CHAPTER XV—AHOY! FOR THE STARS AND STRIPES AGAIN

Finally the tourists stopped at Nantes where the famous edict of Henri the IVth was proclaimed in 1598. Then they drove on to Angers, with the old Chateau d’ Angers, built by Louis IXth, about 1250.

They stopped over night at Angers and drove to Saumur the next day, where several pieces of rare old tapestry were seen in the ancient church of St. Pierre.

That night they reached Tours where they planned to stop, in order to make an early start for Loches with its famous chateau. Adjoining this chateau was a thousand-year-old church of St. Ours which Mr. Fabian desired to show the girls.

The old keeper of the church mentioned the Chateau of Amboise which was only a short distance further on the road and was said to be well worth visiting. So they drove there and saw the chapel of St. Hubert which was built by Charles the VIIth. Here lies buried the remains of Leonardo da Vinci, the famous painter.

While at St. Hubert’s Chapel, the tourists heard of still another ancient chateau of the 10th century, which was but a few miles further on, on the Loire. As this Chateau ’de Chaumont was only open to visitors on certain days and this day happened to be one of those days, they visited the place.

“My gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Alexander, when they came from the last ancient pile. “I’ll be so glad to get back to Denver, where the oldest house is only half a century old, that I won’t say a word if you’ll agree to only use another precious week lookin’ at these moldy old rocks and moss-back roofs.”

His friends laughed, for they knew him well by this time. Mrs. Alexander, however, was not so thankful to go back to Denver, nor was she willing to see any more old chateaux. So she said: “Let’s drive on to Paris where we have so much shopping to do.”

“Oh no, Ma. The keeper of that last chateau told us there was the finest old place of all, a few miles on, so we want to see that as long as we are here,” said Dodo.

“All right, then! You-all go on and see it, but I’ll stay here,” declared Mrs. Alexander.

“I don’t want to see any more ruins, Maggie, so s’pose you and I drive in your car and let Dodo drive the touring car to any old stone-heap they want to visit,” said Mr. Alexander.

“All right, Ebeneezer. I honestly believe I’d rather sit beside you, in my new car, than have to limp around these old houses,” sighed Mrs. Alexander.

Her words were not very gracious, but her spouse thought that, being her guest in the new car, was better than having to wait for hours outside a ruin. So Dodo drove her friends on to the Chateau de Blois, and they inspected the old place, then saw the famous stable that was built to accommodate twelve hundred horses at one time.

“Here we are, but a short distance from Orleans—why not run over there and visit the place, then drive back to Nantes to meet your father and mother,” suggested Mr. Fabian.

“It seems too bad that we have to go all the way back for them, when we are so near Paris, now,” said Dodo.

“Oh, but we haven’t finished the most interesting section of France, yet!” exclaimed Eleanor, who had been looking over Mr. Fabian’s road-map.

“In that case, I fear we will lose Ma for company,” said Dodo, laughingly. “As we come nearer Paris, she is more impatient to reach there. She may suddenly take it into her head to let her car skid along the road that leads away from us and straight for Paris.”

From Nantes they drove straight on without stopping until Caens was reached; Mr. Fabian pointed out various places along the road, and told of famous historical facts in connection with them, but they did not visit any of the scenes.

Caen, with its old churches and quaint buildings, was very interesting to the girls. Then at Bayeaux they went to see the wonderful Bayeaux tapestry which was wrought by Matilda and her Ladies in Waiting in 1062. This tapestry is two hundred and thirty feet long and twenty inches wide, but it pictures the most marvellous historical scenes ever reproduced in weaving.

From Bayeaux they went to Mont St. Michel to see the eight hundred year-old monastery which is so well preserved. Rouen, the capital of Normandy, was the next stopping place on the itinerary, and here they saw many ancient Norman houses as well as churches. But the principal point of interest for the girls, was the monument in Rouen, erected to the memory of Joan of Arc, who was burned to death for her faith.

The night they spent at Rouen, Mr. Alexander had a serious talk with Mr. Fabian and his girls.

“You see, I want to please you-all, but Maggie won’t stand for any more of this gallivantin’ around old churches. I’m gettin’ awful tired of it, myself, but then I don’t count much, anyway.

“Maggie says she’s goin’ right on to Paris, whether you-all do so or not; and if I let her go there alone, she’ll buy her head off with fine clothes, and then Dodo and me won’t know what to do to cart them all back to the States. So I have to go with her in self-defense, you understand!”

They laughed at the worried expression on the little man’s face, and Mr. Fabian said: “Well, Mr. Alex, we are through sight-seeing for this time, anyway, so we may as well run back to Paris when you do.”

“Oh, that’s good news! Almost as good as if I won the first prize in the Louisanny Lottery!” laughed Mr. Alexander, jocosely.

So they all drove to Paris, where Mr. Ashby was to meet them, in a few days. As Mr. Alexander deftly threaded the car in and out through the congested traffic, he sighed and said: “I never thought I’d be so glad to see this good-for-nothin’ town again. But I’ve been so tossed and torn tourin’ worst places, that even Paris looks good to me, now.”

His friends laughed and his wife said: “Why, it is the most wonderful city in the world! I am going to enjoy myself all I can in the next three days.”

