Classic Audiobook Collection - The Mind The Paint Girl by Louis Tracy ~ Full Audiobook [comedy]

Episode Date: August 2, 2023

The Mind The Paint Girl by Louis Tracy audiobook. Genre: comedy In The 'Mind the Paint' Girl, Louis Tracy adapts Sir Arthur Wing Pinero's hit stage comedy into a glittering, behind-the-curtain tale of sudden fame and the price it demands. When Lily Upjohn escapes the London slums and lands a hard-won place in the chorus at the Pandora Theatre, she expects long rehearsals, small pay, and smaller respect. One mishap during practice - a splash of paint from a scene painter's scaffold - sparks a moment the show's composer turns into a catchy number, and Lily becomes the unexpected voice of a song that London cannot stop humming. Overnight, she is promoted from anonymous chorus girl to celebrated star, and the theater world that once ignored her now feeds on her every gesture. With success come dangerous admirers and conflicting promises: earnest Nicholas Jeyes offers devotion at any cost, while the polished Lord Francombe dangles wealth, status, and a place in society that Lily has only ever watched from afar. As managers, friends, and rivals pull at her loyalties, Lily must decide what she truly wants - and how much of herself she is willing to trade for applause. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:24:47) Chapter 02 (00:49:59) Chapter 03 (01:15:44) Chapter 04 (01:40:38) Chapter 05 (02:04:14) Chapter 06 (02:35:41) Chapter 07 (02:58:06) Chapter 08 (03:27:40) Chapter 09 (04:00:32) Chapter 10 (04:25:12) Chapter 11 (04:48:18) Chapter 12 (05:12:27) Chapter 13 (05:39:52) Chapter 14 (06:08:51) Chapter 15 (06:34:07) Chapter 16 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Mind the Paint Girl by Lewis Tracy. Chapter 1 A May Morning The music of the band came nearer. The cold streams were marching from Chelsea to relieve the grenadiers. Strollers in the park, loungers in Palmaal and St. James's Street seemed to quicken visibly under the lilt and rhythm of the lively air. A crowd, mostly drawn from the provinces and overseas, had to quicken. gathered already on the pavement, either beneath the wall of Marlborough House or on the south of

Palace Square, and even the case-hardened Cockneys, who happened to be passing, hurried to watch the daily pageant of guard mounting. The oncoming band acted on them as a magnet acts on steel filings. As it approached, each human atom became active. Two men, neither of whom had seen the other, turned out a parmal about the same moment, but on opposite sides of Marlborough Gate. The elder of the pair, unmistakably the type of retired soldier, which ranges from Colonel to Field Marshal, had just quitted a club in St James' street. If hair and moustache were white, his figure was trim and erect, and at the martial strains of the band, his shoulders unconsciously squared themselves,

and his face lost an expression of settled melancholy, singularly out of keeping with spruce attire and military bearing. The younger man, tall and strongly built, was a captain in a line battalion, but walked with the air and swing of a cavalry man. He came from Pau Mal and a casual glance at the sentry in front of Marlborough House in order to learn from the colour of the cockade and the arrangement of buttons on the scarlet tunic

what regiment had been on duty during the previous 24 hours cost him an opportunity of recognising an old friend. London gives or withholds such haphazard encounters with callous indifference. In ordinary conditions, these two might not have met a second time within the year, but now the band, with blood-stirring clash of brass and symbols, had wheeled out of the park into the Walpent Road,

and alert policemen were shepherding the onlookers into compact masses. Again, the band wheeled some staccato orders made themselves heard above the din of drums and instruments. The old guard's rifles clattered to the present. The new guard became two solid lines of black and red, faced to the left and moved in toward the square. Then the crowd broke, eager to gain. in a few yards close of view of the spectacle,

and this reshuffling of its units brought the two armymen side by side. Hello, Nico. Hello, Colonel. Their hands met with a ready clasp of friendship. My wife tells me you were in town. She saw you last night in the stalls at the Pandora, so we were expecting you to call, said the veteran.

Yes, of course, this afternoon, without fail, said Nicco Jays. Nicco to his intimates, but Captain Nicholas Jays of the North Devons to the wider world. The CEO gave me ten days' district leave, and I reached town from the currer yesterday, just in time to dress and eat before going to the theatre. Colonel, the Honourable Arthur, stood off, for all that he was a society man to the tips of his well-manacued fingers, had an incurable trick of allowing his face to betray his thoughts. A slight frown of bewilderment now chased away the smile which had welcomed Jays. "'Ten days in May!' he exclaimed.

"'I had a notion you were keen on soldiering, Nicco.' "'So I am, sir. Nobody more so. Yet even Napoleon kicked when he was sent from Paris to Ozone, and the currer is a deuce of a hole after Aldershot.' Stid off snorted disapproval. "'Put your proportion first, my boy, and a jolly long face. first before the Pandora Theatre and its frills, he said. You'll hardly believe it, knowing me as you do, but time was, when I would have jumped down my junior captain's throat

if he had asked for ten days' leave in the very height of the drill season. Sorry, Nicco. For the tired old eyes had detected a flush of embarrassment beneath the tan of his hearer's cheeks. That's a beastly inhospitable remark, and you know I don't mean it's in that sense. just for a moment I put myself in loco parentis. Perhaps Satan rebuking sin would be a better simile

because your father died in harness. Whereas I, well, here I am, tiptoeing among the mob to gaze at my own regiment. Dash it all! It's a fine morning. Let's talk of something else. Jays had his own reasons for falling in readily with a suggested change of topic. Most of the men here are new to me, he said.

Who is the Grenadier subalibald? with the colours. Oh, that's Farncom, nice boy, son of the Earl of Godalming. Why can't Farncom? Yes, lucky chap. Soldering has made easy for him. So it was for me, yet I had to chuck the service soon after I got command of the battalion. Then Jays could have bitten his tongue viciously, if that could have withdrawn the unhappy remark,

for it was an open secret that Stead off had been refused and, extension, sure preliminary to a district, had a major generalship, because he had married Dolly Ensor, a minor star of the Pandora Galaxy. The Honourable Mrs. Arthur stood off, might have averted the deadly effect of the Maiseliance, had she been sufficiently plastic to adapt herself to the ways and usages of society, but she was a good deal more of a Pandora girl after marriage than before. She regarded her rise in the social scale as justifying a loudness of manner which the stage manager had sternly repressed on the boards of the theatre, and, as the direct outcome, her husband was shelved professionally. Not that Mrs. Stead of, cared a jot.

Married to the brother of an earl, and fairly well provided with money, so long as she remained within the four walls of the law, she could not be ousted wholly from the sacred enclosures of the upper 10,000. Fully content, she tripped joyously through life, and the ex-colonel of the guards gained as Dolly Ensa's husband, a celebrity denied to his military career. In his confusion, the younger man could find nothing to say. As for Stidoff, he was gazing hungrily at the little group of officers who had now broken up into pairs and were strolling to and fro while sergeants and corporals marched reliefs to the various posts in the precincts of the palaces.

The band had become an orchestra, and the conductor, after submitting a programme to the senior captain, raised his baton. When Jays heard the opening bars of a selection, his face brightened. By Jove, Colonel, he said. These fellows are bang up to-day. they are playing the Duchess of Brixton, and it was only produced a week ago. The older man came back from his daydream.

Yes, he said, I was there. Mrs. Stidolph is an inveterate first-nighter, and rather a pretty opera. But while I don't pose as an expert in such things, it struck me as lacking the one song or the outstanding bit of acting, which usually supplies the clue to a musical comedy. "'Oh, I thought it was capital,' protested Jane's. His companion laughed, mirthously. "'You would,' he said.

"'You are young enough to watch the twirling feet of the pretty girls "'rather than pay heed to such trifles as plot and melody.' "'The rotten thing about the stage,' commented Jay's earnestly, "'is the way genuine talent is burked. "'I can't say how it is with the men, "'but where the girls are concerned, "'an actress depends far more. on having a pull with a manager, or with some city magnate who is financing the show.

Is that on real ability in her work? I have heard that said a great many times, Nicco, yet what little experience I have goes to prove the exact contrary. The managerial or financial pull, you speak of, will never succeed in filling the house. Grit and genius tell on the stage exactly as they command the prizes in every other profession. why, I could give you a list of names that would surprise you, and in every instance a woman has forced herself to the front by strenuous effort, backed up, of course, by a good voice and good looks. Look at, is he, governor?

Broke in a small man, with ginger hair and a bristling moustache, who had been striving vainly to catch the strains of the new opera. If you wouldn't mind? Then Colonel Stead off laughed quite cheerfully. "'I apologise, my friend,' he said. "'Doing anything, Nicko? "'Come to my club. We'll have a jaw and an early lunch.' "'Sorry. I have an appointment farther west.'

Jay's consulted his watch. "'I must take a cab,' he added. "'I had plenty of time to stroll, though, when I started, "'but I did not realise how the minutes were slipping along.' "'And the years? Don't forget the years. See you at tea? Yes, sir. Meanwhile, my best wishes to Mrs. Stodolph.

They parted. Carrot snudged his neighbour. Bloy me, he gurgled. He didn't catch his name the first time. An honourable he is. Dolly answers husband. Fancy me chipping the old cock like that. But he ain't so dead stuck on the stage, is he Charlie?

"'N I was a damn sight too much about it,' said Chorley, who was by way of being a philosopher. Jays was using no polite fiction when he spoke of taking a cab. He sees the first that presented itself, a handsome as it happened, the taxi-meter being just at the beginning of its triumphal descent on London, and told the driver to rush him to hide Park Corner. The hands of the clock over the lodgekeeper's house stood exactly at eleven as he sprang to the pavement and he hurried across the row with an air of urgency, fully explained by the cheerful impatience,

with which he was greeted by a pretty girl awaiting him near the statue of Achilles. Caught you tripping at last! You are late, Nicco! she cried. Only one minute! he protested, his somewhat heavy face brightening with joy at sight. of her. I met Colonel Stidolph, and I couldn't in decency hurry away, especially as he was lecturing me. What about? About me? No, Lily, thank God. He has never even heard your name. But, Nicco, why so serious? Why should you offer up thanks because I am a misnobody of nowhere whom no one ever even heard of, as you say? Evidently the two were bent on some more definite object than a mere stroll in the park, for they had turned in the direction of Stanhope Gate,

without any discussion as to the route they should follow. The girl, tall, slim and quietly attired, moved with an easy, supple elegance. She was young, not yet twenty, and youth is naturally graceful, but the expert eye would determine at a glance that she was a dancer, and in all probability an uncommonly good one. A blue serge costume, neat gloves and boots, and a hat by no means flamboyant in style or size, showed that Miss Lily Paradal, though only a Corifay in the Pandora Theatre, did not share the average taste of her class for bizarre garments. Despite her youth, she had graduated in the hard academy of pantomime and music hall, and her companion's fervour with regard to her professional insignificance was hardly justified,

since it was no small achievement that she should have won her way already through the most closely guarded stage door in London. The rounded brows over the big earnest eyes she had raised to her escort's face showed that she was surprised, perhaps a trifle resentful of his tone, and a slight wave of colour heightened and glorified her somewhat pale cheeks. Always pretty, Lily Paradal had suddenly become beautiful. And had Captain Jay's been more finely observant, he might have made the delightful discovery

that a bright intelligence was her greatest charm, but he could only feel that he had somehow struck a false note, and he hastened to correct the blunder. I didn't mean that, Lily! and you are merely teasing me by pretending that you think otherwise, he said. In fact, poor old Stidolf's remarks ran in a precisely contrary sense. I was grumbling about the difficulty, a really smart girl encounters in making a start in raising herself above the common level, that is,

but he stuck out that the stage does really offer La Carriere Auvert O Talent. How are you getting on with your French? Well, enough to understand that, she said gleefully. And your friend is right, Nicco. Not that he, let me see. Didn't he marry Dolly Enser? Yes.

Why do you say yes in that way? Because the Honourable Arthur used to be such a smart chap in my time at Sandhurst, and now he's a back number. He should have done more with his life than simply bury a woman who happened to be a bit of a silly. Why didn't he make a career for himself? Happily Jays had tact enough to check the imminent explanation. He rather lost touch with soldiering, I fancy, he said.

But the girl's sharp ears had caught the pause, the careful weighing of the reply before it was uttered. Was it because he married an actress? she demanded quickly. Good gracious, no, there's no bar to social progress nowadays. some mischievous thought danced in the girl's eyes which continued to search her friend's sunburned face inquisitively lots of our high-kickers marry lords which is a cut above her honourable i suppose she seemed to be musing aloud but there was no uncertainty in the succeeding question which was very much to the point nicco what would you say if i made a hit and all the giddy young gadders about town began chasing me "'May I smoke?' said Chase. "'Yes, but answer me.'

"'I would be pleased, of course, and frantically jealous. "'Equally, of course. "'Now, let's chuck problems and admire the flowers. "'We cross here. "'The beds begin at the other side of Stanhope Gate. "'Nico, I'm serious. "'As to the hit, at any rate, "'I have been given my chance.'

"'What do you mean? "'Has that silly little ass, Lionel Groper, "'bein' The stalwart captain's voice had grown harsh. He knew that this charming girl was flirting with him innocently, leading him on, and he hated himself for the miserable truckling to convention, which held him back from the supreme step of asking her to be his wife. Please don't call Uncle Lall rude names, said Lily. Though the tremendous news which she could no longer retain choked down the resentment she would certainly. have expressed at any other time. The ill-tempered reference to Roper was quite unwarranted, since he had proved to be a real friend to herself and her mother. I'm thoroughly in earnest. Morrie Kooling, our business manager, you know, was growling the other night about the lack of

go in the Duchess of Brixton, and Vincent Bland, the composer, he really is a duck. All the girls love him. Remembered that I sang a little ballad rather well one night. in the Canterbury, and, what do you think? He has written me a song, full stage, with chorus. I'm rehearsing it today for the first time, and I really do believe it will catch on. The concluding words rose in a crescendo of excitement, and for once she was blind the scowl on her cabanion's face. Matters had come to that pitch. He was furiously resentful of any influence that might lift Lily Paradel into prominence, lest his own dog-in-the-manger policy should be endangered. But he had the sense and good breeding to conceal his feelings for the hour.

By Joe, I congratulate you, Lil. He managed to stammer. Is it a decent sort of song? What's the air like? Oh, it goes with a splendid swing, and it has such a jolly catchword. I'm supposed to be the mind the paint. Girl, this is the chorus of the first verse. Mind the paint, mind the paint, no matter whether maple's bills are settled or they ain't,

once you smear it or you scratch it, it's impossible to match it, so take care, please, of the paint, off the paint. Isn't it great? Can't you hear it on the barrel organs? If only I work it up as I think I can, it will go through town like the flu. Jays pulled her out of the way of a noiseless electric Brougham. In her enthusiasm, Lily had forgotten her surroundings.

Though she was only humming a refrain, her artist's eyes were gazing at a dim and crowded house beyond the footlights. She heard the subdued strains of the orchestra. She watched the conductor's uplifted baton. This was her opportunity, and she must seize it with both hands now. The motor stole past with silence. at speed. It had crept too near and might have knocked her down but for Jay's prompt help. Yet, Lily Paradale was still seeing visions, and being a vivacious young lady, she laughed at the

careless chauffeur. "'Mind the paint!' she cried, and a bewiskered face, crowned by a silk hat, was framed for an instant in the Brahms window. "'Oh, dear!' she sighed. "'Now I've gone and done it. That was cult. and smith, whatever will he think of me? To her, the manager of the Pandora Theatre was a tremendous deity, thrown high on some peak of the Thespian Olympus. In reality, he was a shrewd and cautious judge of public taste in musical comedy, and he was thinking that if the girl would only throw as much animation into the new song

on stages she had displayed in the park, The Duchess of Brixton was safe for a hundred nights at least. See what it is to have a steady-going chap like me handy, said Jays. If I hadn't been just in the right place, you would have been run over. Nor would I have been singing and generally playing the giddy-goat in Hyde Park. Still, I'm awfully obliged to you, Nicco, dear. You know you come first all the time, no matter what the future may have in store. She flashed a look at him.

and such a wealth of tender kindliness poured from her deep blue eyes that his brain reeled. He could not guess, Lily herself could not have told him, that friendship rather than love inspired that thrilling glance. Youth, abounding vitality, the first glimpse of beckoning ambition, such was the formula of the magic elixir, coursing through her veins on that bright May morning. It rendered her her more than her, ever desirable. Given her favour, no man could resist her. And Nicholas Jays was a man, though neither

bright nor swift of nature. Least of all did he understand women, or he would have known that Lily Peridale was simply brimming over with high spirits in good nature. When she loved, she would die rather than offer her love. Yet it was a moment fraught with possibilities, a breathed word, a pressing pressure of the girl's arm and the divine spark might have reached the hidden store of passion in Lily's heart. Jay's gloved hands were clenched fiercely. He was on the verge of what he regarded as a social precipice, when an aristocratic dame, leading a Pekingese dog, met the two as they reached the path, and gave him a gracious nod of recognition. "'Who was that?' said Lily, in an under-turb.

turn. Lady Valatort, muttered Jays. Friend of yours? Yes, friend of my mother's, to be exact. She didn't forget to look me up and down. You know heaps of people like her, I suppose. Ought you to be walking with me here, Nico? Don't talk nonsense. Why shouldn't I walk with you here, or anywhere else? You might have said it was an honour conferred by me, dear boy, but you didn't, and you're right. I'm not in your set. that word set is the most detestable word in the english language there are others and we wouldn't use them if they had no meaning but we're not going to quarrel nicco because lady watts her name raised her eyebrows here are the flowers how perfectly beautiful now i can see what you meant when you said last evening that we londoners would call the gods to witness that there was nothing in the world to equal them if we saw such a display in paris yet we pass them by unnoticed in dear old foggy London,

but who christened them such awful names? Ah, here is something in my line. Don't touch, keep off the grass. Don't you see, it's another way of telling you to mind the paint. You'll be in town next Monday? Yes, how jolly, I shall feel more at home if I see you in the stalls, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and yelling for an encore.

