts once more.