“You’d better, Maggie! ’cause we are leavin’ this wild town in just three days’ time!” declared Mr. Alexander.

“Why—where are you going, then?” asked Mrs. Alexander, surprised at her husband’s determined tone.

“Straight back to Denver, as fast as a ship and steam-cars will carry us!”

“Never! Why, Ebeneezer, I haven’t succeeded in doing what I came over for,” argued Mrs. Alexander.

“No, thank goodness; and Dodo says she’s standin’ for a career now,” laughed Mr. Alexander. “I agree with her, and she can start right in this Fall to study Interior Decoratin’, if she likes.”

Mrs. Alexander did not reply, and no one knew what she thought of Dodo’s determination, but when all the shopping was done, and Mr. Ashby met them at the hotel, she seemed as anxious as the others, to start for home.

“We are to pick up Ruth and Mrs. Ashby at Dover, you know,” said Mr. Ashby, when he concluded his plans for the return home.

“Well, we have had a wonderful tour out of this summer. I never dreamed there were so many marvellous things to see, in Europe,” said Polly.

That evening, several letters were handed to the Fabian party, and among them was one for Polly and another for Eleanor. Polly’s was stamped “Oak Creek” and the hand-writing looked a deal like Tom Larimer’s. But Eleanor’s was from Denver and Dodo cried teasingly: “Oh, I recognize Paul Stewart’s writing! It hasn’t changed one bit since he was a boy and used to send me silly notes at school.”

Eleanor laughed at that, but why should she blush? Polly gazed thoughtfully at her, and decided that Nolla must have no foolish love affair, yet—not even with Paul Stewart!

Then Eleanor caught Polly’s eye and seemed to comprehend what was passing through her mind. She quickly rose to the occasion.

“Polly, if I confess that my letter is from Paul, will you own up that yours is from Tom—and tell us the truth about the American Beauty Roses?”

Polly became as crimson as the roses mentioned, and sent her chum a look that should have annihilated her. But Eleanor laughed.

That evening, as the merry party sat at dinner in the gay Parisian dining-room, Mr. Alexander suddenly sat up. His lower jaw dropped. He was opposite a wall-mirror and in its reflection he could see who came in at the door back of him.

He had been telling a funny incident of the tour and had but half finished it, so his abrupt silence caused everyone to look at him. His expression then made the others turn and look at what had made him forget his story.

In the doorway stood Count Chalmys, looking around the room. Now his eyes reached the American party at the round table and he smiled delightedly. In another moment he was across the room and bowing before the ladies.

Mr. Alexander grunted angrily and kept his eyes upon his plate. He never wanted to see another man who had a title! But his wife made amends for his apparent disregard for conventions. She made room beside herself and insisted that the Count sit down and dine.

“I never had a pleasanter surprise,” said he. “I expected to see the Marquis here, but I find my dear American friends, instead.”

“Humph! What play are you acting in now, Count?” asked Mr. Alexander, shortly.

“That’s what brought me to Paris. I was to meet the Marquis here, and we both were to sail from Havre, day after tomorrow. We have accepted a long engagement with a leading picture company in California, so I am to go across, at once,” explained the Count, nothing daunted by Mr. Alexander’s tone and aggressive manner.

“Oh really! How perfectly lovely for us all!” exclaimed Mrs. Alexander, clasping her hands in joy.

Then she turned to her daughter who seemed not to be giving as much attention to the illustrious addition to the party, as Mrs. Alexander thought proper.

“Dodo, _must_ you talk such nonsense with Polly when our dear Count is with us and, most likely, has wonderful things to tell us of his adventures since last we saw him at his beautiful palace?”

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Ma, but I didn’t know the Count had said anything to me,” hastily returned Dodo.

“I really haven’t, as yet, Miss Alexander, but there is every symptom that something is being mulled over in my brain,” was the merry retort from the Count.

“All the same, Dodo, I want you to give attention to the dear Count, now that he is with us, once more,” said Mrs. Alexander, with such dignity as would suit the mother-in-law of a Count.

“Aye, aye, Sir!” laughed the irrepressible Dodo, bringing her right hand to her forehead in a military salute.

“I joined the party, just now, merely to share a very felicitous secret with you. One that I feel sure you will all be pleased to hear. Perhaps the three young ladies in the group will be more interested in my secret than the matrons,” ventured Count Chalmys, with charming self-consciousness.

Instantly, Mrs. Alexander interpreted the secret as one that meant success to her strenuous endeavors to find a “title” for her daughter. She had heard that foreign nobility made no secret of love or proposals, but spoke to interested friends of intentions to marry, even before the young woman had been told or had accepted a proposal of marriage. This, then, must be what Count Chalmys was about to tell them.

“Oh, my _dear_ Count! Before you share that secret with every one, especially while the children are present, wouldn’t you just as soon wait and have a private little chat with me?” gushed Mrs. Alexander, tapping him fondly on the cheek with her feather fan.

The Count stared at her in perplexity for he was not following her mood, nor did he give one fleeting thought to such foolishness as she endowed him with entertaining.