Some girls packed the theatre on the first night of a new, song just to make it go. But I shan't. I couldn't, if I wanted to ever so. There's only you and Lall Roper and Bertie Fulkeson if he hasn't dined too well. Poo! Bertie Fulkeson, young idiot! Captain Nicholas Jays was himself again, and the North Devon's mess at the Currah was spared a a sensation. But Cupid, perhaps, stole away among the flowers and sulked, until some other youthful pair aroused his interest or sought his sympathy. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of the Mind the Paint Girl.

This is a Librivox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Adrian Stevens. The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy, Chapter 2. The New Star Although Jays was not rich, he was not poor, he had a fair private income in addition to his pay, he was well connected, the envied possessor of uncles and elderly relatives highly placed in the services,

in the war office and in other government departments. In a word, with that steady attention to work which our British variety of nepotism insists upon, he was certain to find the way of promotion made easy. nor was there any valid reason why he should not marry. With due economy, he and his wife could not only follow the beaten track of regimental life, but meander into some of its luxurious byways. It would have no difficulty about houses, furniture, a dog cart, the maintenance of a couple of polo ponies, or the purchase of a smart frock for Mrs. Jays when the GOC's garden party came round. To say the least of it, such conditions warrens. a young man in spending a joyous week in London during the height of the season. And yet, Jays would have been far happier had fate compelled him to endure the blistering ennui

of some sand-incircled cantonment in the Punjab. There he would perforce attend early morning parade, read and smoke or sleep after luncheon, curse the climate at decent intervals, whack a polo ball over an iron-bound maiden, play bridge or at the club and dine with twenty hard-bitten Britons like himself. Lily Paradale would have been six thousand miles away, and it was not in his nature to sigh after the impossible. But in London, her enchanting, distracting personality yielded odd half-hours of delight,

and filled the remainder of existence with a species of sullen despair. Not every morning, because rehearsals were exigent, but as often as she could spare her time, he met her by appointment. Whether permitting, they went to one or other of the parks. She would visit the zoo every day if he would take her, because she loved animals and had a way with her that conquered the doubting shyness of the creatures of the wild, or, if walking men to trudge through mud and rain,

they would drive to the National Gallery, South Kensington, the British Museum, the Wallace Collection. Jays hailed a dismal sky almost with delight, merely because of the educational value of those quiet strolls through galleries and exhibitions. He assured himself that someday he would defy convention and marry Lily Paradel, and he took a keen joy in the task of communicating to her now such scanty knowledge of the arts as he possessed. She was a willing listener, never bored or weary. She had a marvellous memory, forgot no thing. hint of the right way to pronounce foreign and classical names, ask for reasons and applied them correctly when tested over new ground. With it all, there was the pleasing consciousness that Lily looked up to him as a paragon of erudition. To justify her faith in him, he bought

booklets on Turner, on Correggio, on the Elgin Marbles, on the China of Bo and Chelsea and Meissen, and studied them privily in his bedroom at the club. Then, helped by a quick glance to catalogue, he would hold forth as to the atmospheric depth of Ulysses deriding polyphemus, or the exquisite glaze and colouring of a Dresden Shepardess, Ano-1760. In truth, he was teaching himself some of these things, and more than once the girl's innate taste, helped by an alert brain which remembered everything, caught him tripping.

nevertheless his manners and speech were different from lilies which still kept a touch of her humble beginnings and every night after the sweet intimacy of the homeward drive to mrs upjohn's apartments the lily paradel of the pandora theatre was lily upjohn in the kennington park road where she and her mother shared a bedroom and sitting-room en suite which in this instance meant folding doors he would leave the girl's humble abode with a shivering forebours of the day when it would be necessary that his mother should call there. Mrs. Jays, poor lady, little dreamed of the impending cataclysm. Daughter of a baronet and widow of a distinguished general, she was a good and charitable woman, beloved by all who knew her, but intensely proud of her birth and breeding. What would she say when she heard one of her sons marrying a Pandora girl? And what would she think when she met Mrs. Uptchon?

a typical cockney, without an H in her vocabulary, save in instances where it was superfluous. Indeed, would the two ever meet? Would not the shocked and anguished gentlewoman emphatically refused to stain her skirts with the dust of Kennington Park Road? It was no like problem that tortured the big, red-faced, well-groomed captain of North Dethans,

and there is little wonder that he shirked its solution. So he drifted helplessly through those scattered hours of happiness, and those long-drawn watches of the day and night, when care sat heavily on his shoulders, and thus lent himself to the greater folly of letting, I dare not, wait upon, I would. At last came the Monday when Lily Paradale would be made or marred in her profession.

It was a big thing for a girl still in her teens to be given a star turn in the leading theatre of London devoted to musical comedy. If she succeeded, she would leap at a bound to the front rank, if, by some mischance her song did not catch the public fancy, or if nervousness or excitement robbed her for the moment of her wittary of voice and manner, years might pass before another such splendid opportunity presented itself. In the one event, the number would simply be dropped

because Carlton Smyth was noted for a Napoleonic quickness of decision, In the other, were there not a score of girls in the chorus, capable of singing it well, and feverishly eager to prove their fitness? Jays had seen little of Lily during the past three days. Every spare minute on Friday and Saturday had been devoted to rehearsal. As for Sunday, Vincent Bland, the composer, to whose initiative her selection for the New Park was wholly due, insisted that she should remain in bed all day. Lily, of course, rebelled, but Bland belied his name by firm threats of the direst consequences if she disobeyed his orders. On the Monday, however, Jays broke the custom which permitted Lily to reach the theatre unaccompanied, and convoyed her thither in a cab. As they crossed Waterloo Bridge and the magnificent panorama of London, from St Paul's to the Houses of Parliament, spread its glories before their eyes. The girl turned impulsively to the man she regarded in a curiously impersonal way as her lover. "'Nicco,' she said, "'are you bringing anyone to the theatre tonight?'

"'Bringing anyone?' he repeated. "'Yes. Have you taken only one store?' "'I'm not exactly what you might call tiny, but I couldn't slop over into two,' he replied, "'vailing a vague uneasiness with clumsy humour. But you have a brother.' "'And a mother,' she persisted, "'why haven't you invited one or both to come with you? "'I know you would find it difficult to introduce me to your people. "'Oh, let me say what I want to say. "'Surely you and I can speak the truth to each other sometimes.

"'But to-night you might have told them that I was a friend "'that you were interested in my success.' "'He was so dumbfounded that he blurted out a more convincing answer "'than he could have contrived by using his wits. "'Honestly, Lil, I never thought, of it, he vowed. My mind has been running on you these last few days to the exclusion of everything else. It would have been quite an undertaking, too. My mother lives in Huntingdon, and Bob is up to his eyes on business. He and some other fellows are taking on a big tract of land

in Rhodesia, and they have heaps to do before they sail. For a little while there was silence. No heavy vehicles were near, and the jingle of bells on a group of handsoms or scampering toward the strand seemed to chime with the golden reverie of a summer evening. I suppose your mar doesn't even know you're in town, said Lily, suddenly. Jays loathed that word ma and hoped he had cured her of using it. If he had been better versed in the wayward heart of woman, he would have understood that the lapse was intentional, a verbal thrust at all snobbishness and class prejudice.

No, he said gruffly, I did not. tell my mother I had obtained short leave, because she would have expected me to give her at least one night at home, and I wanted every possible minute for you. Sons are mean in that way, but, at any rate, I try not to hurt her feelings. The girl's eyes were shining like sapphires, seeing nothing, they were gazing fixedly at some early diners in the Savoy restaurant, but her emotions bubbled forth without restraint. Dear Neko, is he grumpy? Is he grumphing you then? And isn't Lily Paradel, a horrid little wretch? It's nerves, Nicco, just nerves. I'm sitting here at your side, demure as a church mouse, to all appearances, but I'm really singing and

dancing, flinging myself madly around the stage, and our loty currents in, Tarara, boom, dear. Yes, I know it's stupid, and may be positively harmful, but I can't help it. It's in my blood. Even you men get it occasionally, don't you? When you gamble away a year's income on a game of cards, or join in a rush for some new goldfield, and I am gambling tonight. This is my toss of the dice. It's make or break with me at 9.15. Now there were a hundred ways in which a half-hysterical girl might be soothed by a man who loved her, but Captain Nicholas Jays did not adopt any of them.

You're frightened. That's what's the matter with you, he laughed. Only a case of blue funk. Every fellow gets it the first time he goes into action, but it vanishes when the bullets begin to sail past harmlessly. But it vanishes when the bullets begin to sail past harmlessly. But if having the stage to yourself means going into action, I got over that difficulty before I was 14, she said. Then she turned and looked at him, marking his stolid aspect.

You're a bit of a humbug yourself, Nico, she tittered. You have taught me heaps about pictures and statues and old furniture, but you really haven't got a glimmer of art in your soul. You're just a stiff, matter-of-fact, soldier man, and that's the best and the worst I can say of you. He was stirred to defend himself. You might add that I'm also your very loyal friend and well-wisher, he declared. Perhaps the girl was vouchsafed some glimpse of the mortal struggle raging within, which, in its way, gave a pathetic force to his colourless words. for she placed a hand impulsively on his arm.

I'm more certain of that, Nicco, than of carrying the house with me tonight, she said. And there was a tender note in her voice, which made divinest music in his ears. But here we are at the theatre. You'll wait for me, of course. A smart handsome, if I knock him. Otherwise, a four-wheeler with a broken-winded Gigi. Goodbye and good luck. She smiled dazzlingly from the stage door and was gone. He drove to his club, changed his clothes, ate a hearty meal, and was in his stall at the Pandora before the curtain rose.

He was familiar with all the songs and most of the lines of the Duchess of Brixton and soon discovered that author and composer had given Lily every reasonable chance of finding her feet before her own special item was reached. She had been promoted from the chorus to a definite character and had something to say now and then It was noticeable that her speaking voice filled the theatre And Jay's slight as was his knowledge of stagecraft Gasp the essential fact that the hard-won experience of the music hall

Was enabling her to make her personality felt without effort A printed slip attached the programme Announced that during the first act Miss Lily Paradal would sing a new song entitled, Mind the Paint, and the presence of a number of critics showed that the management was booming the change. As it happened, Jays had not inquired as to the particular incident in the story, which led up to Lily's effort, and the introductory symphony was so brief that he was almost surprised

when she bounded forward from the back of the stage and began to sing. She had not uttered a complete line before he knew that. that she was easily first in a cast, which included some of the most notable musical comedy actresses in London. Her fresh, pure voice had in it a joyous lilt which appealed to the audience from the opening note, and her light-hearted audacity gave point and significance to some commonplace lyrics. When she danced to the music of the chorus, that same rhythmic refrain which she had hummed in Hyde Park, It was as though some woodland nymph were rapturously displaying her delight in life, the ecstasy of youth, the half-shy, yet all-conquering sense of maiden sovereignty. Instantly, the house was on the quee vivay for the rising of a new star in the theatrical firmament.

The hush of expectation was succeeded by a low murmur of gratified discovery. A subtle sense of unanimity in approval spread throughout the crowded audience, and the thunderous applause that broke forth at the conclusion of the last verse was stilled, while the lithe graceful form was dancing, only to crash out in long sustained volume as Lily bowed herself breathlessly to the wings, darting one last vivid look at the place where she knew Jays was seated. The tumult could not be quieted, until the conductor's baton tapped sharply on the music stand,

and the orchestra played the symphony once more. Lily reappeared, smiling and self-possessed. She sang an encore without any sign of exhaustion, and when the chorus was reached, the gallery joined in. Mind the paint! Mind the paint! A girl is not a sinner, just because she's not a saint. But my heart shall hold you dearer, you may come a little nearer,

if you'll only mind the paint, mind the paint. The glance with which Lily rewarded her unknown friends among the gods was one of the many unrehearsed triumphs of the evening. When she danced again, she had the intoxicating eye-core of success in her veins. This time there was no restraint, no subconscious memory of stage directions and the studious posturings of her ballet master. She threw her very soul into motion.

Her dancing was the physical expression of an ecstatic spirit. And the House wanted more. Londoners, despite the opinion of their American cousins, are quick as any people in the world to recognise real talent, especially in the theatre, and this acutely critical audience realised that they were privileged to witness an event, which would be the talk of the town next day. But Lily neither sang nor danced again that evening,

Carlton Smyth, hidden in the corner of a box, had signalled a decision negative to the stage manager. For one thing, he did not wish to subject a valuable recruit to undue strain. For another, he was fully content with the sensational effort already secured. So the girl curtsied and laughed delightedly and waft kisses from her fingertips to the gallery, and when the orchestra increased the tension by replaying the chorus, the recipients of those kisses testified their appreciation thereby by howling lustily. Mind the paint, mind the paint, a girl is not a sinner just because she's not a saint. Such moments are rare, even in the lives of the gifted.

They are precious, even to genius. On the stage they are proclaimed aloud with trumpets. In the studio, in the laboratory, at the littered table of the writer, they come. in silence. But the artist and thinker quiver under their mighty influence, whether the glad peon is chanted by the voice of the multitude, or whispered in the soul's ear by some unseen and awful presence. As achievements rank, it was perhaps a trivial thing that a pretty girl should have shaken the Pandora Theatre from floor to ceiling by a pleasing performance of a song and dance, but Lily Paradale had climbed just a step beyond the high level of artistry imposed by the London stage.

Grace, harmony, charm of voice and movement, these were the essentials of her craft. She had superadded a haunting memory of beauty, a sense of unfettered and elusive youth, a new and fascinating variant of the eternal puzzle of femininity. So the patrons of the Pandora simmered with glee, because she had tickled their jaded appetites so unexpectedly, and grinned with merriment when the principal comedian gagged them back to the right humour by tripping the impressionable Duke of Brixton, whose instant and callow ardour inspired him to pursuit of the vanished attraction. No, you don't, strawberry, he cackled. This great metropolis wants that fairy yet a while, so keep off of it. Mind the pint.

Captain Nicholas Jays, after being carried away like the rest by general enthusiasm, recovered his wits in becoming aware of a certain blankness behind the footlights when Lily Paradil had disappeared, a quite natural feeling which was usurped by a highly disagreeable one. Within a space of five minutes or less, the girl he loved had reached the topmost rung of the ladder in her profession. With average good fortune and good health, she was now fairly established as a popular idol. Newspaper paragraphs, interviews, portraits, picture postcards, the clatter of clubs and society, aided and abetted by the solid claims of self-interest, which must sway the proprietor of the Pandora Theatre, would put her on a pinnacle from which she need not be dislodged for many a year.

King Demos had spoken and with no uncertain judgment. It was as though he, Nicco Jays, standing in front of his company on parade, had been suddenly promoted by his sovereign to command the Aldershot Division. Such a miracle could never happen to him, but its equivalent had happened to Lily Paradale. In very truth, he had obeyed Emerson's behest by hitching his wagon to a star and the notion had a soul-sickening addendum in the knowledge that he was a very plodding wagon to be attached to such a particularly bright and dazzling star.

Hardly realising what he was about, he rose from his seat, trod on several people's toes while making blindly for the stairs and earned a good deal of angry comment by interfering with one of the leading comedians' most excruciating jokes. angry, pleased, excited, dejected, at once gratified by the fact that none of these feather-brain fools in the audience could rob him of his intimacy with the girl they had so recently learnt to admire, and a flame with jealous dread, lest this night's ovation might prove the beginning of the end of his romance, he reached the foyer and gulped down a whiskey and soda. A hand fell heavily on his shoulder, and a guttural voice said,

He said, "'Ah, God, Nicke, you swile dat Lika, Steyn a-Pelchner!' He turned. A tall, fair-headed, faultlessly dressed German was at his elbow. "'Hello, Baron,' he said. "'You here, but of course you would be. You're one of the recognised Pandora boys.' "'Someone told me you have been here most nights last week, Nigel. "'But what do you think of the, you know, Jancer?

"'Isn't she libid?' "'Jays bestirred himself. It was imperative that von Rettemeyer, a highly popular attache at the German embassy and an inveterate gad about in society, should not have cause to quiz him. You mean Miss Paradol? He said. She is more than a new dancer. Why, man alive, she has proved herself the leading actress of them all. She is good, yes, superb, but there are others who don't get a yachts.

There's Enid Moncrief, for instance. Now, if Carl Don Smide... The voluble Baron checked himself sharply. His good-humoured face crinkled in a welcoming smile. Hello, Carlton, he cried. I hope you're pleased. Congratulations. Miss Baradale is a beach.

My dear Baron, said a stout little man, who had approached the bar in company with Carlton Smyth. You really shouldn't mix Americanisms with your English. I suppose you meant to employ. that Miss Peridale resembles a certain luscious fruit, whereas you tell us that she is a tree. I said a beach, not a peach, protested von Retton Meyer. Yes, that's the trouble. Why don't you carry a supply of jujubes? You're a bit of a cough drop yourself, lull, snickered the Baron, whose acquaintance with English slang was profound,

though his pronunciation might be faulty. The manager nodded to Jays, whom he knew slight. A bottle of 96 and half a dozen glasses, he said to the girl behind the bar. We're just going to drink Miss Paradale's health, he added, addressing the group collectively. Mind you, this is not for publication, but that song of hers was the one thing wanted. Souvenirs, 500 performance of the Duchess of Brixton, souvenirs a shilling each, photographs of Miss Lily Paradale and words and music of, mind the paint, complete in souvenir, one shilling, chanted Lionel Roper,

whose bald head was glistening after the excitement of seeing his pretty protege safely launched in the smooth waters of success. "'Five hundred, well I hope so,' said Smyth, watching the champagne creaming in the glasses. "'You're a pessimist, Carlton, an incurable pessimist,' spluttered the stout stockbroker. "'You know as well as I do that you've found the real thing. thing in Lily Paradale. Quite true, my boy, quite true. If only she wasn't so confoundedly attractive.

Con? Roper's white eyebrows rose to his bare scalp in speechless astonishment. Yes, I mean what I say. Every titled young ass in town. Suddenly the astute smith remembered that Jays was a privileged friend of the new star. Ah, well, he said. Here's to her anyhow. The glasses were lifted. but Jay is swallowed with the good wine a potion bitter as gall.