“_You_ know, my dear Count! I am speaking of certain little personal matters regarding settlements and such like, which I only can discuss with you, satisfactorily. After that, you can confide in the others, if you like. However, I should think you would speak to the one most concerned, before you mention it in public.” Mrs. Alexander spoke in confidential tones meant only for the Count’s ear.

“My dear lady! I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean. I was only going to tell my good friends, here, that——”

“Yes, yes! I know what you were going to say, _dear_ Count,” hastily interrupted Mrs. Alexander, “but allow me to advise you: Say nothing until after I have had a private talk with you. I am sure Dodo will look at things very differently after I have had time to get your view-points and then tell them to her.”

Count Chalmys began to receive light on the hitherto unenlightening advices from the earnest lady. He now had difficulty in hiding a broad smile. But Mrs. Alexander paid no heed to him.

“You see, Count dear, we shall have several wonderful days on this trip across, in which you can make the best of your opportunities with Dodo, but really, I think it wise to consult with me first.”

“My dear Mrs. Alexander! won’t you permit me to explain myself, before you go deeper into this problem from which you will have chagrin in finding a pleasant way out?” asked the Count.

Mrs. Alexander gazed at him in frowning perplexity. “What is the happy secret you wished to share with us, if it is not your intention to propose to one of the young ladies in our party?”

“I am to have a third member in my party, this trip, although she is not one of the company in California,” said the Count, smilingly. “I mean the pretty girl who played in the picture in Venice. We were married last week, and having settled all matters at Chalmys and leased the place for a term, we will remain in the United States for a long time.”

At this unexpected information, Mrs Alexander almost swooned, but her husband seemed to change his manners as quickly as if they were old clothes. He smiled cordially at the Count and suggested a toast to his bride—but the toast was given with Ginger Ale.

That evening the Count introduced his Countess, and Mrs. Alexander gritted her teeth in impotent rage. “Oh, how nearly had she plucked this prize for Dodo, and now he had married a plain little actress!” thought she.

But she never knew that the Count had been attentive to his lady-love for three years before Mrs. Alexander ever met him. Had it not been for the heavy debts of his Italian Estate, he would never have delayed his proposal. Even as it was, he found happiness to be more important in life than wealth and a palace.

The young countess was very pretty and promised to be a welcome addition to the group of young folks. Polly, Eleanor and Dodo liked her immensely, from the moment they saw her charming smile as she acknowledged the introductions. Evidently she was very glad to find a number of young Americans of her own age with whom she could associate on the trip across the Atlantic.

Everyone but Mrs. Alexander, made the young couple feel very much at ease. Ebeneezer Alexander saw and understood his wife’s aloofness and straightway he decided to speak a bit of his mind to her as soon as they were in the shelter of their own suite at the hotel.

“Now, lem’me tell you what, Maggie! I ain’t goin’ to have you actin’ like all get-out, just because Chalmys went and married the gal he loved, disappointin’ you, thereby. Even if he had gone your way of plannin’, and ast Dodo to marry him, I’d have to say ‘NO!’ He’s saved me from hurtin’ his feelin’s, see?”

Mrs. Alexander tried to stare her insignificant lord into silence, but the little man had found his metal while traveling with appreciative people, and he was not to be downed any more by mere looks and empty words from his wife.

“Yeh! you kin sit there and stare all you like but stares don’t hurt and they ain’t changin’ the case, at all. Dodo wasn’t a-goin’ to marry no one, not even if you cried your head off for it, ’cause she’s made up her mind to try out decoratin’ for a time. So you jest watch your p’s and q’s when you’re mixin’ in with the Chalmys; and don’t show your ignerence of perlite society by actin’ upish and jealous as a cat.”

Whether this sound advice actually had its effect upon Mrs. Alexander, or whether she forgot her chagrin, it is hard to say; but at all events, she smiled sweetly upon the Chalmys the next time she met them.

A few days later, the steamer stopped at Dover and Mr. Ashby was delighted to have his wife and Ruth with him again.

They were several days out, when Mrs. Alexander realized that Count Chalmys was only an ordinary mortal! She thought over this revelation for a time, and finally remarked to Dodo and the others: “I am so glad the Count didn’t fall in love with Dodo. The little dear would never have been happy with him.”

“When did you discover that fact, Maggie?” asked her husband, quizzically.

“Why, a long time ago. I was so disgusted with folks who claim a title, and then turn out to be factory men like that Osgood family. And now this Count is nothing but a play-actor! Dodo will be far better off if she falls in love with a first-class American, say I!”

“Hurrah, Maggie! You’ve opened your eyes at last!” cried little Mr. Alexander.

“But you will be made still happier, Ma, to hear that I am in love, now!” declared Dodo, teasingly.

“What! Who is he?” demanded her mother.

“Ask Eleanor and Polly. They introduced me to my future lord,” giggled Dodo.

“Oh, she means her career, Mrs. Alex,” said Polly.

“Oh, Dodo!” wailed her mother. “You won’t go to work, will you, when your father’s worth a million dollars?”

“All the more reason for it! I’m going to marry a profession, just as Polly and Eleanor are, and we three are going to be the most famous decorators in the world.”

“And I am goin’ to build a swell mansion in New York and turn the contract for fixin’s, over to these three partners!” declared little Mr. Alexander.

That trip across the Atlantic was a merry one for the girls, for the “Marquis” and his friend, aided by the Count and the young Countess, were a never failing source of entertainment for all. They mimicked and acted, whenever occasion offered, so that there was no time for dull care or monotony.

While abroad, the Count had secured a small motion picture outfit; this was brought out and several amusing pictures made on the steamer. They were hastily developed and printed and shown at night, to the passengers. It proved to be very interesting to see one’s self on the screen, acting and looking so very differently than one imagines himself to act and look.

After the second attempt at this form of amusement, Polly made a suggestion.

“Wouldn’t it be heaps of fun if each one of us were to go away, alone, and write a chapter of a story for the Count to film. It will be a regular hodge-podge!”

“Oh, that’s great!” exclaimed Eleanor, eagerly.

The others seemed to think it would be entertaining, too, so the Count gave them a few important advices to note.

“Let us decide upon the characters, the plot, and the place, of the scenario; then each one write out a condensed chapter, or reel, of the play. Follow these directions. Write your story in continuity; leave out all adjectives, but give us action as expressed by verbs; do not write more than two hundred words in a reel, or chapter. If you find you have more than that in your part of the programme, you’ll have to cut it down. And let each one remember to keep her personal work a profound secret. That will insure a surprise when the whole picture is reeled off.

“Now, Miss Polly, you start the scenario, will you, and give us the first act, or reel. Then Miss Nolla will do the second act, or reel; Miss Ruth, the third; Miss Dodo, the fourth, Miss Fabian the fifth, and my wife can wind up the play, or picture, by writing the final reel. Any questions?”

“Who are the characters?” asked Polly, laughingly.

“Why, ourselves, of course. Because we must act in the photoplay, you see, in lieu of other performers. For instance, we will choose Miss Polly as the star lead, Janet Schuyler, in the play; Miss Nolla will be the vamp, Lois Miller, who is jealous of the lovely and prominent society girl; Miss Dodo will be the reporter, Miss Johnson, on a big daily paper who writes up the story for her paper; Miss Ruth can be the hard-working shop-girl, Esther Brown, who is made a scapegoat in the case. Miss Nancy could be the head of the department in the store, Miss Buskin, to whom the trouble is referred for adjustment; Alec will be the floor-walker and the Marquis can be the young man Reginald Deane—unless Miss Polly is too particular about her beaux.”

This brought forth a laugh at Polly’s expense.

“Mr. Ashby ought to make a good father for the society girl, and Mr. Alexander will make a good man to adjust the lighting apparatus. I will need the artistic help of Mr. Fabian in directing the scenes while I have charge of the camera. Now, any more questions, before you go away to start your writing?”

The Count was greatly interested in this plan for fun and, finding there were too many questions instantly poured out for him to answer, he made a suggestion.

“Each one go and do the best you can, then come to me if you find any snags too hard to remove from your literary pathway. I will have to go over each reel, anyway, when the whole is done.”

For the rest of that morning, no one saw nor heard of either of the young people, but at luncheon, there was such a babel of voices that Mr. Fabian rapped upon the table and called all to order.

“Hear, hear! The camera-man wishes to say a word!” laughed the Count.

There was instant silence.

“I have been handed three chapters of the scenario and I wish to say, if the other three are as good as the first ones, we will have a thriller. In the words of the publicity man, we shall produce a ‘gripping, heart-melting drama of unprecedented greatness and magnificence.’ For quintessence of perfection in pictures, this latest production of ours promises to ‘skin ’em’ all to the bone.’ Fellow-craftsmen! Go back to your work as soon as this bit of sustenance for the inner man is over, and dream of the success your pen is bound to win!—the glory and honor about to rest upon your noble brows for achieving such a great thing as the breathless, throbbing, soul-moving, passionate story of ‘Gladys the Shop-Girl’!”

The amateur play-wrights laughed merrily at their manager’s comment upon their dramatic work, but they lost no time in gossiping at the table, that noon. Before the dessert had been served, the girls excused themselves and ran back to their work.

That evening all efforts were in Count Chalmys’ hands and he was besieged for a report on the progress of the drama. He sent out word that he was to be left absolutely in peace for an hour and then he would appear with the hinged together chapters of a six-reel play.

After dinner, that night, a curious and impatient group of authors sat in one of the smaller saloons, watching the Count assemble the pages of the scenario. He had actually typed them on his folding typewriter and now came across the room, smiling encouragingly upon his company.

“Well, we haven’t such a tame play as everyone thought we would be sure to produce. All told, you will find the six reels fit in pretty good, one to the other, in continuity, but I shall have to exchange the chapters by Nolla and Dodo, as to priority. ‘Now listen, my children, and you shall hear’ etc.—you know the rest!” The Count laughed as he sat down.

“A-hem!” he cleared his throat as a starter. “The name of the play has been suggested by six writers, so I will have to have the title chosen by vote. A closed poll, probably, to avoid the usual fight in politics. First title:

“‘Life’s Thorny Road.’ This was submitted by Ruth Ashby.

“‘The Great Secret,’ is the second title, given by Nolla.

“‘His Easy Conquest,’ is third, submitted by Rose Chalmys.

“‘Her Friend’s Husband,’ is one suggested by Dodo Alexander.