End of section 2. Chapter 3 of the Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Librivox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librivox.org. Recording by Adrian Stevens. The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy, chapter 3. Whisky and soda and champagne, in layers, are remarkable for their stimulating effect.

Jays shook off his gloom, he even talked cordially with Bertie Fulkeson, a pallid, languid youngster whose red-rimmed eyes and generally decrepit appearance suggested that he drank and smoked too much, and walked and ate too little. A plump, jovial-looking middle-aged man of marked Jewish appearance had laced. in with Fulkeson, and was hailed instantly by Roper as Sam. To the public at large he was known as Mr. Samuel de Castro, a dabbler in literature and the arts, but seeing that his output in these slave-driven occupations was nil, and that he always had plenty of money, which he spent freely as a patron of the lighter drama, it might be assumed

that certain whisperings that connected him with a noted firm of rag merchants were not wholly devoid of foundation. He spoke with a pronounced lisp, wore white waistcoats morning and evening, sported a gorgeous diamond interchangeable as a scarf pin and stud, and was popularly reputed to regret the fact that the white spats he affected during the day were not fashionable at night. He, it would seem, had heard of Lily Paradale for the first time that evening. Glad to thee you, lal, he said to the story. stockbroker, Bertie tells me you know the fair Lily. Won't you introduce me?

I suppose all her friends will be meeting her after the so. You must ask bland, dear boy. Vincent has kept us banning outsiders in the dark. You too, Carlton, you were just as bad. A regular conspiracy, I call it. But Miss Perradale ought to hear what we think about here. Let's get up a supper. come thou, Carlton, be a sport.

You can manage it. Just give the word, and I'll order a table at the cat in earth. No go, Sam, me boy, said Smyth cheerily. He was celebrated as the most genial refuser in the business. Vincent Bland is a regular martinet in these matters, kept the poor girl in bed all Sunday, I hear, actually set her mother to mount guard over her with an axe, or some other domestic implement.

And he's right, me boy, quite. right, he's too old a bird to allow his prized chick to crock with excitement? Jays decided to assert himself. He was flushed in face and husky of voice, and his gorge rose at hearing these men discuss his lily without any regard for his presence, as though he were a non-entity. Mr. Bland would certainly refuse to permit Miss Paradel to attend a supper party tonight, he said, and his strident tone held every year at once, but, if it's equally agreeable to all of you, why not lunch with me at Catanis tomorrow,

say one o'clock, sharp, and I'll bring Miss Paradale. No one answered for a second or two, until Roper recovered his wits. Right you are, Jays, he cried. You took the words out of my mouth, but youth will be served, eh? What? My little festivity can stand over till you,

you're playing marbles on the currer. Jay's glanced round. How many of us? Six? Miss Paradale will invite a few friends from the theatre. Call it a round dozen. May I send her a note, Mr. Smyth. And would you let me use your telephone? I usually take her home in a handsome,

but tonight's blaze of glory calls for a brown. The manager cast a contemplative eye over him. Certainly. He said. Come along, you'll find all the resources of civilization in my room. Huth the lordly Perthun, demanded De Castro when the two had gone. Name of Jays, Nicco Jays, in the North Dethens, explained Roper briefly. Notwithstanding his prompt acceptance of the morrow's invitation,

he was annoyed by the young man's heir of proprietorship, where Lily Peridale was concerned, and was rather inclined to resent it. "'Is he the accepted candidate?' "'Purred De Castro, "'who like nothing better than a chance of stroking his friend's fur the wrong way. "'Not he? He'd like to be, that's all.' "'He's a bit of a wet blanket, his poor nigo,' grinned von Rattanmeier. "'Let the pretty lily once get her head free,

"'and it had up with nigo.' "'For the Lord's sake, Baron, have another, glass of bubbly and clear your throat, growled Roper irritably. No wine left, four whiskers and sodas, please, miss, said Fulkeson. He, he, giggled DeCastra. You do come to the point quickly, Bertie. Drawing is dry work, drawled Fulkeson, and some people I could name seem to have lost their tempers. Why was Niccoe in such a rat? He looked as if he wanted to love. lick somebody. Meanwhile, Smyth led Jay's along a corridor and turned the handle of a door

cunningly concealed in a mass of white and gold molding. "'Here you are,' he said, switching on the electric lights. Right at my desk, while you're about it, shall I ring up the coupé, people?' "'It's awfully good of you,' said Jays. Smyth visited himself at the telephone, but his gaze dwelt on the face of the man seated at the table. In stature he was. He was a little. He was afture, he was fully as tall as Jays, though he lacked the physical development of drill and an open-air life. His hair might have been grey had it been permitted to follow its natural bent. But his neatly trimmed Van Dyke beard was still silky in texture and light brown in colour.

The instincts of the older crop were checked, though not so obtrusively as to attract attention. For the rest he was a good-looking person, with a nose inclining to length and thinness, and long practice had given him the most amiable and non-committal smile in London. By the time the Bram was arranged for, 1115, to ask for Captain Jays at the stage door of the Pandora Theatre, the note was finished. I am very much obliged, began Jay's standing up. I'll send that round in a few minutes. Miss Paradil is off soon after the curtain rises, said Smyth pleasantly. By the way, you must be an old friend of.

of hers? Yes. Oh, yes. As age goes in friendship with a girl under 20. Is she so young? Well, she looks at she has a career before her Captain Jay's. I hope you don't mind me saying it, but it would be a pity if anything interfered with her prospects in the near future. Marriage, for instance, would be a real calamity, not only to the play going public, but to herself. If Carlton Smyth had taken part in his own productions, he could never have a voice. it being cast for a kind, good husband or a genial uncle. His smooth voice and sympathetic smile took away any semblance of sting, or even of undue inquisitiveness, from such a mark as that which he had just uttered.

Jays, to his own subsequent surprise, did not resent it in the slightest degree. Much as I admire your theatre, Mr. Smythe, he said, I can hardly agree with you that Lily, Miss Paradale, might not be happy. if she abandoned it. You're mistaken, dear boy, quite mistaken, I assure you. If we were discussing women generally, I would agree with you to the utmost, but it is otherwise with the born actress, especially when she has, so to speak, been reared in the profession.

To deny Ms. Peridale the exercise of her art, now that she has shown what is in her, would be a crime. And, as some diplomat put it, worse than a crime, a plunder. don't you see what would happen? She would always be grieving over a lost opportunity. Every time she sang a little song or mimic some celebrity in her own home, people would say, Dear me, Mrs. So-and-so, I wonder you didn't go on the stage.

Or, if they knew something of her history, why did you ever leave the Pandora after making such a decided hit? Do you think that sort of thing conduces to steady running in double harness? No, sir, it doesn't. It's as bad as bearing rain, a constant source of annoyance. Mind you, I'm speaking of the artistic temperament, which doesn't find its outlet in making jam and fixing frocks for the kiddies out of paper pattins at sixpence half any a time.

Oddly enough, Jay's experienced an unfathomable sense of satisfaction on hearing these words of wisdom from the lips of one so fully qualified to utter them. They counseled delay And the necessity for delay Had been worrying him Ever since he first formed the opinion That Lily Paradal was the one girl in the world He wanted to marry

I'm glad I've had this chat with you He said I make no secret of the fact That I mean to That I hope to have the honour of asking Lily To be my wife One of these days But not yet

I must see my way a little clearer You understand Mr Smyth there are difficulties for an army man, and I'm keen on making Lily happy when I do provide a home for her. Carlton Smy's eyes twinkled, no doubt with heartfelt appreciation of such excellent sentiments. Exactly, he said, in a year or two you will have laid your plans. By that time, Miss Paradale will have established her fame, and no matter whether she remains on the stage or leaves it, she will at least be rid of the canker of what might have been which like a boil breaks out in unexpected places well shall i see you to your note the curtain is up it occurred to jay's some months later that the astute manager of the pandora theatre had contrived to humbug him rather neatly for the moment he was quite grateful to this kindly mentor who had helped to dissipate some of his qualms

He was late in reaching his stall and earned further unpopularity. But that did not trouble him because his thoughts were completely absorbed by his own affairs. Indeed, Nicholas Jays was somewhat of an egoist. With him, impartial judgment meant the point of view which best suited his own ends and now that he had seen the folly of attempting to dash to the ground

the brimming cup just lifted to Lily Paradar's lips. There was a most admirable reason for postponing the crisis which an open engagement would surely bring about. Of course, the average young man in love does not reason in that cold-blooded way, but Jays was not an average young man. He was a highly efficient officer in his majesty's service, and, although indubitably in love, he thought it wise not to sacrifice his career.

for the sake of a wife just yet. He was the sort of man who might blame the girl if his calculations did not accord with the facts. He might even try to force the facts to fit in with his calculations. But the gods are merciful to mankind in one respect.

They veil the future in impenetrable mists. And if Jays was content with the present outlook, the gods were content to leave him so. Lily was delayed that night. When she did at last appear through the stage door, she was accompanied by a number of girls, all talking at once. For the hour, at any rate, her friends in the profession were devoid of the least envy, and honestly rejoicing in the success of one of themselves.

The goddess of fortune had smiled on Lily Paradal today. It might be the turn of Gabs, or Enid, or Nita, or Flo, next week. Scraps of eager talk, which reached the waiting Jays, were, illuminating. My dear, you should have seen Eva Shafto watching you from the prompt side, if a look could have slain. Obviously Eva Shafto was the leading lady. Oh, Eva's all right.

Sir George's motor was waiting for her. Vincent was delighted. You can always tell when he's pleased, because he sticks his thumbs in his waistcoat and stands with his feet wide apart. And look, Eirlo, don't be silly and take the first figure. Smyth offers you. Go to a good agent. It's worth paying the comp. I ought to hate you, but I don't. So the Baron and Smyth told him he was keeping me in mind. This from Enid Moncrief, a willowy beauty, rather impressive in style. Lili burst through the lively crowd. Oh, girls, you've all been so good to me, she cried. Ah, there's Niko. Is that brown for me? How sweet of you. Don't forget Katanis at one, everybody. Niko. i've made my half-dozen fourteen do you mind just this once then with your six will be a score a musical score girls i'm not so mad as i look if i can wrap out a new wees good-bye i can't kiss you all and my poor face is sticky with tears

Jays was about to follow her into the Bram when the stage-door attendant rushed out. He was carrying a lustrous bouquet of red and white carnations. Beg pardon, miss, he said. I was nearly forgetting this. My Shafto left it for you. A card pinned to a broad white ribbon bore the words. With love and hearty congratulations from Eva Shafto. How kind, how very kind, the girl almost.

sobbed, Gaps, you cat, she shrilled suddenly. Take back what you said about Eva Shafto. She sent me that ducky bouquet that was handed up to her after Star of Even tonight. Ass, growled Jays to himself. He had forgotten to provide some flowers on this, her great night. Were it not for the leading lady's graceful thought? Lily would have gone home, lacking the tiniest spray of the actresses' laurel. In Wellington Street, Jays extended a lover-like arm, meaning to encircle the girl's waist.

With a deft movement she alluded him. Not tonight, Nicco, she said. Please don't touch me tonight. Everybody in the theatre embraced me till I wanted to scream. Everybody? Well, the everybody of my small world. Men as well as women, I suppose. in a savage tone that made her laugh hysterically.

Then she began to talk strangely, wildly, with a curiously pathetic break in her voice at times. Shocking, wasn't it? But they meant well, the dears, and I hadn't the heart to say, Mind the paint, don't be angry, Nicco. I shall hold you all the dearer if you don't come any nearer.

There, you see, I'm still all of a whirl. I know I shall feel awful. tomorrow if the people applaud me when I begin to sing my song, but didn't it go beautifully? And you were shouting with the best of them. I actually heard your voice, even in that din. Nicco, shall I wake up in the morning and find that it was all a dream, and that poor Ma and I must still keep on paying twelve shillings a week for apartments in the Kennington Park Road? Apartments, with use of kitchen and lock up coal cellar and pop a penny in the slop when the gas goes out? Oh my, is that dingy prospect really vanishing out of our lives? Shall I own a decent salary and free my mother from the drudgery of cooking and scrubbing?

And mending? Shall I be able to buy her nice clothes? Poor thing, she picked up a cheap dress last October. It would be warm for the winter, she said, and only the other day she told me that summer was getting on so fast that she thought she would make her frock hold out to a nether. next spring. Good God. Nicco, the blue serge I'm wearing cost her this year's dress, because she can manage, whereas I have to be decently clothed. Do you know the meaning of the word

manage? You've taught me how to conjugate verbs, but that is a verb which is found only in the textbooks of the poor. I have managed. Thou shalt manage. He or she might, could, or should manage, on 35 bob a week and pay your own fares. Jays was suddenly gripped by a new emotion. Not being wholly a fool, he devoted himself to soothing her, to praising unstintingly, to promising fame and fortune. He told her of the nice things said by Carton Smyth, by DeCastro, by strangers in the audience, and when he bed her good night, he simply pressed her hand

and promised to call next day in good time for the luncheon party. He retired to rest, rather more easy in mind. When all was said and done, it was more seemly that he should marry a celebrity than a mere chorus girl, and any man would prefer that the woman he loved should be raised out of the penury

which constitutes London's gravest offence against its young and pretty girls. Then he fell asleep, and dreamed that Bertie Fulcerson had stabbed Sam de Castro with a large carving knife, giving us a reason that, he was tired of Sam's white waistcuts. The lunch at Catanis went off gaily,

though it travelled on lines not contemplated by the giver of the feast. Lily Paradal, of course, was its bright particular star, and Captain Nicholas Jays had the honour of paying the bill, but his part in the entertainment threatened to stop there. It was essentially a theatrical and bohemian gathering, and if Jays had lived 20 years in the Catier Latin, it may be doubted whether on the 20th anniversary he would have footed it in the right spirit at the Cat's Arts Ball.

Lily, brimming over with delight, praised the charming flowers which decked the table, and Sam de Castro commented on the excellence of the wine, but Jay's strive as he might, and did, felt that he was in this company and not of it, Once toward the close of the feast he struck invaliently "'Dash it all!' he cried. "'Except Lil and Lau Roper.

"'All of you call me Captain Jays. "'I won't stand it. "'My name is Nicco, and please don't forget it. "'Sorry, Bertie, I omitted you, "'but you are at the other end of the table.' "'And you too, Baron, even if you do call me Nigo. "'Enid, here's to that song Carlton Smyth has in mind for you. "'Vincent.

you write it and a jolly one too. Waiter, cried Falkerson, fill two glasses. I have a couple of toasts to honour. A laugh went around. Under cover of it, von Rettonmeyer whispered to Enid Moncrief. The wet blanket is steaming. Who is a wet blanket, and why should it steam, and what on earth are you gassing about? demanded the young lady.

Mine libe, I'm talking in bow. You're talking nonsense if you ask me, Captain, well, Nicco, then, when did our worthy managers say anything about a new song for me, or even an old one for that matter? Ah, I mustn't reveal the secrets of the treasure house. A man may smile and smile, and be a villain, but if in its smiles even a manager, Olga must yield. That was his best effort, Carlton Smyth, not.

being a villain, smiled seraphically, and the ruthless Vincent Bland interfered by remarking that there was a call for three o'clock, and it was now 245. That night, Mrs. Upjohn came to the theatre to hear her daughter's song, so that there were three in the homeward-bound cab. On this occasion, Jays had paid pounds for the right sort of bouquet, which was handed over the footlights with fitting ceremony by the conductor. But, to Jay's annoyance, there were four others, one from the company, three from unknown admirers. Next morning he received a note per message boy.

Next morning he received a note per boy messenger. Dear Nico, it ran. I'm awfully sorry, but I can't meet you today. Too bad, isn't it? When you are off to the currer this afternoon, but CS and VB have been putting their heads together and my part is to be made more of and my song is transferred to the second act

and I'm in the theatre now hard at work there are people you know who dine late and bookstalls just to see one item and the management think this may happen in my case flattering but a nuisance because rehearsal has started early and will end late I hear that the libraries were getting anxious so Carton Smyth had to consider them.

Never mind, dear, I write often, and the days will fly until you come again to dear old London town. Yours ever, Lil. Fly, would they? Jays thought they would drag most infernally. Not another hour's leave was possible until the close of the autumn manoeuvres. He had to plead urgent private affairs

before his colonel would listen to an application for the brief respite now. ended. He had been on the point of strolling out, but a fine morning had lost its attraction, and he sauntered into the club's smoking room. There he picked up a newspaper, and within a minute was glaring angrily at a paragraph in a column headed, notes and news. Yesterday, he read, Captain Jays of the North Devons, who is relaxing in town after the strenuous life of the Kara, entertained a party of friends to luncheon at Catanis restaurant, 459 strand. Though the majority of the guests hailed from the Pandora Theatre, society was represented by

Mr. Bertie Fulkeson, diplomacy by Baron von Retton Mayor of the German embassy, the arts by Mr. Samuel de Castro, and the stock exchange by Mr. Lionel Roper. The diva of the function, moreover, was Miss Lily Paradale, who is already known to the smart set as the Mind the Paint Girl of the Pandora. Luigi catered in his inimitable way, and the fun was fast and furious, while not a few of the regular patrons of the restaurant were highly interested in learning that the new star was shining in their midst, and in broad daylight, which went to prove that her extraordinary attractiveness on the stage is by no means dependent on artifice, and so on

in excellent journalists. The while-meaning scribe might have had no more sinister intent than to do a good turn both to Catanis and to Lily Paradagh, but Jays was still fuming over the expose, for he regarded it as nothing less, while his luggage was being piled on a hansom. Hello, Jays, said a man who had just emerged from the club, and was standing on the top step of the entrance.

Back to the army again? Yes. Let me see. You're quartered at the carer, aren't you? Yes. You have my condolences, beastly hull, all grass and furs. Still, I've had some fairly decent intervals there, repin, snipe shooting within a few hours,

and the raisin isn't half bad. Have you hunted with a killed air? No. You're barely monosyllabic this morning, Nicco? What's wrong? Got the hump? Something of the sort. Goodbye, Houston.