“‘Greatest Thing on Earth,’ is given us by Nancy Fabian.

“‘Just a Nobody,’ is the one suggested by Polly Brewster. Now, friends, which of these titles do you think will draw the largest crowds and make the production a certain success,—financially, of course. That is all the corporations care about, you know.”

Count Chalmys smiled as he noted the faces in the semi-circle about him. Then Mr. Fabian spoke.

“Will you have to take a vote on that? I believe we can decide the question without going to all the trouble of having a box and officers to guard the voting.”

“How many are in favor of voting by a standing vote?” called the Count. Every hand went up.

“All right. Now, then, when I call off the different titles as they come in order, those in favor of said title please rise and remain standing until we can count.”

The suggestion of there being any work attached to the counting of one or two voters caused a ripple of merriment from the small group.

“How many favor title one, ‘Life’s Thorny Road’?”

Mr. and Mrs. Ashby stood up. Not even Ruth favored her own work but her doting parents did. This caused a general laugh at their expense and so they seated themselves, again.

“Who favors the second, ‘The Great Secret’?” asked the amateur manager.

Nolla had faith in herself, and so had Polly. But two votes could not carry the day, and they sat down again.

“Well, how about ‘His Easy Conquest’? Who wants that?”

No one stood up at this title, and every one laughed at the Countess; she laughed more merrily than the others.

“Next comes, ‘Her Friend’s Husband’—by Dodo Alexander.”

Dodo’s father and Polly voted for this title, but they were over-ruled by the others.

“‘Greatest Thing on Earth,’ by Miss Fabian—how about that?”

No one stirred at that invitation to vote, and the Count laughingly remarked, “Your talent is not appreciated, Miss Fabian.

“This is the last one, friends, and we have not yet had a majority of voters decide upon one of the others so you must be waiting for this one! Now, who wants ‘Just a Nobody’?”

At this, everyone but Polly stood up, and without further ado the manager acclaimed Polly’s title as the prize-winner.

“All right, then; the photo-drama about to be played will be called ‘Just a Nobody,’ title by Miss Polly Brewster; directed by Professor Fabian; assisted by Mr. Alexander; Camera-man, Chalmys, etc., etc.”

The very select audience laughed at the Count’s mimicry of all the first-snaps of a feature play, in which every one is mentioned, even the pet cat or canary which stood near when the reels were run off.

“Now for the gist of this whole thing—the story. I will open the picture by reading from Polly Brewster’s chapter.

“‘Janet Schuyler was a regulation young debutante in New York’s social circle—snobbish, arrogant, vain. Young admirer worth millions, not in love with her, but nearing that fatal crisis. Janet’s mother, usual social aspirant for daughter,—father reverse of such qualities. Scene in large department store, Janet accuses meek young saleswoman of taking her purse which had been placed on counter a moment before. Girl, frightened, denies the charge. Mrs. Schuyler creates scene—buyer of the department hurries to scene to defend girl. Mrs. S— demands floor-walker to take girl to dressing room and search her for purse. Being prominent charge-customer, Mrs S— has her way, and weeping Esther is forced to small sideroom to be ignominiously disrobed and carefully searched.

“‘At counter young vamp who stood near Janet Schuyler, leaves hurriedly and is about to make for the door when a bright-looking young woman placed detaining hand upon her arm. Vamp is persuaded to step to a corner of the store and answer questions, because she mistook woman for private store detective. Young woman, who is a reporter, takes notes of moment, then says peremptorily: ‘Hand over that purse or you’ll get more than you want!’ Vamp registers personal affront! Acts indignant. Reporter laughs, insists upon having purse. Vamp angry, threatens the law if she is detained. Reporter now ill at ease and lets vamp go. Hurries back to counter where Esther arrives, followed by gesticulating accuser and her daughter. Floor-walker promises to search further but insists that accused girl was innocent of the theft.

“‘Mrs. S— and daughter turn to leave store when reporter accosts them and hands them her card. Says she will write up this negligence of the authorities in a high-class shop. Mrs. S— decides to punish the firm for their carelessness and tells the reporter what she believes to be the truth—purse was stolen by girl.

“‘Miss Johnson, the young reporter, knows better than this, but assents with lady. She determines to have a talk with Esther and find out whether, or no, she saw the beaded purse claimed to have been stolen.

“‘Esther tells how Miss S— fumbled over many boxes of lace and then said to her mother: ‘Wait here—I’ll go across to the opposite counter and look at that net before I decide.’ Then the society girl turned her back and stooped over the display of net and beaded trimming. No clerk was near to wait on her, and the girl at the lace-counter was called upon to serve another customer, and that kept her from watching Janet Schuyler.’”

This ended Polly’s allotment of words in the scenario, and then the Count announced, “I will proceed to read Dodo’s story because it fits in here better than elsewhere in the script.

“‘Pretty little shop-girl, while waiting for customer, has visions of comfortable home back on the farm. (Show scene of girl in rural life, walking home from district school-house with handsome lad of fourteen—evidently admirer.) Esther sighs, as she remembers the day Reggie’s father moved from the village to go to Texas to raise cattle. She had never heard again from Reggie, and believes he has forgotten her entirely.