Cabby! End of chapter three. Chapter 4 of the Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Nathan Fair. The Mind the Paint Girl by Lewis Tracy.

Chapter 4. The Descent Jay's Never Jay's never afterwards forgot that drive through London. Shaftesbury Avenue was up, so the cabman, with the curious liking of his tribe for byways, in preference to main thoroughfares, threaded the mean streets of Soho and East Marlebone. Somehow this ignoble retreat through the slums of London did not offer a happy augury for the future. It looked to Jay's as though he were passing from the glitter and brightness of metropolitan life

into depths at once sordid and depressing. It did not help to cheer his gloom when, at a corner of Tottenham Court Road, he caught sight of a newspaper placard bearing a legend of singular personal interest. Staring Black Type announced that the evening something or other contained a portrait and biography of the Mind the Paint Girl at the Pandora. On the impulse of the moment, he stopped the cab and bought a copy of the paper. Sure enough, a very fair picture of Lily Paradel appeared on an inner page, and the printed details of her life were far more flattering than was warranted.

by the facts. Evidently the department which dealt with the advertising literature of the Pandora Theatre had prepared this glowing memoir, and indeed, Jays fancied he could trace the same skilled hand that had aroused his ire by the paragraph in one of the morning journals. This discovery, or guess, as it might be described more accurately, gave him time to think. He had supposed that the reference to the complimentary luncheon at Katanis was a kindly puff, emanating from some journalist who frequented the restaurant, but now he had reason to suspect that the theatre's press agent was embarking on a serious campaign in behalf of its latest celebrity. Each line of the laudatory notice bore witness to an intimate knowledge of Lily's career,

a knowledge which suppressed or distorted her professional experiences, until they were made to appear part of a settled plan that had resulted in her triumphant debut as the Mind the Paint Girl at the Pandora. Even the account of her birth and upbringing was trimmed to suit the writer's intent. She was described as the only daughter of a successful merchant, who had been widely known and esteemed in the Battersea district until his lamented death some years earlier. Jays knew the truth.

He knew that a faded little man had worked and striven until he was pushed out of a small shop by competition, and finally driven out of life itself, one among the thousands of unrecorded failures which London produces with such callous and damage. difference. Fah! His strong hands crushed the newspaper into a ball, and he threw it into the roadway. One day, 16 months later, the senior major of the North Devons, questioned on the point by a perplexed colonel, admitted that Captain Jay's seemed to be losing grip. About the same period,

the subalterns of the battalion, more brutally juvenile in the frankness of their judgment, had arrived at the conclusion that Jay's was a slacker. There was a dreadful truth about both verdicts, and none knew it better than Nicco Jays himself. He had visited London four times during that weary year, and on each occasion had returned to the regiment less eager to advance in his profession, and more disconsolate because of the ever-widening gap between Lily Paradel's meteoric rise in public favor and his own apparent anchorage in a backwater of routine. It was not true, of course, that he was being overlooked by the authorities. It was not true that he had no career to look forward to. In his saner moments he realized that hard work and faithful devotion to

duty would surely earn promotion. More rapidly, in his case, then was attainable by thousands of other officers, equally keen, equally well qualified for better things, but lacking the interest he could command. Had he never met Lily Paradil, he would unquestionably have been happy and content, but her letters, each glowing eulogium in the press, every scrap of gossip retailed by the latest arrival from London strengthened the conviction that she was drifting away from him, that while he remained in the army it was hopeless to think of marrying her. At last, the crash came. The battalion figured among the Indian reliefs for the next trooping season. Jays, like every other man in the regiment, obtained short leave in his turn and raced off to London. It must be now or never for him with

Lily Peridale. She must either abandon the stage, marry him, and drop into the conventional round of the Memsehib, who gives more to the empire than her stay-at-home sister dreams of, or he must weigh in the scales and infatuation as opposed to a career. He knew exactly what travail and argument and bitter family broils lay ahead. Rumour had been busy, even in quiet Huntingdon, and the mother had written to her soldier's son, imploring him to cut loose from a connection which could not be other than harmful. I say nothing as to the personal qualities or charm of Miss Peridel, she wrote. She must be both clever and fascinating, or she could never have made so great an impression on the playgoing public of London. But she and her like should marry in their own

class. Its members should not think of allying themselves with the men of our county aristocracy, who lead our public services almost by right of birth and who, in their turn, should rear sons and daughters fitted to carry the flag to the far lands. Such girls do not make good mothers. in that sense, if in no other, they are a menace to society. Here, then, was a solid rock of prejudice awaiting him at Huntington. Bob, his eldest brother, took a different line, but one equally emphatic. The newspaper account of the festivity at Catanis had found its way to distant Bulaueo, being copied and recopied until it appeared in a small local sheet,

months after the original publication in London, when, oddly enough, brother Bob had missed seeing it. Dear Nicco, he wrote, judging from the enclosed cutting, you seem to have been going at, date uncertain, but details convincing. Chuck it, dear boy. Give it the everlasting shove.

Our crowd looks rather out of place in such gatherings. I want to see your name in dispatches, not in the titill tattle of the coo-lease. I'm going strong out here and hope to have a run home next year. It'll be rather rotten if I miss you, but a fellow in the Manchester's told me the other day that your battalion was due in India next cold weather. Of course, if that's so, we'll grumble and make the best of it.

There was always a jays somewhere on the frontier. Sound, honest counsel, which rung the withers of the recipient, nor was the situation improved on the morning the letter arrived by the fact that his colonel sent for J's and complained about the low musketry average attained by his company. It is the worst in the battalion and used to be the best, he said. Why is that? I always regarded you as my most promising officer in musketry in instruction. A year ago you were a keen soldier, thorough in every respect, and particularly so on the range. What has happened? Can I help you in any way? The Colonel's tone was kindly, even if the

words were uncompromising. Jays muttered miserably that he had been bothered by personal matters, but would endeavour to affect an improvement when the regiment went to India. He hated to admit, even to himself, and he was acting foolishly. Yet it was borne in on him that the policy of drift was a complete failure, so he came to London in a mood to hurl thunderbolts and defy lightning. The Duchess of Brixton was still running merrily. Eva Shafto had married her baronet, and Lily Paradel was appearing in the title role. The song that made her famous had been dropped long ago, but its catchy refrain, and the still more catchy nickname it had conferred, would never be forgotten by her generation.

To all London, she was still the Mind the Paint Girl. The curious appellation lent her a sort of protective aura. She was impulsive, good-hearted, lively, and outspoken as ever, but no man dared press acquaintance to the bounds of flirtation. Her profession, and especially the place she filled in it, might have been expected to expose her to the malice of the disappointed and the innuendo of scandal-mongers, but never a word was breathed against her. Perhaps the nebulous attachment between Jays and herself accounted for some part of this

good repute. Perhaps the fact that her mother was nominally mistress of the pretty house in Bloomsbury meant something. But the characteristics which that amazing song attributed to her stilled the tongue of gossip. She was wealthy as wealth goes on the stage. Her salary was magnificent, and she was worth every penny of it to the theater. Then she had a stanch backer in Lionel Roper, a vastly different person on the floor of the stock exchange from the dapper little man who cavorted around the foyer of the Pandora, and entertained bevies of Lissom beauties to supper at the Savoy. He made money for her in speculations which were under his own control, and she spent that portion of her income right royally. Her kindness was noteworthy, even in the annals of the most

charitable of professions. Her purse was always open to a needy friend. It was enough for Lily Peridale to hear that some brother or sister Mummer was in want, and she not only relieved temporary necessities, but, if the sufferer was not quite hopeless in a business sense, went out of her way to cajole managers into finding employment. Of course, her matrimonial prospects were eagerly canvassed by her friends. Those who knew about Nicco Jays shook their heads over what they called Lily's Madness, while the larger circle, wrecking little of the claims of some impecunious armyman, vowed that their idol ought to marry a duke. So Jays was coming into a hornet's nest when he stepped from the Irish mail at Houston in the small hours of an October morning,

and was rattled boldly to fate and his club in an antiquated four-wheeler. He had announced his arrival by letter, and a telegram bidding him come to lunch awaited him. He knew what that meant, a noisy meal shared with anyone who happened to drop in, and people were always dropping in on the Upjohn Minaj. Three or four girls from the theatre would certainly be present. they would chatter incessantly until someone remembered an appointment with a dressmaker, followed by another for tea at Rumpelmeyers, after which Lily must rest before going to the theater. When the show was over, ten to one there would be a supper at a restaurant or in somebody's rooms,

perhaps an at-home or a dance, and most certainly no shred of opportunity for a quiet word with Lily. So, being a masterful person, he sent her a note after breakfast, saying that he would be delighted to stay for lunch, but must have a talk earlier, and purposed calling at noon or a few minutes before. He hoped she would reserve an unoccupied half-hour and remained, yours ever, Nicco. Punctually at a quarter to twelve, he alighted from a taxi at the door of a spacious house, lavishly decorated with well-filled window-boxes. He was admitted by a supercilious parlour-maid, whose haughty demeanour did not abate one jot at sight of a privileged visitor. Mrs. Upjohn is not quite well this morning, she announced, and Miss Paradale is out,

but she left word that when you called, you were to be shown into the drawing room, and she would be home almost immediately. Do you know where Miss Paradale has gone? inquired Jay's severely. He thought Gladys was detestable and wondered why either Mrs. Upjohn or Lily endured her heirs and graces. If he had not been a man who took himself too seriously, he would have been amused at the girl, an excellent servant, really, but far more unapproachable than her employers. Miss Paradel is at the photographers, was the reply in a frosty tone, which implied that the lady in question was spending her time better and more profitably than by waiting at home to oblige Captain Jays.

Momentarily quelled, the visitor entered the drawing-room and sat down, whereupon Gladys sailed out with a swish of starched linen. Jays had not been in the room before since Lily had only recently taken this comfortable Bloomsbury house, giving up a cozy flat situated in the same quarter. He glanced around now with a curiosity that was almost furtive in its close observation. The apartment stirred up other memories. By contrast with the dingy folding door suite in the Kennington Park Road, it was almost palatial. If anything, the decoration and furniture were too elaborate,

The walls were papered to represent large clusters of white and purple lilac. The chairs and no fewer than three settees were covered with the chintz of similar pattern, and the curtains, carpet, and lampshades corresponded with meticulous accuracy. A conservatory, partly visible, and of the kind which a certain style of London house often has over the portico, was plentifully stocked with flowers, and hung with a valerium and green sunblinds. A grand piano heaped with music, and a writing table carrying a telephone gave evidence that the room was in daily and nightly use. The pictures were oddments, oil paintings, watercolors, and prints being mixed without the least

regard to harmonizing with each other. They were not crude. Lillie's many visits to art galleries had at least saved her from the Christmas annual pot boiler, but it was patent that her art trophies had been picked up as fancy dictated and hung promptly in the first position that offered. A heap of correspondence on the writing table proved that the girl retained no secrets from her household. Among the letters Jays saw his own, sent from the Currah two days previously. That pile of open letters, nearly all from people whose names were unknown to him, evoked a feeling of resentment. Not for the first time in his relations with Lily Paradel was he conscious of being almost an intruder. That was bad enough. The suspicion of its truth

invariably annoyed him, but his temper was stirred to annoyance by the entrance of Gladys with a message. Mrs. Uptjohn sends her compliments, she said, and regrets she is unable to come down before luncheon. She is still indisposed. Jay's laughed angrily. Is that what Mrs. Upjohn said, he exploded. Words to that effect, sir, said the superior parlor-maid, and she rustled out more noisily than before,

leaving Jays to realize that he was behaving like an impertinent footman. Luckily, he had not long to wait, for he was beginning to understand that any man may have nerves. He had crossed the room and was looking out into one corner of a small square, when a smart, landolet automobile drew up in front of the door, and Lily appeared. Her gown and her hat were in the fashion of the moment, but without any exaggeration. Her good taste invariably demanded restful colors, and she was always ready to subtract a few inches from the diameter of a hat and add them to the length and circumference of a short skirt.

But the various novice in the mysteries of woman's dress could see that her clothes were costly. Jays understood without being told that a quarter's pay would not meet the bills for Lily Peridell's simple morning outfit. But that reflection did not disturb him. It was only reasonable that the leading lady of the Pandora Theatre should be well and expensively attired. His heart throbbed now because of a new conceit. Lily Paradel, descending from her motor, bore an absurdly close resemblance to the young Martianess of Kingston, whom he had received with almost royal honors at a recent prize-giving function in Ireland. Of the two,

the actress carried herself the more daintily, and was unquestionably better dressed. He gulped back a sigh. Lily had caught sight of him the instant she stood on the pavement. She smiled, delightedly, waved a hand, and he could read the movement of her lips, though he could not hear her voice through the double windows. Ah, there you are, she was saying, cheerful and friendly as ever. In a few seconds, she was in the room. Flinging aside a parcel and an airmine muff, she threw her arms around him and kissed him. There was a candid camaraderie in the embrace, which might have meant everything or nothing.

But Jays was unversed in feminine subtleties, and the touch of her cool red lips thrilled him to the core, while the sweet fragrance of her was intoxicating. She seemed to be almost surprised when he would have held her close. Gently extricating herself, she laughed. It's good to see you again, Nicco, she said. What fair wind has wafted you from Ireland. I was not expecting you till Christmas. Jay's, stupid man, deemed it best to take the plunge at once.

You remember I told you that the battalion might be sent to India this cold weather? Yes. She turned to pick up the fallen muff. Well, we're under orders. We sail in the crocodile four weeks from today. Oh, Nicco! She raised a scared face to his, and her air of alarm was somehow gratifying. You need not look so frightened, he laughed.

One would think I said Siberia or some other ungodly hole from which people never come back. India's all right, a ripping place, especially for women. But, Nico, how long will you be there? "'16 years, if you mean the battalion. "'If you mean me, it depends on you. "'On me?' "'She had guessed his errand and did not flinch from its discussion, "'though Jays attributed the sudden pain in her eyes to an unforeseen announcement.

"'Sorry, dear, if I seem to have blurted out my news, "'but I'm so afraid that Jimmy Birch or Gab's Cato "'may be rushing in at any moment that I must cover the ground quickly. "'He came nearer, put both hands on her shoulders, and looked her squarely in the eyes. It has come to this, Lily, he went on, speaking with a slow gravity that was compelling in its intensity. You must come with me, or else I chuck the army. I must be near you.

I can't live without you. Which is it to be? We get married and go to India, or... Or what, Nicco? I don't know, dear. I don't know. There were a great many things he did not know, and one of them was that Lily Paradell had to summon all her strength of will to avoid bursting into tears without further ado. With a splendid

fortitude, she called to her aid a thoughtful and business-like expression which was far from answering to her real feelings. Lifting his hands from her shoulders, she nodded towards a chair. Let's sit down, Nico and talk this over. He obeyed her, but heroic in his egotism, floundered blindly along the track he had marked out. I have tried to hint at this development each time we met. during the past year, he said. This is the first time you've asked me to marry you, Nicco, she answered gravely, seating herself at some little distance. Well, perhaps it is, in so many words.

But you knew, you knew. I can't honestly say that you've taken me unawares, for I have given some thought to it. I've looked on marriage as one of those possibilities of the future that we all have in mind, more or less, but do you really expect me to abandon my career at its very outset? "'What about me, Lil?' he broke in, with a certain heat of expostulation. "'Isn't that the only alternative you leave me?' "'I'm not bidding you give up the army, Nicco,' she said. "'No, but it amounts to the same thing.

"'Do you think I'd be content to go away to India and leave you in London?' "'Why not? "'Other men and women have to endure separation? "'Why should we escape?' "'You're putting the responsibility on me,' he protested, "'and in his frantic striving to think clearly to pick and shoes with care among the furious words jostling each other in his mind, he did not see that a girl in whose veins the red blood had the quality of quicksilver was sitting quiet as a stone. It is you who have

to decide, not I, he said thickly after a slight pause. I have weighed the pros and cons of it, Lil, during many a long day and sleepless night. In fact, I've rather gone to pieces because of the worry. I feel in a sort of way that I'm demanding an unfair sacrifice on your part, but I can't can't go to the other side of the earth for years and leave you here. Never to see you, never to hear from you till three weeks after you'd posted a letter. I can't do it, Lil, and what is more, I won't. Do you believe I wouldn't wait for you? She murmured, stirred to compassionate regret by this agonized avowal from a man usually so self-contained. I daren't risk it, he blurted forth. Risk what? Risk losing you. Good God. Lil, do you know, do you know?

know what love is? You are made for love, if ever any woman was. Don't you understand that the mere notion of some other man winning you is enough to drive me mad? Perhaps you are right, Nico. Perhaps I am selfish, but not in the way you imagine. There are others to think of, others. He almost snorted the word. He had not the slightest suspicion that an impartial listener might allot the burden of selfishness differently as between these two. Yes, she sighed. First, there's mother. I haven't been rich very long, Nicco, and I have no money saved, although I earn a fine salary, and you wouldn't want to take her to India, would you? She hardly expected an answer, even if she did hesitate a fraction of a second,

but her hearer was still busily engaged in nursing his own woes. Then there is Carlton Smyth and the people in the show, she continued hurriedly. We can't leave them altogether out of consideration. Carlton has counted on the run of the Duchess of Brixton lasting another six months. me that the other day, and it isn't merely vain of me to say that the piece depends wholly on me. It is simply common sense. The novelty of the music and the situations has gone long ago. The public come to see me, just because I have been well advertised. It would be horribly mean if I abandoned the theatre at a week's notice. Like you, Nicco, I must say I can't do it.

He rose to his feet with the air of a man whose resolution is fixed. He bent over her tenderly, breathlessly. But you'll marry me, Lil. Say you'll marry me, he gasped. Oh, Nicco, she almost sobbed. You make it very hard for me. You know I won't marry any other man. I don't want to marry anyone yet. But why should you give up your profession on that account? It's wrong. It's a mistake. You'll regret it some time, and then you'll blame me. The door opened. Mrs. Upjohn appeared, her matronly figure wrapped in a negligee of striking Japanese pattern. "'How are you, Captain?' she cried affably. "'How'd you like our new house? Classy, ain't it?'

Then her glance fell on her disconsolate daughter. "'Why, Lil, whatever's the matter?' she demanded. "'Who's been upsetting ye?' Without waiting for a reply, she turned on Jays, and the friendliness had fled for her good-natured face. "'What have you been saying to Lil?' she cried. "'She was lively as a kitten when she went out this morning. A nice thing, come on here.

Mother, broke in the girl, be stirring herself in sheer desperation. Please don't say another word. You're quite mistaken. Captain Jays was just telling me that he does not care to go to India with his regiment, so he's leaving the service. That's all. And enough, too, vowed Mrs. Upjohn, still suspicious and only half appeased.

How's he going to make a living after being in the army all these years? Stick to the job you understand, your poor father used to say. Look at you, Lil. what would have happened to us if you hadn't. Fortunately, the door was flung wide again, this time by an entrancing young lady in a directoire frock. Petite, bright-eyed, and extremely chic in style. Miss Jimmy Birch, a favorite in the Pandora and out of it, bounded into the room. How do everybody? she cried.

You hear again, Nicco. Do you boys in the army ever do any work? It doesn't look like it. And, oh my, what's the matter with you, Lil? been to the dentist or just going something of the sort said lily amuse nicco will you jimmie till i rush to my room and dab my face with o de cologne end of chapter four chapter five of the mind the paint girl this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org recording by rita bivrovox the mind the paint girl by lewis tracy chapter five in the depths twenty-four hours after his return to london jays was summoned to huntingdon as the military euphemism puts it he had asked to be allowed to resign his commission and having taken the most irrevocable step was already beginning to regret it when an ominous message from his old home banished all other considerations. A telegram addressed to the cura had been re-telegraphed to his club, and the text was sufficiently alarming. Come at once, it said,

Your mother is seriously ill, Mortimer. The sender, he knew, was his mother's medical attendant. He caught the next train from King's Cross, and astonished Dr. Mortimer. By meeting him at the garden gate of Ambala, a house named after the first Indian station, commanding, by the late General Jays. You hear Nicco, cried the doctor, I didn't expect you till some time tomorrow. I was in town, and your wire followed me. My mother is better, I hope.

What's wrong with her? Dr. Mortimer hesitated. This man was a soldier, and it would be no kindness to deceive him, even for a day. Still, Mrs. Jays is seriously ill, he began. But the other interrupted, with something of panic in face and voice,

I know that, he said. The telegram told me as much. Man, don't say she is dead. No, Nigo, but she will not recover. Jays almost reeled. Had some evil report reached Quiet Huntingdon long before he had been able to prepare the way? Did his mother know he had sent in his papers?

Had she collapsed under the blow? God! Was he to go through life believing he had killed her? You must bear up, Niko, said the kind of. kindly doctor, interpreting a son's emotion in the only possible way. She has been ill a long time, influenza, complicated by heart trouble. But she would not hear of your being sent for until someone happened to mention, late last night, that the North Devons were under orders for India. Then she yielded, fearing lest, even if she rallied, she might never see you again.

Nicco, you are just in time. It is a strange thing that you should happen to be so near. to-morrow would have been too late ah thank heaven for that small mercy muttered jays hurrying towards the house without another word mortimer gazed after him pityingly he has taken it worse than i would have imagined he thought though not altogether with surprise because big stolid men of the jays stamp often break down more completely under the stress of sudden grief than those of a more nervous temperament he could not know the true motive inspiring that curt thanksgiving to providence mrs jays was far beyond the stage when a lifelong acquaintance with army ways must have set her wondering how nicco came to be by her side so promptly. She smiled a welcome and feebly pressed his hands, and that was all. The mother passed away into the long night without ever a moment of real anguish caused by her soldier's son. He roused himself from a stupor of grief in order to cable the disastrous tidings to Bob in Buluweo and to Nigel, the student of the family, now earning fame as a railway construction engineer

in the Argentine. The problem presented itself. Should he tell Lily at once? The hour was rather late. She would be preparing for the theater, and the suddenness of the thing might interfere with her work. He decided with a certain grimness that the business of the Pandora Theatre took precedence over his private affairs. So he wrote, Next morning came a telegram, My love and heartfelt sympathy with you in your irreparable loss, Lily. It comforted him, strangely. No matter what clouds there were in his life, Lily always rang true. She could have chosen no phrase more grateful, more subtly healing.

It was Lily herself speaking, tender-hearted, affectionate, impulsive Lily Paradel. His mother's will, named as her executor or executors, such of my sons as may happen to reside in the United Kingdom at the time of my death. The tears wrote, to the man's eyes when he heard the simple words they had come from no lawyer-like mint they were eloquent of the unswerving devotion of an englishwoman to england

her husband her sons she herself during many years had they not gone each and all north and south east and west when duty called scattered from pole to pole charting the trackless depths of ocean the bones of our english dead mark the ever-widening borkmaning borkman the bones of our english dead mark the ever-widening bound of empire. And who knew it better than she? During the forty years of her life, since she became a woman, she had always been ready to die, or to suffer a loss more bitter than death in the service of her country. Yet the gods were kind to her. Her three sons were alive, and she herself was laid to rest by the side of her dear husband. So the black days passed, and Jay's scarce realized all that he had lost until he found himself in London once more, bereft of a mother he had loved more than he knew, and minus a profession. At first he shrank, almost with terror, from the well-meaning inquiries of friends. Hello, Nicco, some man in the army who knew him would say. Sorry to hear

of your bad news. But why the Dickens did you chuck the service? Then, when his old battalion was hurried to the front to get licked into shape in one of Britain's little wars beyond the Indus, some heedless blatherer would condole with him. Rotten bad luck for you, Nicco, leaving the regiment before you heard of this scrap. It's not going to be a walkover. You saw that poor Montague and Lawson were nipped in a rearguard action the other day. Yes, he knew. Montague was junior major and Lawson, senior captain.

Jays would have obtained his majority. four years ahead of the ordinary course of events but why tell him that now he quitted the club not only was this step made imperative by a rule forbidding continuous residence but he had grown shy of meeting old brother officers he took rooms in german street and flung himself headlong into the curiously mixed and cosmopolitan society which fluttered moth-like around the steady flame of the pandor theatre. Lily Paradel began by being genuinely concerned about his future. She urged him constantly to take up his secretarieship or something. She even offered to secure valuable introductions to citymen by using the good offices of Carlton Smythe or Lionel Roper. But he rejected such intermediaries. Don't worry your pretty little head about me, he would say. No matter what happens, I have more than enough to live on decently, and some opening must present itself soon, which will pay me better than smugging at company law in the hope of earning a hundred and fifty a year. What good is that

to you and me, now I ask you? What indeed? Added to his own six hundred, it meant hardly as much in twelve months as Lily Paradell earned in two. Her salary was one hundred pounds a week, and if so inclined she could quadruple that sum during certain weeks in the season by appearing at private houses in the west end on such occasions she was invariably urged to sing mind the paint she had dozens of better songs in her repertoire but there was always some foreign notability or american millionaire in the company anxious to hear the mind the paint girl in her most famous role so nicco jays the erstwhile smart soldier developed into a kind of retriever trained to fetch and carry and escort his mistress when required but he lacked some of the fine qualities of the dog he could be ill-tempered and peevish and would snap unexpectedly then lily would flare into rebellion and hot words would fly and next day she would pet her dear old nicco and soothe him into good behavior and placidly placid servitude once more. Such a state of things could not endure.

She was too high-spirited a girl, he, too proud a man, to remain bound indefinitely by a tie so vague. Neither suspected it, but a crisis was approaching in their lives, and the hour of trial and real humiliation came when Robert Jays returned from South Africa. He, bluff and hardy man of the world,

bronzed by the southern sun, and taught by the free companionship of the Veld to judge his fellows openly and fearlessly, cast a critical eye over Niko and his surroundings, and to use his own forcible phrasing, sized up the situation in a tick. You're running to seed here, dear boy, he said, when the two were dining together, one night, soon after the elder brother's arrival in London.

What's come over you? You're not the same man I left here nearly three years ago. I was never more surprised in my life than when you wrote saying you had stopped following the drum. Of course we were all horribly cut up, but the dear old Mater's death, and in a sense it was harder for you than for Nigel or myself. But bad as it was, that didn't account for your sudden collapse? What was it? What is it always, or nine times out of ten? asked Nicco morosely.

A woman? Yes. The woman? "'One doesn't go to the devil for the sex at large, Bob,' Robert Jays laughed. He was dissecting an orange deliberately. "'Of course, I meant the one woman with whom I have heard your name bracketed, the mind-the-paint-girl.' "'Her correct name is Lily Paradell,' said the younger man sharply.

"'Her stage name, yes. I have been told that her correct name is Upjohn, and that her father—she makes no secret of her birth or parentage—' broke in nicco. She has kept me dangling about unconscionably, I must admit, but for all that she is the best-hearted and cheeriest and most charming woman in London. I haven't the least doubt of it, agreed Robert instantly. Fellows who came out from home were always raving about her. I almost regretted that business kept me so long on the wrong side of the line that I hadn't

a chance of hearing her. They said she used to skip about the stage like a fairy. My dear fellow, you are talking of ancient history. Lily Paradale does ten times the work now that she did then. If you want to see her at her best, come with me to the Pandora Theatre tomorrow evening. Sorry, Nicco, but I can't, tomorrow. I am booked for Peter Chalmers' uncle. Peter is one of my partners, you know? Well, that can stand over, but I want you to meet Lily.

Tomorrow is her birthday. Other things being equal, I shall get up a little bit of. supper at Catanis after the theater, say 11.30. Chalmers is a quiet old bird I fancy, so you'll be free at that hour. Have a taxi waiting. They take you anywhere in ten minutes. Bob did not answer at once. He signed to a waiter to bring the coffee and cigars. Let me understand matters fully, Nicco, he said, when they were able to talk unreservedly once more. Are you engaged to Miss Paradel? Yes, in a sort of a way? but a man doesn't marry a woman in a sort of a way i was going to explain lillie and i were very good friends before she made the hit that put her bang in front of the musical comedy stage if i had married her then all would have been well

but i was in the army and the mater was living and there were or there seemed to be fifty good reasons for delay so like a fool i played the waiting game one minute did mother ever know about lily no not exactly that is she had heard something and wrote me about it discussing marriage with an actress as a general proposition need i tell you what line she took robert jays was endowed with the quality of tact in which his brother was so conspicuously lacking he evaded the direct question by putting another if i remember rightly he said she died without knowing that you had sent in your papers yes thank the lord Robert nodded. He was trying to help Nico over his fences. Sorry, but I interrupted you, he said. Lily's success changed the whole perspective. From being a chorus girl, earning a couple of guineas a week, she sprang to a thousand, two thousand, five thousand a year.

One doesn't take such kangaroo jumps on an army pay sheet. I stopped just where I was. With average luck, my princely remuneration might rise from eleven shillings seven pence a day, to thirteen shillings sevenpence in five or six years if i behaved myself and passed the staff examination he spoke bitterly and robert was content to say of course nico one doesn't enter the service to make money for six generations there has always been a jays with the colours till i made a fool of myself i didn't imply that i don't even think it like every other human institution the army is changing if it demands the whole time of good men. It will have to make it worth their while. But let us keep to the one topic, this indefinite engagement of yours. It is not indefinite. Lily will marry me when I can afford to keep her in something like the style she has one for herself. I see. Of course, a young lady at the top

of the theatrical set lives under heavy current expense. You could give her a better time on $3,000 a year than she has now on five. In other words, you have to multiply your present income by five. How do you purpose doing it?' Nicco chuckled dryly and poured out a glass of port. "'I dislike arithmetical problems after dinner,' he said. "'Suppose you tell me something about your Bulawayo property. "'Bob, I wish to goodness you had gone into the service instead of me. "'To look at you now, it seems the silliest sort of nonsense

"'that anyone should have regarded you as thisical.' "'There's a lot of silly things in the world which have the unfortunate drawback of being true. The dry air of the veld has done wonders for me, but if I were to remain here during one cold, raw damp spring, I should be barking again. But no gibbing, Nicco, let's get this heart-to-heart talk finished now. I'm not a marrying man, for the best of reasons. Of course, if my health continues to improve, I may develop the amococcus microbes some fine day. But without positive experience, I formed a theory on the point. I loved a girl, and she loved me, I'd expect her to come along to Bulawayo or any other old

place. And give up five thousand a year that she was making off her own bat? Robert blew a big ring of smoke into the air, and shot a number of smaller rings through it. It's a deuce of a lot of money, he mused aloud. I fancy it can't last many years, and as I've said before, it really doesn't mean the same amount earned by a man as the head of a household. Let us balance the ledger. On the one side you have the theater, day in and day out, with a few hours of giddy whirl strictly within the four-mile radius, artificial every minute of life. Motor, dresses, hotel bills, jewelry, top rates for every mortal thing, not much left out of the five-thal. On the other side, the hypothetical Mrs. Jays would live a free, unfettered, delightful life in Rhodesia. She'd move in good society, a damn sight better than she meets in London. Oh, I know what I'm talking about. Our people out there are the right sort, not the effeminate dandies and painted dolls who form the majority of any crowd you mix with in town. Dash it all, Nicco, if the girl's heart

is sound and her brain clear, she won't keep a man hanging after her here when happiness and a home are waiting for her out there. Robert Jays had made for him two rather long-speecher. but he had said what he meant to say while leaving unsaid those things which might hurt and wrinkle so in that respect his remarks were a model of good oratory nico was more deeply moved than he cared to show he remained silent for fully a minute when he spoke it was not to controvert his brother's philosophy but to thank him you're a decent chap bob he said but that's nothing new you are never anything else are you never anything else are you offering me a job on your farm yes peter and i and jim dalby of course had a long jaw before i sailed we want someone we can trust to act as our agent we'd put you in the way of it and one or other of us would be on the spot for a year or more and in the meantime we'd be striking out in other directions there ain't millions in farming or trading but there's a glorious life and a comfortable one and enough to provide for the misses and the kids when the rain fall What do you say to it? You don't want me to decide at once? No, there's no special hurry.

You can't expect any girl to make up her mind on such an important matter in less time than she'd take to choose a summer hat. You see, I'm allowing for the fact that you mean to consult Miss Paradell. Mind you, I'd be delighted if she'd marry you and come out. She must be a jolly, decent sort of girl, if one quarter of what I've heard of her is correct. but there must be no shirking the issue, Nicco. I hate to see you wasting the best years of your life in a way that's not—well, I must put it frankly,

that's not creditable to you or to any of us, either those who are left or those who have gone. A third long speech, but this time it held a barbed shaft that was not blunted because of a fraternal anxiety to come to the rescue. The younger man flushed deeply. He felt the thrust, and his incurable self-reacted, love was wounded. You haven't quite realized the difficulties that beset me, he muttered. Somehow it sounds childish for a grown man to plead an infatuation as an excuse. But it exists, so why try to ignore it? And there is one element in the situation which has escaped you.

I might, I could have married Lily Paradel three years ago and have remained in the army. Suppose I had. What a hullabaloo there would have been in the family. great Scott. It would have caused almost as much heart-burning as if I had embezzled the canteen funds, and far more, I do honestly believe, than if I had done a bunk with the Colonel's wife. Robert laughed cheerfully. He had contrived to put his point of view unmistakably before his stiff-necked brother, and that would suffice. Conditions change, as the years roll on, he said. Our dear old dead remembered the time when his regiment boasted the proud possessive.

of a bottle-nosed major who could drink any officer in the British army under the table. Nowadays, that sort of major doesn't exist, in a mess at any rate. Nico felt that Bob had shelved the fresh discussion he was raising, and shelved it rather skillfully, too. We haven't settled about tomorrow night, he said. If I arrange that party, will you come? Delighted. Any possibility of an understanding being reached between you and the lady in the interim.

yes there's a chance i'll be fetching her from the theatre to-night when she's tired and inclined to be snappy i'll go bail not a word of it to-night nico unless you want to fail at the first pop out of the box well then to-morrow afternoon though being her birthday she'll be having lots of callers don't press dear boy colts on the curb but fillies on the snaffle isn't half a bad rule but should you have mentioned south africa for the honeymoon give me the office that's all and i'll shape my talk according which is bad grammar but i hate adverbs don't you they ought to be kept for flapper's academies only nico saw the drift of his brother's outspoken diplomacy the day of shuffling was past it must be now or never for the loose end of the jays family he laid his plans cautiously and was so thoughtful during the homeward drive from the Pandora, that Lily chafed him about it. You remind me of Vincent Bland after tea, she said. Why after tea, particularly, he asked. Because by that time he knows what has won the big race,

and is bothering his brains to account for the strange loss of form in the horse he backed. He bets rather a lot, doesn't he? went on Jay's, feeling that the conversation was following a safe line. Far too much, and he has promised me to give it up. I don't know how often. Oh, Nicco, I'm glad you haven't got that failing. It would worry me dreadfully if you took to betting. Jay's smiled, though not because of an unctuous self-righteousness.