“‘Then comes Mrs. Schuyler and her daughter to look at laces. Esther overhears society girl plan dress for conquest of young man, then hears mother mention name of Deane—and tells daughter she must capture such a prize as the heir to his father’s millions in oil-lands of the South-west. Esther, excited, is about to ask the two haughty ladies for Reginald Deane’s city address, when the floor-walker frowns upon her and thus ends her attempt to secure the desired information.

“‘A young lady, waiting for her turn, watches the two rich customers and when they have gone she speaks to the shop-girl. ‘Who are they?’ Esther explains by showing name of charge account and address. ‘Well, I have my own opinion of them. I think they are nobodies, if you ask me. I’ve seen so many climbers that I can spot them at once.’

“‘This opens a pleasant chat between the girl and the young journalist, Esther speaking of Reginald Deane, and Miss Johnson giving Esther her card and asking her to come in some evening when she has nothing better to do. Esther promises and watches while Miss Johnson leaves.

“‘That evening, in her meagre little room, Esther takes up the card again, and dreams of an evening in the near future when she shall meet the pleasant young woman, again.

“‘Few days later—Esther receives invitation to small party at Miss Johnson’s bachelor apartment, and is duly elated over the event. Dresses in her best frock, which is simple voile, home-made, and starts out. Miss Johnson has two other young women and four young men present, when Esther arrives and is introduced. One of the men gazes intently at her, during the evening, then whispers to his hostess, ‘That girl reminds me of someone I know or have seen, and I can’t place her.’ Miss Johnson gives him Esther’s history, and he exclaims ‘That’s it! She’s the school-girl my friend talks about—he has a picture of her taken years ago when he lived in the country.’

“‘Miss Johnson calls to Esther and tells her the news and the girl is thrilled at hearing where she can find Reginald, and then the young man promises to bring him soon, to see Esther. Esther walks home with William Stratford that night, talking of nothing but Reggie and their schooldays. But she is not aware of Reggie’s inheritance of millions of dollars’ worth of oil-wells.’

“The third installment by Ruth Ashby, works in here, all right, so I will read it,” announced the Count, and continued his reading.

“‘Miss Schuyler was giving a ball. Her new evening costume had not yet arrived from the exclusive importers on Fifth Avenue and she was storming around the house, driving everyone insane with her complaints against the Frenchman.

“‘The doorbell rang, Miss S— waited in the front hall to see if it might be a messenger with the gown. When she spied a meek little face peering over the great box, she called insolently, ‘Bring her right in here, James. I want to give her a piece of my mind for dallying this way!’

“‘Frightened little Esther tip-toed across the rich rug and waited to be told to open the box and remove the gorgeous gown. She obeyed with trembling fingers, kneeling upon the floor in order to undo the knot of twine. As she did so, a young man entered the front door and was told that Miss Janet was in the small reception room. He started for that room without waiting to be announced.

“‘The moment Janet saw the much desired young heir of millions, standing in the doorway, she hastily commanded the girl to stop removing the gown, for she did not wish to have her caller see the dress before the proper time that evening.

“‘Janet Schuyler went forward to speak to the young man and Esther sat back to rest and see who had interrupted the scene between herself and the society girl. She was astounded to find that the young man was no other than her old school-mate, Reginald Deane, whom she had not heard of since they were children at school.

“‘The moment Reginald recognized Esther, he ran forward and showed how delighted he was to meet her once more. He paid no heed to her shabby dress or meek behavior, but turned to introduce her to his young hostess. When he saw the expression of scorn and hauteur on Janet’s face he realized that she was not the sort of a girl he cared to have for a wife, so he helped Esther to her feet and said politely to Janet, ‘I will bid you good-afternoon, as I now have to escort my dear old friend to her home.’

“‘Then the two went out leaving the haughty miss in a fury.’”

As the Count ended Ruth’s chapter, there were smiles on the faces of the audience, for it sounded exactly like Ruth—a genuine Cinderella Chapter.

“Now I will read the next installment, written by Miss Fabian. I shall have to edit more of this chapter in order to hinge it on to the preceding one,” explained the Count.

“‘Lois Miller was not a vamp by choice but by force of circumstances. She was so pretty that she had found it difficult to secure a position as saleslady in a store, for the reason that the other girls generally got jealous of the attention paid her. When she was offered a minor part in a Chorus on the stage, she accepted, although the salary was no more than enough to pay her room rent and scanty meals. For clothes to keep up appearances she had to rely on her wit and ability to make over things.

“‘By chance, she happened to be in the large store just when Janet Schuyler and her mother were shopping there. Then she overheard Mrs. Schuyler command the little saleslady, Esther Brown, to send the lace for her daughter’s evening gown with special messenger. The address was given, and the two society ladies left the shop. Lois really had nothing to buy but she was killing time in the shops, hoping to gain some information that might give her a chance to earn some extra money.

“‘She pondered over the name and address of the obviously rich ladies, then decided to try for a position, as companion, because the wretched life of an underpaid chorus girl was palling on her. As she turned to leave the shop, she found a bright-eyed young woman watching her. Instantly she thought of the private detective, but she was innocent of crime and she gave back the look with interest added.

“‘As she went out she realized she was being followed, so she turned and said: Well, what do you want?’