He could not help thinking that next day he was taking an outside chance, which would have appalled even the sporting Vincent Bland in proposing that the Mind the Paint Girl should fly from London to the wilds of Rhodesia merely to oblige him, Nicco Jays. But, you l'ave volu, George Dundin, You laveeuvre. And Jays was just the kind of man who would blame anybody other than himself

if the experiment went wrong. Eighteen months earlier, Lily had summed him up accurately with one lightning-clear glimpse of a woman's intuition. End of Chapter 5. Chapter 6 of the Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Libravox recording.

vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libravox dot org recording by rita the mind the paint girl by louis tracy chapter six the plot when he chose lily paradel's birthday as the day on which he would put his fortunes to the test nicco jays as it happened was running counter to the designs of several other people few of whom were his friends while some if not avowed enemies at least made common cause against his self-assertive arrogance where lily paradel was concerned set stubbornly on his own purpose he was superbly indifferent to the thoughts and feelings of either friend or foe in pursuance of a settled plan he resolved to drop in on the upjohn household about tea-time the place would surely be crowded with lily's friends theatrical and otherwise, but Mrs. Upjohn would rout them when the hour came for Lily to eat a slight meal and to rest before going to the theatre. He counted then on securing an uninterrupted TED-a-Tet. It was not wholly surprising that Jays should regard an extraordinary enterprise with a degree of hopefulness, a strong-minded man dominated by what W.S. Gilbert so happily described as

hard-boiled egotism, he would naturally thrust his own interests into the foremost place. He accepted most thoroughly Shakespeare's cheering dictum that, there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. And whatever the outcome might be, it was unquestionable that an irresistible tide was running in Nicco J's life at that moment. In fact, a powerful adverse current was making its influence felt a good hour or more before the time he had fixed upon for the visit to Bloomsbury. The earliest caller admitted by the superior parlor maid was a tall, immaculately dressed young man, whose bearing and appearance suggested the soldier. Indeed, a well-informed

critic might have reasoned more closely and detected a guardsman. He was a good-looking youngster, about twenty-five years of age, and his manner held that charming sense of deference to the opposite sex, which wins instant approval, whether from parlor-maid or countess. Even the frigid Gladys smiled almost affably. No, my lord, Miss Peridale is not at home, she said, but she will be here soon, and I was told to ask any friends who came to wait in the drawing-room. Lord Farncombe promptly accepted this general invitation. Rather contrary to his expectation, he found himself alone in the drawing-room.

Gloves, hat, and cane in hand, he seated himself in an armchair in the middle of the room and glanced round. On pedestals, on a console table, on a china cabinet, on one of the settees, on the tea-table, even upon the floor, stood huge baskets of flowers and other handsome floral devices in various forms, each with a card attached. Lying higly-pigley on the writing-table were a heap of small packages, mainly jewelry cases, some opened and some closed, and a litter of paper and string. Every package in case had its accompanying card or letter.

Lily Paradil was popular among friends whom she could reckon by the score, and few of them had forgotten the significance of the date. lord farncombe's gaze rested with approval on one particularly effective bouquet composed exclusively of frau karl drushki and la france roses to which possibly because of its size and beauty a special place of prominence on the piano had been accorded at last a somewhat striking portrait of lily paradel herself not in one of her stage characters but severe in its simplicity caught his eyes he was rising to examine it more closely when the door was opened and lionel roper entered the stockbroker one of those tubby cheerful bald-headed little men who seem never to grow older greeted the young guardsman cordially hello he cried i'm in luck at last just the chap i'm hunting for how do you do lord farncombe how do you do farncombe shook hands and managed to conceal any surprise he may have felt, either because of Roper's enthusiasm, or of the very striking and gorgeous waistcoat that Uncle Lall was wearing. Moreover, Gladys came to his aid. Having shown Mr. Roper into the room,

she remained in the doorway, and watched his effusiveness with her habitually scornful air. I'll tell Mrs. Upjohn you're here, she said. Oh, ta, replied Roper without looking at her, and Gladys disappeared. "'It's hot,' he went on, vigorously mopping his domed forehead. "'Miss Paradel is out,' said Farncombe. Roper nodded and took off his gloves. Evidently he was quite at home here. "'She won't be long, I dare say,' he commented,

beaming around the room with marked appreciation of its unusual contents. "'I've brought her a few flowers,' said Farncombe, rather at a loss to maintain the conversation. "'Oh, have you?' said Roper. I've sent her a trifle of jewelry.' The guardsman glanced at the writing-table. She seems to have received quite a lot of jewelry, he said. Yes, by Jove, doesn't she?

Ah, there's my brooch! And Roper bustled across to the table to pick up one of the cases and gloat over it. Farncombe came a little nearer. I didn't consider I to write to offer her anything but flowers on so slight an acquaintance, he explained modestly. Roper grinned acceptance of such an... excellent sentiment. Exactly, but I'm an old friend, you know, plenty of time for a youngster like you. Perhaps by her next birthday. I hope so. The two smiled at each other,

and Roper read something in the younger man's face, which encouraged him to unfold the scheme he had in mind. He approached Farncombe closely and took hold of the lapel of his coat. Look here, he said confidentially, are you doing anything tonight? I shall be a the theatre of course oh we shall all be at the theatre to shout many happy returns and kick up a general shindy later i mean after the show are you free there is nothing that i can't get out of said farncombe eagerly good well you see it's this way smythe is giving lily a bit of a supper in the foyer with a dance on the stage to follow quite a sociable affair about five-and-twenty people all told will you come if mr smyth is kind enough to ask me began farncombe he does ask you through me said the impetuous roper he's left all the arrangements to me and more cooling carlton never did anything in his life i egged him on to this i've been sweating at it since eleven o'clock i haven't been near the city not near it there'll be a hew and cry out for me soon from my office well there was no need to ask the young officer whether or not the invitation was agreeable to him. His eyes glowed, and he beamed down on the little stockbroker, as though the latter had just conferred on him the dearest wish of his heart.

I shall be delighted, he said, and there was no doubting the genuineness of the conventional phrase on this occasion. Splendid, said Roper, with a self-satisfied air, I've been trying to get on to you all day. I've called twice at your club and at St. James' place. Sorry you've had so much trouble. Roper bounced down onto the sette in front of the writing table and applied his handkerchief again vigorously. Small and mercurial, he was singularly lively in his actions, and did everything with a zest, whether it was heading a daring attack by the bulls or taking a pretty girl into supper. There'll be the Baron, he said confidentially. Sam DeCastro, Bertie Fulkerson, Stu Heneage, Jerry Grimwood, Colonel and M. M. C. R. R. He said, and

mrs stidolph you know the stidolph she used to be dolly and sir and ourselves besides cooling and vincent bland and the pick of the company katani does the food and drink i don't believe i've forgotten a single thing then his tone changed to one of deep import he pointed to the arm-chair from which farncombe had risen sit down a minute he went on sliding along the settee so as to come nearer are you waiting to see lily this afternoon "'I should like to,' said Farncombe definitely. "'Because if Jays should happen to drop in while you are here—' "'Captain Jays?' "'Yes, Nicco Jays, or if you knock up against him tonight at the theatre, "'Mom about this! About the supper, you mean?' Roper nodded emphatically.

"'Yes, of course. We don't want Nicco Jays. We simply don't want him. And if he heard that you and some of the boys were coming, he might wonder why he wasn't included. Viscount Farncombe considered the point for a moment. He strikes me as being a rather surly ill-conditioned person, he remarked, seeing that roper evidently expected him to say something. A regular loafer, agreed the other. He appears to live at Catanis.

I never go there without meeting him. The stockbroker spread wide his hands and pursed his lips. He had never forgiven Nicco for daring to thrust himself into Lily Paradel's life. Exactly, he said, affecting an air of commiseration, Catanis and a top-back bedroom in German Street. And hanging about the Pandora,

that's Dick O'J's all the time. Farncombe hardly cared to enter Connemour into a backbiting discussion regarding anyone whom Lily Paradel received on the terms which he fancied were accorded to Jays. He's quite an old friend of Mrs. Upjohn, and of Miss Paradels too, isn't he? he asked.

Roper evaded the point. Known him sometime, of course, he answered airily. That's it. That's the complete explanation. Lily's so jolly faithful to her old friends. You oughtn't to complain of that, commented Farncombe smilingly. Oh, but I'm a real friend, declared Roper. I've always been a patron of musical drama. It's my fad.

And I kept an eye on Lily, long before she's sprang into prominence. Do you remember mind the paint, mind the paint? And he sang the words gaily. Why, I've looked after her like a father. Uncle Lall, she calls me. Seeing that his hearer was somewhat taken aback by the decisive claim he had put forward to exercise

and a vuncular right of discretion with regard to Lily's associates, he added reassuringly, I'm a married man, you know, but the wife has plenty to occupy her with the kids, and she leaves the drug. drama to me. She prefers Bexhill. Then, thinking to strike the iron while it was hot, he leaned forward and spoke with great emphasis. Farncombe, what a charming creature. Mrs. Roper? inquired the Viscount innocently. No, no, dash it all. I'm talking about Lily.

Oh, and so's my missus, for that matter, when she chooses. But Lily up John. His cracked voice rose in a crescendo of admiration. Ah, said Farncombe in the low reverent tone of one speaking of a goddess, She's beautiful, perfectly beautiful. Yes, and as good as she's beautiful, you take it from me. Feeling he had gone far enough, he dismissed the topic with a wave of the hand. Well, if you see Jays, you won't, he entered abruptly. But Farncombe fully understood.

Not a syllable, he said. Roper, very much. virtuously conscious that he had done his duty rose and walked across the room yielding to that incurable propensity of his to be always on the move i've warned the others he began but broke off to say hastily by the bye if lily should mention the supper in the course of conversation remember she's not in the conspiracy conspiracy the younger man did not seem to like the word but the deus ex machina of a scheme which contemplated the shutting out of an undesirable from that night's joyous festivity determined to put matters clearly to shunt nicco he insisted were letting her think there are to be no outsiders roper hardly understood that a certain type of man needed a very gentle touch on the reins when being brought over such difficult ground obviously farncombe found some sort of a very gentle touch on the reins when being brought over such difficult ground obviously farncombe found some puzzling element in the project why came the question which he very much like captain jays to be asked the fussy stockbroker was becoming slightly impatient this young gentleman was altogether too considerate of other people's feelings life is hard in many respects as any man quickly discovers after a novitiate passed in the peculiar atmosphere of capel court you don't seem to grasp the proposition he declared haven't i told you once you're a friend of lils the door opened but roper's alert eyes were on it before any one became visible is this ma he cried

yes it was ma pa gee and stupidly good-humoured as ever ma attired in an expensive dress designed for a woman several inches taller and slimmer and many years younger but she carried herself gaily and tripped into the room with a pleasant smile on her contented features. "'Hello, Uncle,' she said. Roper greeted her with an excited flourish, which conveyed at once a welcome and an indication that there was someone of consequence in the room. Lord Farncombe, he explained grandiloquently. Mrs. Upjohn, who would not have been disconcerted in the least, had he announced that the visitor was of royal blood, advanced and shook hands cordially. "'Glad to see your ear again,' she chirped. "'You have been before, haven't you?' last week said farncombe smiling apologetically of course of course you came with mr bertie fulgerson but somebody or others always poppin in suddenly be thinking herself that she must not encourage promiscuous callers she added lill's too many i say it's tyrant for her won't you set down roper essayed valiantly to change the conversation mrs upjohn's modes of expression were altogether too candid

lord farncombe has brought lily some flowers ma he said where are they he asked turning with the quickness of a robin the young vicount waited until mrs upjohn had settled herself comfortably on the settee in front of the writing-table then he took a chair near her and pointed to the basket of white and pink roses on the piano he said unhappily the good lady barely glanced at the delightful bouquet all kind of you she said such a waste of money too they do go off so quick roper concealing his impatience with an ill-grace affected to read the cards attached to the various floral gifts where is lill he demanded she's settin to a rising young artist in fitzroy street claude morgan his name is said mrs up john and she won't be home till past five it's so tyrant for her i don't know why never heard of morgan broken roper no nor anybody else that's what i tell her why waste your time giving sentence to a rising young artist when the big man ud go down on their ends and knees to do you but that's lil all over she's the best-natured girl in the world and so she gets imposed on all round uncle lal clenched his hands in sheer desperation but farncombe gallantly came to the rescue i prophesied that mr morgan's picture won't have dried before he's quite famous he said the effort fell flat on the person for whom it was chiefly intended mrs upjohn turned a pair of dull eyes full upon him ow do you mean she cried quite disconcerted farmcombe tried to explain i are, I mean, he stammered.

Why won't it have dried? inquired Mrs. Upjohn, clinging to the one fact which had penetrated her narrow intelligence. With an effort, the guardsman pulled his wits together. I mean he will have become celebrated before it has dried. He said, His pictures never do dry, you mean? persisted Mrs. Upjohn. Roper was again bathed in a profuse perspiration.

Really, his protege's mother was, to him. impossible. No, no, Ma, he broke in despairingly. But Mrs. Upjohn swept aside the difficulty as immaterial. However, it doesn't really matter, she sighed. He isn't even going to put her name to it. Why not? said Roper hopelessly. He dreaded what she might say next. You may well ask. He's bent on calling it the mind the paint, girl. But what's wrong with that? Everybody will recognize who that is. Ma. was utterly unconvinced. "'Our names printed on all er photos,' she said plaintively.

Farncombe tried his hand again, though not widely experienced in the ways of this strange world into which he had wandered, he realized at least that it was highly important to win the good graces of the mother of the divinity at whose shrine he worshipped. Miss Paradel's nickname is well known, he said. "'The first time I had the pleasure of seeing your daughter on the stage

Mrs. Upjohn, the man next to me said, Here comes the mind the paint, girl. So the picture will possess an excellent label. Mrs. Upjohn decided to cheer up and look at things in the best light. Oh, well, she cried. Perhaps young Morgan knows his own business best. Let's hope so, at any rate.

Roper, who, to use one of his favorite idioms, was dancing about like a cat on hot bricks, beckoned to Farncombe. "'I want you,' he said in a stage aside. The other was mystified, but rose instantly, excusing himself to the lady, whose contributions to the talk were so jerky and disturbing, he joined Roper.

Mrs. Upjohn was conscious only of escaping from a tedious conversation. She went to the writing-table and sat down to examine the jewelry with unconcealed delight. "'Do me a favor,' whispered Roper in Farncombe's ear. certainly the stockbroker consulted his watch it is only half-past four he said in the same subdued tone take a turn round the square i've some business to discuss with the old lady farncombe nodded and crossed the room to mrs up john i think i'll go for a little walk and come back later on if i may he explained smilingly his hostess was quite contented ridiculously so in roper's opinion oh just as you like, she said. I'll return in about a quarter of an hour, said Farncombe. If we don't see you again, I'll tell Lill you've been here, she cried, still fingering the presence. But Farncombe was not to be put off, even in this downright fashion. Oh, but you will,

he cried, you will see me again. Well, please yourself, and you'll please your dearest friend, as Lill's dad used to say, came the parting shot from the table. The concession was not a great one, but it sufficed. Thank you, thank you very much, said the Viscount, and he went out, closing the door behind him. Then Mrs. Upjohn seemed to become aware of an unusual atmosphere. She turned and looked at the furious roper. I believe you gave that young man the inn to go, Uncle, she said.

So I did. I told him I wanted to talk business with you. The words were blurted out with a species of repressed fury, but Mrs. Upjohn was impervious to Uncle Lyle's sarcasm. Business, she cried indifferently, and resumed her inspection of the glittering array of trinkets on the table. She picked up one and examined it critically.

This is a handsome thing Mr. Grimwood sent her, she purred. The stockbroker thrust his hands deep in his trouser pockets and contemplated her with an air of desperation that would have been comical in a French farce. Upon my soul, ma, you're a champion, he roared. Mrs. Upjohn understood that when a man shouted he was annoyed, so she condescended to give her attention to whatsoever grievance Roper was harboring. Now what have I done? she cried plaintively.

Well, you might spread yourself a little over young Farncombe came the angry explosion. Spread myself, why should I? Confound it, he's Lord Farncombe, a real-life lord, ma. Mrs. Upjohn snapped her fingers. I treat him all alike, so does Lil, she said carelessly. And he's not the first title we've had here, not by a dozen. Her smug self-content got on Roper's nerves. No, but damn it all, he began.

Then he recollected himself. I beg your pardon, he said. Mrs. Upjohn beamed expansively. She knew that somehow she could not tell exactly in what way she had put her critic out of court. "'So you ought,' she said, "'swear'n like a trooper.' "'But this chap's in love with her,' Roper explained franzedly. Mrs. Upjohn giggled.

She had heard that story so often. "'Oh, they're all in love with her, or I've been one time or another. Yes, but they're not all Farncombs, and they're not all marrying men, and I'm prepared to bet my boots that if Lill and young Farncombe could be thrown together—' resolving to bring matters to an issue in so far as lily's mother was concerned he sat down springingly on ascetti and invited her to join him here he said do talk it over

but mrs upjohn was not to be cajoled out of her placid attitude where's the use of talking it over it's waste in one's breath my lil doesn't want to marry anyhow not yet awhile she's quite happy and contented as she is when she does i suppose it'll be the captain she spoke with such calm acceptance of the inevitable and smoothed out her skirt so contentedly that roper was stirred to real indignation the captain he repeated and his utterance was not loud now but hissing and venomous ma the day lill marries nick or jace you and she will see the last of me his voice rose on the concluding word with a sinister emphasis that did finally succeed in disturbing mrs upjohn's equanimity oh don't say that uncle she cried but i do say it the disappointment would be more than i could stand he is a selfish designing beggar now no abuse uncle i don't like it that was mrs upjohn's way whenever she was cornered in an argument she would evade the direct issue by her own remark of that kind. But Roper was not to be placated. He was determined to thrash this matter out, once and for all. A fellow who gets on the soft side of Lill, before she is out of her teens, he cried passionately, before she's made any position to speak of, and when she has made a position, and he's practically on his uppers, sticks to her like a limpid. It's sickening. That's what it is.

But she sticks to him, too, Mrs. Upjohn reminded him. it meant a great deal too little in her humble days you must recollect that she should receive attentions from a gentleman in the army she doesn't forget that and i don't blame her for it roper was not to be pacified mrs upjohn had tacitly refused to be seated so he jumped up from the settee and walked to and fro it's cruel that's what it is just cruel he muttered here's gwenny harker and maidy travail both married to pey pierce sons and eva shafto to a baronet all of them pandora girls and our lil is left high and dry engaged to a nobody it's cruel there's no other word for it she is not actually engaged demurred mrs upjohn um roper puckered his lips disdainfully the idea was went on the good lady when he shirked going to india and gave up soldierin so as to be nearer that he should get something to do in london then they were to be engaged the stout stockbroker laughed sarcastically nature had intended him for a low comedian and he did really look ridiculous now that he was genuinely in a rage oh to be just i admit he's in no hurry he snapped he's been a whole year looking for something to do in london looking for it at catanies and at the pandora bars mrs upjohn was growing concerned and tried to mollify him do be fair uncle lal she said he has to be on the spot at night to bring l'lome after her work but she had only succeeded in providing another bone of contention

exactly fumed roper and when a decent eligible young chap comes along and means business he's choked off by finding nicco jays in possession halting suddenly before mrs upjohn he said impressively now you mark what i am telling you farncombe has not tumbled to a yet. Mrs. Upjohn was becoming indifferent again. She certainly did not know what he meant. "'Azn't he?' she said. No, Bertie Fulkerson has held his tongue about it. So have the other boys who are friends of Farncombs. They see he's hard hit. Oh, they're good boys. They're good, loyal boys.' And Roper's manner changed suddenly to one of supreme content. There's not one of them who wouldn't throw up his hat if Nicco got the chuck. Then he bent over. over her and said, ma, so impressively that Mrs. Upjohn was startled. Hey, what is it? she cried. Roper sank his voice again to a fitting note of intimacy.

You've heard about this little spree at the theatre. Lil thinks it's to be merely among the members of the company. But ain't it? No, it isn't. You keep quiet now, not a word. Who else? began Mrs. Upjohn. The boys and Farncombe, whispered Roper dramatically. at last his hearer's armor was pierced this revelation disturbed her greatly gracious she cried there'll be an awful fuss with the captain to-morrow pish roper snapped his fingers but mrs upjohn was not satisfied he's so horribly jealous she wailed when lil tells him who was at the party there'll be a frightful kick-up roper knew that as well as she did and a fit of despondency seized him momentarily oh i dare say i'm a fool for my pains ma he muttered nothing'll come of it farncombe's as shy as a schoolgirl he'd be on a desert island with a pretty woman for a month without squeezing her hand curiously enough mrs upjohn was beginning to see light while uncle lel was becoming enveloped in gloom bear in mind she said thoughtfully i shouldn't raise any objection if lill could be weaned away from the captain and took a fancy to young farncombe objection the little man called the gods to witness that women were in order unto themselves mrs upjohn was thinking hard now and pursued her line with blissful heedless of Uncle Ladd's satire.

When all said and done, she communed aloud, to be Lady F, with no need to work if you're not disposed to, is better than being Mrs. Captain J's, and having to linger on the stage, perhaps till you drop, to help keep the pot of boiling. Lady F! Her eyes were wide open now. She was daydreaming.

Roper took heart. She had come round to the right humor at last. and Countess of Godalming when his father dies, he prompted her. Mrs. Upjohn instantly looked far into the future. I suppose there'd be any amount of unpleasantness with the family, she reflected. The family, Roper snorted disdainfully. But there is generally a rumpus in such cases. Her friend was ready to deal with that objection decisively.

Why, ma, he said, These tip-top families ought to feel jolly grateful that we're mixing the breed for them a bit? Look at the two lads who have married Gweney Harker and Mady Trevelle. Even Eva Shafto's husband. They haven't a chin or a forehead between them, and their chest sir as narrow as a ten-inch plank.

Quite true? nodded Mrs. Upjohn. In her own quiet way, she had noted these defects for herself. And Farncombe himself, continued Roper, warming to the task, he's inclined to be weedy. I maintain it's a grand thing

for our English nods, that their slips of sons have taken to marrying young women of lil's stamp keen-witted young women full of the joy of life with strong frames beautiful hair and fine eyes and healthy pink gums and big white teeth they sneer at the pandora girls great scott it's my belief that the pandora girls will be the salvation of the aristocracy in this country in the long run hush murmured ma and captain nicholas jays lounged in End of Chapter 6. Chapter 7 of The Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. Recording by Rita Boutros. The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy. Chapter 7. An introlude. Jays and Roper frankly disliked each other, and to neither took any marked pains to conceal the fact. The army man regarded the eccentric, but somewhat vulgar little stockbroker, as a bounder, while Roper's opinion of Jays is already on record. The mere presence of Uncle Lall was an instant source of irritation to Jays,

and possibly for that very reason he did not notice Roper's rather guilty air, nor Ma's propitiatory grin. Good afternoon, Mrs. Upjohn. How are you, Roper? he said as he closed the door. Ah, Captain, smirked the lady. Hello, Nicco, said Roper offhandedly. Lily not in? Jays came nearer. He was not so well groomed as he used to be in the old days,

but he still carried himself with an air of authority, and he permitted his eyes to rest for a contemptuous second on Roper's magnificent waistcoat. No, said Mrs. Up John, she's in Fitzroy Street, set in to Moray. Morgan. Why didn't she ask me to go with her? frowned Jay's. Don't know, I'm sure. She's took Miss Birch. Oh, grunted Jay's slightly placated. Then his glance surveyed the display of flowers.

Hmm. Evidently he disapproved of so many admirers, whereupon Roper, to annoy him, jerked his head towards the writing table. Some nice presents over there, he said. She's beat her record this year, Lilaz, out and out? "'Purred Mrs. Upjohn complacently, "'Little dreaming that she was adding fuel to the fire. "'Jays strode across the room and scowled at the array of jewelry. "'Very nice,' he muttered. "'He took up one of the cases and read the card on it,

"'only to throw it back angrily. "'Confound him!' he cried. "'What the devil do they take her for?' "'Allow me to remark, Jays, "'that one of those gifts is from me,' spluttered Roper. Oh, I'm not alluding to you. Much obliged. Jay's disregarded Roper's fuming.

He turned and addressed Mrs. Upjohn. I've called in to ask Lily whether she'll come out to supper with me tonight at Catanis to celebrate her birthday. Luigi is decorating a table for me specially. Mr. and Mrs. Lenthorpe will come, and Jack Weatherhead and my brother, the Rhodesian one. Are you free, Roper? I suppose it's no good asking. you, Mrs. Upjohn. Jays included Roper in the invitation as he might fling a bone to a dog, but the stockbroker had found some object to interest him near the tea-table, and Mrs. Upjohn

left to her own resources moved uneasily. No, no, thank you, Captain, she stammered, and I—I'm afraid Lil can't manage it either. Why not? Jays wrapped out the obvious question in a court-martial voice. I'm surprised she didn't mention it to you herself when you brought her home last night. Mention what? They're giving her a supper tonight at the theater. At the theater? Roper thought at high time to interfere. Ma might blurt out too much of hard-pressed. Yes, he broke in. Carlton is standing a little spread in the foyer in honor of the occasion, and quite right, too. Lily is his best asset, and chance it. When was this fiction? You? When was this fixed up, demanded Jay's.

Late last night. Jays was disconcerted. He felt perhaps that his manner was too inquisitorial. The fact is, he explained hesitatingly, I was rather quiet coming home in the car last night, and I suppose Lil kept this from me to pay me out. Then some vague suspicion prompted him to wheel round sharply on roper.

Who's invited? he asked. Oh, only the principal members of the company, I understand? Mrs. Upjohn moistened her lips and added, in what she deemed, was a most convincing tone. Yes, only the members of the company, a little says. With Morrie cooling and Vincent Blan thrown in, said Roper. Therein he went too far. Jays fastened on to the admission instantly. You seem to know a lot about it, he growled.

Well, you see I was behind when Morrie was going round to the dressing-rooms. Are you asked? Oh, our... Out with it, man. Are you asked? Oh, yes, they've dragged me into it. Since when have you been a member of the company? No, but dash it all, Nicco, I've done business for Carlton in the city for twenty years or more. That doesn't make you... And I'm an old friend of Lills, remember?

You haven't known her so much longer than I? Why the Blazes doesn't Carlton invite me? Roper was growing hot again. He extended his arms as a little. as though to ward off this big man towering over him my dear nicco he cried i'm not giving the party really you do jump down one's throat sorry sorry jays thrust his hands into his pockets and gazed blankly at the carpet Well, I'll put off my brother and the others. They won't want to sup with me. I shouldn't amuse them. Her birthday, though, it will be the first time I shall have been out of that for how many years, six years? I— His outspoken reverie stopped suddenly, for he had caught the conspirators eyeing each other uncomfortably.

What's up now, he cried. Anything the matter? The matter? repeated Roper, who was beginning to realize the anguish of a detected felon. "'Yes, any game on at my expense?' "'Really, Captain. "'I don't know what you're driving at,' said Mrs. Upjohn, "'who could not keep silent for the life of her. "'Jays was thoroughly aroused now. "'He knew that these two were deceiving him in some way.

"'How long is Lily sitting this afternoon?' he said harshly. "'Till five,' pleaded Mrs. Upjohn. "'He glanced at his watch. "'What's Morgan's number in Fitzroy Street?' "' Sixty.' "'Then I'll just. I'll fetch her. He was making for the door when it was thrown open and Lily entered with a rush. With her came Jimmy Birch and the two girls looked as though they had been hurrying.

Lily tore off her gloves. Whew, I'm dead, she cried. I couldn't stand the heat in the studio any longer mother. Ah, Nicco, extending a careless hand. Then discovering Roper, she offered her cheek for a kiss. Mon uncle, sa va bien, she said with an excellent accent. Miss Birch closed the door. That young man Morgan ought to paint the infernal regents, she declared, he'd like it. I wish he'd finish with the angels first, sighed Lily, taking a scarf off her shoulders. Then, thinking that she might have greeted Jays rather coldly, she gave him a pleasant smile.

You in a better temper today, Nicol? she asked softly. You drove me wild last night, he murmured close to her ear. served you right she said making a little friendly face at him for goodness sake let me lie down and she threw herself on a settee don't come near me any of you give me my fan jimmy where's my fan oh dear i've left it in fitzroy street said her friend beast there's one ear among your presents cried mrs up john going to the writing-table lily unpinned her hat uncle lel what an adorable ring that is you're sent me she said ring i sent you a brooch well somebody has sent me a ring there's three rings announced mrs up john joyously of course said lily one of them is from nico did you get my sweet telegram nicco i had your telegram but it is a pendant i sent you said jay sulkily more than ever annoyed at finding himself put on the same plane as roper jimmy birch did not help the situation but by tittering audibly but lily was not to be disturbed by such trifles you shut up jimmy she said how am i to remember who's given me this pretty thing she went on looking at the fan which she was using vigorously mr monti levine said mrs up john bless him he's a dear little man though he does bite his nails gladys the parlour-maid sailed in followed by vincent bland she did not content herself with announcing a

visitor, but, seeing that her young mistress had returned, viewed her with elevated eyebrows. Oh, are you at home? she said. Lily returned the girl's stare rather amusedly. Apparently, she said. Then I'll whistle up to Maude, Maude being ladies-made in the Upjohn household. Don't, said Lily, if it's too severe a strain on you. Gladys moved away majestically. Mrs. Upjohn called after her. We'll have tea. the parlor maid turned at the door. You can't till it's ready, she announced.

What cheek, said Lily calmly as the girl went out. Vincent Bland, a thin, delicate-looking man, not particularly well-dressed, but carrying himself with distinction, and wearing a monocle as though he were used to it, strolled across the room. You needn't have cut me almost on your doorstep, and why do you retain the services of that golden-haired hussy, he said?

Oh, she's a bit above herself, but she's a perfect servant, and I never saw you, came the convincing answer. Bland allowed his glance to rest fixedly on Roper. Congratulations on your waistcoat, Lowe, he said. Oh, I hate personalities, said Roper gruffly. Lily held out a hand to the composer. Vincent, she said, yours was one of the loveliest presents I've had today. Remmer Cement.

How's that for an accident? scent. Blant dropped his eyeglass. You cat, he hissed. You know I've given you nothing, not even a penny-nosed-gay. Jimmy Birch, who had been chatting with Roper, evidently had an ear for other conversation in the room, because she laughed again truly, and Lily raised herself on an elbow. On my honor, Vincent, dear, I swear I thought, she began. The funds are too low, said Bland, replacing the eyeglass. I did go so far as to price a bangalett selby's but that was before a certain event yesterday what horses did you back vincent inquired miss birch i want a fiver through jerry grimwood roper saw a chance to pay back

bland's reference to the waistcoat you are a patent ass he said loudly why don't you leave bedding alone why don't you leave your city muck alone inquired bland icily lilyly stood up she thought at high time to take more interest in life "'Be quiet, you too,' she said imperiously. "'I won't have any wrangling in my house. "'Run away and play, all of you. "'Vin, come here a minute.' She led him to a corner near the writing table and dropped her voice.

There was no mistaking the intense feeling that vibrated in her next words. "'You have broken your word to me, then? "'You have been following those damned horses again?' "'Bland made a wry face. "'Cooling had a tip from the stable,' he murmured. "'Cooling!' she snapped. "'Mory cooling has no children, only a fat wife. "'You've a darling little wife and three kitties.

"'How much did you drop yesterday?' "'Shant's say,' declared Bland doggedly. "'Oh, Vincent!' she cried, "'and the tears rose unbidden to her eyes. "'The others in the room knew that Lily was lecturing her friend "'and left them alone. "'But Baron von Rittenmeyer entered at that moment "'and marched straight up to Lily,

clicking his heels as he halted in front of her, and bending like a six-foot plank, controlled by a hinge in the middle. Aha, goddess, he murmured. Many happy returns of de day. Hush, said Lily, I'm busy for a moment, Baron. Go and talk to Mother and Jimmy. With pleasure, said Van Rittenmeier. How are you, my dear Ma?

Delighted to see you, Jimmy, my dear robber, my dear Nigolus. He greeted each of them. them in this cheerful strain and jimmy birch promptly mimicked him rober nicholas why don't they provide you with throat lozenges at the embassy she cried under cover of the chatter which broke out lily opened a drawer in the writing-table and produced a check-book after a furtive glance over her shoulder she swept some of the presents aside and signed a check which she tore out and slipped into blanche's hand now promise me she whispered promise me you won't make another bet this year. Bland calmly unfolded the check and scrutinized it. A blank one, he said grimly. Put it in your pocket. Don't fill it in for more than you can help. I'm not over flush. With calm deliberation, he tore the check into four pieces, and, looking at her steadily, put them in his waistcoat pocket. I will keep these lill as long as I keep anything, he said,

though his voice was not so steady as his fingers. She flushed and flared up. you fool vincent she cried my dear do you think but lily stamped her foot she was genuinely vexed such ridiculous pride she flung at him lord what i owe to you and you won't let me help you in a tight place luckily a diversion was created by the entrance of mr samuel de castro whose spats were whiter than ever bland hailed him as a deliverer and de castro lisped his congratulations to lily thanks dear old boy she said nodding at bland to indicate that her vengeance was only deferred did i send you a wire this morning not you not a thickth-pan earth i ought to have done so to acknowledge your now what was it a ring my dear diamonds and thaphyres oh yes beautiful gushed lily who was far too skilled an actress on the stage not to be able to act a little on her own account it is rather a knife ring but i say mind you don't go and tell gaps on any account and de castro's tone became confidential lily raised her eyebrows with a fine assumption of ignorance gabs miss cato why shouldn't i tell her but de castro was too old a bird to be caught in that fashion not thenth he said you know very well you won't will you lily shrugged her pretty shoulders she was minded to tease him i won't if i remember not to she said airily sam became rather alarmed lily was no fool he knew but girls did stupid things occasionally ah now don't be silly he pleaded what's the good o makin mischief

whereupon it is a regrettable fact that miss paradel showed him the tip of her tongue he laughed and von rettmeyer's hand fell heavily on his back my deyre run zem he said what is de jocke lily held out her hand excuse me for cutting you short when you came in baron she said thanks for your splendid present i did send you a wire didn't i von reddenmeyer retained her hand bowed solemnly and kissed it i shall preserve that delagram with other souvenirs till the end of my life he vowed lily withdrew her hand and blew the compliment away but the baron had not done with her yet after a cautious look around he said he had done with her yet after a cautious look around he said he said in an altered tone, Goddess, about my driffling little ovring, I entreat you not to mention it to Enid. Lily burst into a hearty laugh.

What, another of you? she cried. Then she added seriously, Baron, I do wish you boys would make me presents and then ask me to keep it a secret from the other girls. And I, on my bart, I wish it were not necessary, but, goddess, you are also a young lady of dear world,

and you know what women are de charming miss mongrive lily had seen her maid entering so she turned away throwing the enigmatical remark over her shoulder yes and i know what you men are too the maid whom gladys had presumably whistled for rushed at miss paradel with a complete disregard of the assembled company here give me your things she said i was in my room having a lie-down is my hair untidy i've never seen it anything else said Lily, tossing her hat, scarf and gloves to the cheerful Maude, who laughed loudly at her mistress's banter, and then hailed some of the guests. Good afternoon, Miss Jimmy, she said. Afternoon, Mr. De Castro. Turning to her mistress again, she became solicitous for her welfare. Now don't you let them all tire you to death? There's a pet, she cried. Oh, clear out was the unsympathetic answer. As Maude was departing, Lily kicked off her

shoes, pitching them dexterously after the girl. Hi, she cried. Fetch me a pair of slippers. Maud stopped and giggled. At that moment, Gladys entered with a tea-tray, and Lord Farncombe at her heels. The superior parlor maid eyed her fellow domestic scornfully, and tried to wither her on the spot. Oh, you're doing something, are you?

She said. Yes, I'm setting you an example, my girl, answered Maud. Not looking where she was going to, she can't. and against the guardsman beg pardon she said amiably and vanished lily paradel though shoeless was in no wise abashed she tipped out to meet lord farncombe and held out her hand how do you do she said smiling at him in a very friendly way she was beginning to like this young man he differed in many essential ways from the well-to-do idlers who frittered away the best part of their lives in attendance at the pandora theatre he was unassuming diffident, yet frankly an admirer, and his attitude conveyed a grateful sense of the homage that takes no thought for rank. Any other girl in her position would have regarded him as a possible suitor, but Lily refused to look upon her men friends in that light. Still, he had touched some dormant cord in her nature. Not knowing why, she felt rather shy when speaking to him, though he

himself was so bashful that Roper's description of him was by no means far-fetched. He moved swiftly now to meet her and take the proffered hand. I have been here before this afternoon. I ventured to bring you some flowers, he said eagerly. There now, said Lily, nobody told me. How awfully kind of you. Where have they put them? He went to the piano, lifted down his basket of flowers,

and showed it to her with a gentle diffidence that betrayed a lack of experience and such things. Here they are, he said. How pretty, said Lily, pulling out a LaFrance rose and adjusting it in her belt, knowing that she was paying a compliment to the donor. Are you acquainted with most of the people here? He looked around the room. I know nearly everybody I fancy, he said, nodding to Von Rettemeyer and DeCastro. Then his glance fell on Jays, who had worked his way round to the writing table, and was watching the two young people rather sourly, gnawing his mustache the while. How are you Captain Jays? said the Viscount pleasantly.