“‘“Aren’t you Lois Miller? Used to be stenographer at the office of _The Earth_?” asked the woman.

“‘“Sure thing! But that was ages ago,” retorted Lois.

“‘“I knew you there. I was just breaking in. What are you doing, now, Lois? I’ve got something to unravel.”

“‘Before she knew it, Lois was commandeered to follow the shop-girl, Esther Brown, and find out all about her, as the reporter had heard of a reward of $500 offered for news of the girl described, who came from New Hampshire. Miss Johnson agreed to go fifty-fifty with Lois if the shop-girl turned out to be the one they were looking for.

“‘That is how Esther Brown met her rich husband and how Janet Schuyler lost a rich young admirer, and how Miss Johnson won not only the reward Reginald paid, but also had a fine story for her paper; and Lois Miller earned enough money to fit herself out in decent clothes and pay her arrears of room-rent and board.’

“Now comes the final reel, as written by Rose Chalmys,” said the Count, waiting until the merriment over the various phases of Janet and Esther’s reel life had subsided; then he continued:

“‘Janet Schuyler, being under heavy obligations to the shop-girl for having saved her life from the hold-up men in the park, remembered how she had snubbed the meek girl in the store, and had caused her to be reprimanded by the head of the department.

“‘“I want you to come home with me, and receive my mother’s thanks and my father’s reward for your bravery in defending me,” said Janet, finally.

“‘“I do not wish any reward for what I did, and your thanks are quite sufficient,” murmured Esther.

“‘The two girls walked along the street leading to the Schuyler home, however, and just before they reached the place, a sporty car drew up to the curb and stopped suddenly. A young man sprang out and ran over to greet Janet Schuyler. She was delighted to see Reginald Deane, after the long months he had been away from the city, but Deane could not take his eyes from Janet’s companion. It was her place to introduce the girl with her, yet she could not humble her pride to accept a salesgirl as her equal, and this she would do if she introduced her. Reginald ended the doubt.

“‘“Aren’t you Esther Brown?” And the girl smiled as she replied, “And you are Reggie Deane, aren’t you?”

“‘Janet was forgotten after that, for the two who had been beaus in schooldays and had never heard from each other since Deane went to Texas with his family, were so engrossed with each other.

“‘Janet made the best of a bad bargain and invited both the young people to her home, but Esther pleaded her lack of time, and Deane offered to see Esther to her home. Thus ended Janet’s dream of capturing the richest young oil-financier in the country.’“

The young authors considered their work to be par-excellence, but the adults in the audience forbore to render an opinion.

“Of course, I shall have to edit, somewhat, but I think we may look forward to having a very successful run of this picture,” announced the Count, very seriously. “One important item is fortunate for the company—that is, we need not have costly costumes, nor scenes of Court Life in Europe. Our little play is simple to stage and inexpensive in production.

“Now I will retire to the Studio and edit the scenario, but I wish all the actors to be on time at the casting room at ten o’clock, sharp, tomorrow. Besides the star leads, I may need extras, so I would suggest that any one desiring a part in this great melodrama, to report to me when we meet at the Studio.” The Count looked at the adults as he spoke, and they smilingly accepted the invitation to be on hand to act as supers, in case of need.

Well, the six-reel production went on apace, and on the last night of the voyage, the photo-drama was presented to a crowded salon. It had been suddenly decided to charge an entrance fee of a dollar each and devote the proceeds to charity. This detracted not a whit from the entertainment, but rather added to it.

Many a laugh echoed through that salon, at the pathetic scenes in the story, because of the amateur acting of the stars. In fact, the vamp was so full of mischief while playing the heart-stirring drama of her life when she was hungry and without a home, that the “pathos” acted upon the audience as if it had been comedy.

The “Marquis” as Reggie Deane, made not reel, but real, love to Esther Brown in the picture; so much so that Mr. Ashby felt relieved to think the two would never meet again, once the steamer landed at the New York dock.

So with bright plans for the future, Polly and her chums spent the last few hours on the steamer, and were ready for their “career” before they landed in New York City again.

THE END

AMY BELL MARLOWE’S BOOKS FOR GIRLS

Charming, Fresh and Original Stories

Illustrated. Wrappers printed in colors with individual design for each story

Miss Marlowe’s books for girls are somewhat of the type of Miss Alcott and also Mrs. Meade; but all are thoroughly up-to-date and wholly American in scene and action. Good, clean absorbing tales that all girls thoroughly enjoy.

THE OLDEST OF FOUR; Or, Natalie’s Way Out.

A sweet story of the struggles of a live girl to keep a family from want

THE GIRLS AT HILLCREST FARM; Or, The Secret of the Rocks.

Relating the trials of two girls who take boarders on an old farm.

A LITTLE MISS NOBODY; Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall.

Tells of a school girl who was literally a nobody until she solved the mystery of her identity.

THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH; Or, Alone in a Great City.

A ranch girl comes to New York to meet relatives she has never seen. Her adventures make unusually good reading.

WYN’S CAMPING DAYS; Or, The Outing of the GO-AHEAD CLUB.

A tale of happy days on the water and under canvas, with a touch of mystery and considerable excitement.

FRANCES OF THE RANGES; Or, The Old Ranchman’s Treasure.

A vivid picture of life on the great cattle ranges of the West

THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL; Or, Beth Baldwin’s Resolve.

This is one of the most entertaining stories centering about a girl’s school that has ever been written.

WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT.

The story of a young girl, cast up by the sea, and rescued by an old lighthouse keeper.

WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD.

Oriole visits the family of a rich ranchman and enjoys herself immensely.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

THE POLLY BREWSTER SERIES

By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY

Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers.

Every Volume Complete in Itself.

A delightful series for girls in which they will follow Polly and Eleanor through many interesting adventures and enjoyable trips.

Polly of Pebbly Pit

Tells about a Rocky Mountain ranch girl and her many adventures.

Polly and Eleanor

Eleanor Maynard visits Polly at the Ranch and they have lively times.

Polly in New York

Polly and Eleanor visit New York and have a number of very interesting experiences.

Polly and Her Friends Abroad

The girls go abroad and spend most of their time with other American travelers.

Polly’s Business Venture

Polly and Eleanor take up interior decorating. They attend sales of antiques and incidentally fall in love.

Polly’s Southern Cruise

A hurricane and cloud-burst threatens to swamp the vessel in which Polly and her friends take this trip.

Polly in South America

Polly and her friends land at many funny old towns and have several exciting adventures not altogether pleasant.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

CAROLYN WELLS BOOKS

May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap’s list

THE MARJORIE BOOKS

Happy Books For Happy Girls

Marjorie is a happy little girl of twelve, up to mischief, but full of goodness and sincerity. In her and her friends every girl reader will see much cf her own love of fun, play and adventure.

This series is the American Girl’s very own. Each book is attractively bound in cloth, and wrapped in a charming colored individual wrapper.

Marjorie’s Vacation Marjorie’s New Friend Marjorie’s Maytime Marjorie’s Busy Day Marjorie in Command Marjorie at Seacote

THE TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES

Miss Carolyn Wells here introduces Dorinda Fayre—a pretty blonde, sweet, serious, timid and a little slow, and Dorothy Rose—a sparkling brunette, quick, elf-like, high tempered, full of mischief and always getting into scrapes.

Two Little Women Two Little Women on a Holiday Two Little Women and Treasure House

THE DICK AND DOLLY BOOKS

Dick and Dolly are brother and sister, and their games, their pranks, their joys and sorrows, are told in a manner which makes the stories “really true” to young readers.

Dick and Dolly Dick and Dolly’s Adventures

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS

For Little Men and Women

By LAURA LEE HOPE

Author of “The Bunny Brown Series,” Etc.

Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding.

Every Volume Complete in Itself.

These books for boys and girls between the ages of three and ten stands among children and their parents of this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a source of keen delight to imaginative children everywhere.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE COUNTY FAIR THE BOBBSEY TWINS CAMPING OUT THE BOBBSEY TWINS AND BABY MAY

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES

By LAURA LEE HOPE

Author of the Popular “Bobbsey Twins” Books, Etc.

Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding.

Every Volume Complete in Itself.

These stories by the author of the “Bobbsey Twins” Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA’S FARM BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU’S CITY HOME BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODS BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOUR BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONY BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOW BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE SUNNY SOUTH BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE KEEPING STORE BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR TRICK DOG BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT A SUGAR CAMP

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York

THE MAKE-BELIEVE STORIES

(Trademark Registered.)

By LAURA LEE HOPE

Author of THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS, ETC.

Colored Wrappers and Illustrations by HARRY L. SMITH

In this fascinating line of books Miss Hope has the various toys come to life “when nobody is looking” and she puts them through a series of adventures as interesting as can possibly be imagined.

THE STORY OF A SAWDUST DOLL

How the toys held a party at the Toy Counter; how the Sawdust Doll was taken to the home of a nice little girl, and what happened to her there.

THE STORY OF A WHITE ROCKING HORSE

He was a bold charger and a man purchased him for his son’s birthday. Once the Horse had to go to the Toy Hospital, and my! what sights he saw there.

THE STORY OF A LAMB ON WHEELS

She was a dainty creature and a sailor bought her and took her to a little girl relative and she had a great time.

THE STORY OF A BOLD TIN SOLDIER

He was Captain of the Company and marched up and down in the store at night. Then he went to live with a little boy and had the time of his life.

THE STORY OF A CANDY RABBIT

He was continually in danger of losing his life by being eaten up. But he had plenty of fun, and often saw his many friends from the Toy Counter.

THE STORY OF A MONKEY ON A STICK

He was mighty lively and could do many tricks. The boy who owned him gave a show, and many of the Monkey’s friends were among the actors.

THE STORY OF A CALICO CLOWN

He was a truly comical chap and all the other toys loved him greatly.

THE STORY OF A NODDING DONKEY

He made happy the life of a little lame boy and did lots of other good deeds.

THE STORY OF A CHINA CAT

The China Cat had many adventures, but enjoyed herself most of the time.

THE STORY OF A PLUSH BEAR

This fellow came from the North Pole, stopped for a while at the toy store, and was then taken to the seashore by his little master.

THE STORY OF A STUFFED ELEPHANT

He was a wise looking animal and had a great variety of adventures.

Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York