And you, Mr. Bland, he added. He turned to Lily again. I've been talking to Mrs. Upjohn, and Mr. Roper already, he explained. Lily introduced him to Jimmy Birch, and Farncombe gave additional proof of his lack of acquaintance with theatrical society by essaying an elaborate compliment. I—I need hardly say, he declared, that I am one of Miss Birch's warmest, most profound— The kindly Jimmy came to the rescue. That's all right, Lord Farncombe, she smiled.

Don't you bother about saying nice things? You look them, and that's enough, isn't it, Lily? Somehow the advent of the young Viscount had created an electrical atmosphere in the room. Lily had become more gracious and gave more heed to the niceties of speech. Mrs. Upjohn, Roper, von Rettemeyer, even the volatile Jimmy Birch, were on the quivive to say and do the right thing, and Nicco Jays, already suspicious with regard to some of them, and resentful of the indifference with which he was treated by most of the others, became aware of a new doubt, a new anxiety, which tore him with the ever-ready clause of jealousy. Was this handsome youngster a serious rival? He feared so.

He must be on his guard, and, above all, curb that unruly tongue of his. His brother's advice came back to him. Perhaps he had chosen an unfavorable time for urging his suit with Lily. At any rate, he could only wait and watch. But feeling himself to be little else than an outsider in this frivolous circle, he clenched his fists in sheer impotence. End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8.

of the mind the paint girl this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox dot org the mind the paint girl by louis tracy chapter eight harmonies and some discords the tussle-headed maud came in with a pair of silk slippers and von rettmire who would never be anything but a overgrown boy, rushed at her and grabbed them before she was aware of his intent. Permit me, he said. Maud slapped his arm as if he were an impetuous milkman. Now, barren, she giggled, and there was quite a little struggle between them until he ran her out of the room. Then he cried, holding the capture triumphantly aloft,

Gentlemen, let us pay homage to beauty. Follow me, all of you, Zam, Vincent, Robert, Nigo, Eddie, line up. Jays deliberately seated himself at a distance, and Farncombe, who was decidedly embarrassed, hung back, but the others obeyed joyously. Jimmy Birch clapped her hands with appreciation, and Mrs. Upjohn, who was pouring out the tea, laughed herself into a fit of coughing. Von Rettnmeier, putting a hand to his mouth, imitated a brass band with drum effects. Then, changing to the staccato commands of a German drill instructor he shouted. Links, right, lynx, right, quig marge, and headed the procession round the room.

Baron, you great baby, cried Lily, blushing scarlet at the mock ceremony proposed in her honor. Roper, seeing that the young Viscount was not in the queue, cried gleefully, Come along, Farncombe! And Miss Birch encouraged him with a dig in the ribs, whereupon he too joined in the revel van rettmire thoroughly in his element when engaged in this sort of nonsense waved the slippers in air and began to sing in a rich full baritone weeb was istin aller welte dear and shonhite gleextelt rise and flossen wonder hold pearl de shep-fong hurlsing gold tags gedan khanken trom de nacht shweb in om dish, sooth, saught, venus, signin makin but, der Dain's clav, daintest berate. The following is a free translation.

Woman, earth holds not more dear, you alone can be your peer. Charming, graceful, in full measure, rarest pearl, hearts, fondest treasure. My waking thoughts, my dreams by night, hover round you, vision bright. venus bid me but to stay your slave for ever and a day he timed the promenade so adroitly that when the end of his song was reached he was on one knee before lily she entering laughingly into the frolic extended her left foot and he kissed her in step before adjusting the slipper being rewarded with a light box on the ears he made way for di castro handing him the remaining slipper and he made way for de castro handing him the remaining slipper and he made way for de castro handing the remaining slipper and he made way for and the literary celebrity performed the same rite with much impressment whereupon lily dexterously upset his balance bland and roper perforce contented themselves by kissing her in step but when the girl found farncombe looking at her hesitatingly she raised her eyes to his in a distinctly self-conscious way and withdrew her foot no no she murmured shaking her head decisively don't you be silly like the others tea cried mrs upjohn loudly ma might be tactless enough in speech but being a woman she had a sharp eye where flirtation was concerned

moreover she was rather alarmed by the attitude jays had seen fit to adopt and her timely interruption scattered the group of laughing men gladys had brought in a stand containing cakes and other delicacies and roper seized it strutting around the room and mimicking the voice of the voice of the voice of the of a theatre attendant. Isis, he chanted, sweets or chocolates, coffee, and full piano score of the opera. But Mrs. Upjohn was still watching Jay's furtively.

Captain, she said, Ain't you going to have any tea? No thank you, Mrs. Upjohn, he replied, affecting to examine some present which was claiming his attention. Lily, blissfully unaware of this morose attitude on Jay's part,

made room for Farncombe, by her side on the sette. You have seen our show at the Pandora a good many times, she said, smiling at him. Twenty-three, he replied instantly. Not really, and her eyebrows arched with astonishment. Yes, I haven't missed a night this week and last. There was no mistaking the admiration in his eyes, so she turned lightly to a new topic.

You are in the guards, are you not, she asked. Yes, the grenadiers. "'Ah,' she said smilingly, "'you'll never do a braver deed "'than enduring our antics at the Pandora twenty-three times.' "'Oh, I like you better every time I see you, Miss Paradel,' he ventured to say. "'Good gracious, I had no idea I was so versatile,' she cried. "'But, er, I do not mean in the character you assume on this stage.

"'I go to the Pandora only to watch you. "'I fancy somehow that you're just yourself when you are singing and dancing, There is no make-believe about you. I'm a bad hand at explaining myself, but—' He halted confusedly, and Lily was aware that she, too, felt absurdly tongue-tied. Miss Birch suddenly choked. Her mouth was full of cake, and she was trying to laugh. Boys, she cried, appealing with a gesture for time, to regain her breath.

Wait a minute. I've swallowed some of the barons' German. There, it's gone down with a large race. But honestly, boys, no rot. I want to propose a toast. And she raised her teacup. Here's a jolly good health to Lily. She's a white woman, Lily is, the staunchest, truest pal when she takes a liking. Jimmy's voice failed her again, though not because of cake on this occasion. And Mrs. Upjohn, unexpectedly yielding to emotion, rose and embraced her daughter. And the best girl breathing, she cried tremulously. have any of you noticed the dress i'm wearin this afternoon fifteen guineas it's coster madame godolphin made it and i ought to go with it ong sweet the good lady deaf to lily's plaintive hush mother paraded before them showing off the points of her gown but jimmy birch came to the rescue by lifting her teacup again here's to lily in a cup of tea she cried the toast was honoured with enthusiasm and lily murmured brokenly that she thanked them from the bottom of her heart jimmy birch however was strung up to an intense pitch of excitement and meant to have her say willy-nilly

by jove she went on lill saved me once from going home to a cheap lodging and taking a dose of rat-killer a pity a great biddy murmured von rettenmeyer taking care to be well out of range "'I'll attend to you presently, Baron,' said Miss Birch. "'But listen, all of you. It was my first morning at the Pandora. They'd had me up from Harrogate in a hurry to take Gweney Harker's place. I'd been playing her part in the number two company in the country, and she had left them in a hole to get married to a stupid lord—' She broke off to smile sweetly at Farncombe. Sorry, she cried. I forgot you were one. A lord, I mean.

I was only to have one rehearsal, and, oh, didn't they treat me abominably? Eva Shafto was late, and we were all hanging about on the stage waiting for her. I've never felt so cold in my life, nor so lonely. Not a word of welcome, not a nod from a single soul. Simply a blank stare occasionally from a haughty beauty with a curled lip. And at last, when I was on the point of howling, I became conscious that somebody was watching me, a tall, pretty thing in a lavender frock. I caught her eye, and she came straight over and sat down beside me. Shaky, she said. A corpse, said I, and she quietly took my hand and

held it till Eva Shafto condescended to stroll in. When I got up, I asked her who she was. Oh, my God, I said, I'll never forget your kindness. Why, of course, you're the mind-the-paint-girl. The tremulous little speech might almost have been a stage cue. Roper, Di Castro, and von Rettemeyer instantly began singing the famous chorus, and Vincent Bland rushed to the piano and thumped out the air. There were tears in Lily's eyes, for she knew just how her friend had felt on that miserable morning. But almost unconsciously, her body began to sway to the rhythm of the tune. "'Sing it for us, Lil, won't you?' pleaded Roper.

stood up pressing her hands to her temples oh i couldn't it's gone she cried but bland understanding the soul of the artist played the introductory symphony and waited silently some of the men moved chairs and tables out of the way and lily began to sing i've a very charming dwelling you know where without the telling decorated in a style that's rather quaint smart and quaint when you pay the house a visit You may scrutinize or quiz it, but you mustn't touch the paint, brand new paint. Mind the paint, mind the paint, no matter whether Maples' bills are settled or they ain't. Once you smear it or you scratch it, it's impossible to match it, so take care, please, of the paint, of the paint. The piano dashed off into a dance movement, and the girl, yielding to the subtle call of the music, danced a few steps most gracefully, while Jimmy Burr, promptly marshalled her three supporters as a chorus and thereby added an impromptu stage setting that was very effective again the piano halted expectantly and lily sang the second verse

i'm possessed of all the graces oh a perfect dream my faces it may owe to art a trifle or it mayn't hmm it mayn't and i'll cry out for assistance should you fail to keep your distance goodness gracious mind the paint, mind the paint. Mind the paint, mind the paint. A girl is not a sinner just because she's not a saint. But my heart shall hold you dearer. You may come a little nearer if you'll only mind the paint, mind the paint. This time Mrs. Upjohn sang and postured with the others. Bland was in the humor to carry the girl through the whole of the song,

but Lily flung herself onto a settee and laughingly held up her hands and protest. No more if you love me, she cried. No, not another word. I've had such a stiff day. Whereupon Ma recollected her guardian role and assumed it with sudden energy. Out you go, all of you, out you go, she cried. Come on, said Miss Birch, shaking hands with Farncombe, let's misl. It's cruel of us to tire her so. Mrs. Upjohn tapped von Rettnmeyer familiarly on the shoulder with an infatheum Now then, Baron, he bowed profoundly. I'm goming, he said. Well, gome, tittered Jimmy Birch, and pulled him away. Still, Mrs. Upjohn maintained her

dragon-like attitude. You too, Mr. Di Castro, she cried, catching Sam's eye. However, do you think she's going to get through her work tonight? DeCastro was rather breathless after his recent exertions. Quite right, ma, he agreed. Ethepethily, with a thupper and a d'anth afterworth. Roper turned on him as a terrier might dash after a rabbit. You damned fool, he breathed. De Castro clapped his hand to his mouth. Oh, he muttered.

Nor did he mend matters in the slightest degree by glancing at Jays, who had heard what he said, and now strode forward ponderously. Goodbye, Nicco, said Roper uneasily. and de Castro's farewell was equally flurried. Good-bye, said Jays dryly, with a look that spoke volumes. Bland, talking to Lily, was blissfully unaware of De Castro's slip. Ah, that jingle, he said pensively, an echo of old times, eh? Yes, but not better times than these, Vin, she murmured affectionately.

He fondled her hand for a moment. No, Lil, there are so many tunes left for you in life, my dear little. dear. And the monocle lost all its cynicism for the moment. She would have made some impulsive reply, but Viscount Farncombe had come to bid her farewell. Thank you. Thank you very much, he said fervently. It was glorious. I really ought to be ashamed of myself, she said, seized with sudden timidity. But I was carried away when I heard Vincent strumming the piano. It reminded me of the first time we rehearsed that song together. Oh, I mean every word I said, protested Farncombe.

Tish, she cried lightly. See you again soon, perhaps? Yes, yes, of course. Roper, alert now to stop any further disclosures called to him. The young man looked round the room and saw that Nicco was standing near the entrance to the conservatory. Goodbye, Captain Jays, he cried agreeably. The other turned on hearing the voice. Goodbye, he nodded with a quiet.

its smile. Farncombe shook hands with Mrs. Upjohn. I've had a delightful afternoon, he said, really, I've enjoyed myself amazingly. Oh, we're always glad when a few folks pop in, said Ma, though she slightly spoiled the effect of a gracious remark by adding, if they don't overstay their welcome. Naturally, goodbye, and Farncombe vanished hurriedly. Mrs. Upjohn meant to clear everybody out. You too, Captain. she said, waiting at the door. In one minute, he said, I want just half a dozen words with Lily. Nah, you won't keep her longer? persisted Ma,

feeling that she was doing her best on behalf of the conspiracy. No, no, said Jays grimly. I know she won't be home till four o'clock tomorrow morning at the earliest. Mrs. Upjohn was vanquished and went out. So Smythe is giving you a grand feed tonight at the theatre I hear, he said, watching Lily rearranging various cushions in a housewifely way. Yes, in the foyer, she replied. And a dance, it appears.

She yawned unaffectedly. It was quite clear that the matter held small interest for her. Who told you, grumpy, she demanded. Roper and your mother told me about the supper. You didn't. Well, Nicco, you were in such a vile mood last night coming home. Who will you dance with tonight, he asked. She glanced round at him rather more alertly.

Obviously she wondered what was troubling him. Members of the company, of course, she said. That doesn't sound very inspiring. Rather school treaty, isn't it? This by way of comment, while patting a refractory cushion. Nobody from outside, he went on. No, it's only the men in the theatre and the principal ladies. Roper's going, said Jays.

Well, Nicco, Low's hardly from a-o. outside. Andy Castro. Sam? Is he really? I'm sure of it from something I heard him saying just now. Lily weighed the point judiciously for a second. Sam used to finance Carlton. I suppose they reckon him one of us. Jays plunged his hand into his coat pockets. It was his characteristic gesture when beginning to feel annoyed. Smyth might have extended the compliment to me, he said. He knows how I stand towards you. I'm awfully sorry, I can't help it, she protested. But don't you see, if Roper and De Castro are asked, there may be others. Oh, dear, she sighed, obviously weary of a trivial discussion, and wholly unaware that

Nicco's jaws were set in a scowl. Some of the more juvenile boys, perhaps, he muttered. I say, Lil, when did you make the acquaintance of the young sprig of nobility who has been here this afternoon. The girl appeared then to wake up to the fact that there was more in this casual chat than met the eye. Lord Farncombe, she said quietly. Bertie Fulkerson introduced him to me one day not so long ago. So he's at your feet now, came the angry comment. Poo! cried Lily, turning away disdainfully. Oh, you may say poo as often as you like. He's in front every blessed night. There he sits. row b three stalls from the end prompt sighed you're too entertaining for words surely there are a few good-looking girls at the pandora besides your humble servant she was facing him now and rather inclined to be vexed a scene was the last thing she had anticipated when he remained in the room after the others had gone rubbish he exclaimed his glass follows you all over the stage he's infatuated i watched him talking to you just now

did you indeed her contemptuous tone stirred him to more outspoken anger and his clenched hands beat on the back of his chair god in heaven he cried first it's one and then it's another all of em chasten you and i'm powerless oh you're maddening nico she said despairingly you are positively maddening the other night it was stuy hennyage you chose to be jealous of simply because you'd heard him sounding my praises at katanis You went on so that you almost broke the windows of the car. I confess, I object to Heneage or any man, raving about you at the top of his voice in a public place. Jays was inclined to be pompous at such moments, and thus unfortunately dissipated the very atmosphere he was striving to create. Snakes alive, she cried.

Why shouldn't Stewie rave about me in a public place if he feels like it? I belong to the public. He might rave about a girl who's a jolly sight less deserving of, it as a girl and an artist than I am. Well, he allowed, we'll dismiss Heneage. She saw her advantage and pressed it to the uttermost. Yes, exit Stewie and enter somebody else for you to fuss and fume about. This afternoon it's Lord Farncombe, and tomorrow it'll be Lord Tom Nottie, and next day the Marquise Grabal. One would think to hear you that I don't know how to take care of myself or to deal with any boy who loses his head over me.

you're growing worse and worse with your jealousy nico stop it i'm surprised at you after all these years it's beginning to fret me and that's bad for my spirits and bad for me in business she had wandered to the tea-table and thoughtlessly picked up a piece of bread and butter which she began to eat and now you're making me spoil my dinner she added though not without a touch of humorous dismay in her voice and you know that's not good for me either you brute jay sat down heavily his hands hung loosely between his knees and he muttered with an air of utter dejection oh lily lily yes oh lily lily she mimicked him why don't you put me out of my misery he said blurting out the first haphazard words that shape themselves in his disturbed mind poison you she inquired munching the bread and butter marry me there he had done it and was at once miserably conscious of having burlesque the passion that was consuming him marry you she repeated with unfeigned wonder still not taking him seriously creeping behind his chair she drew a pocket-handker from his breast pocket and wiped her fingers daintily have you come to tell me you've got some work to do at last she went on cruel in her heedless sarcasm break the news gently nico the shock might be too great for me oh i'd find a billet soon enough lill if only i had an incentive to hunt for it he urged brokenly incentive how long is it since i was willing to engage myself to you absolutely if i had an incentive to hunt for it he urged brokenly incentive how long is it since i was willing to engage myself to you absolutely if you you could obtain a good secretaryship, or something of the sort?

Three thousand a year, the folly of it. She little dreamed how that unctuous phrase was drumming in his ears, but he was moved to defend himself. Jays might always be depended on to find a convincing excuse for himself. I've no fancy for a beggarly secretaryship, he grunted. She was seized then, with an unreasoning anger against him. Why should he, why should any man think he had a right to spoil a pleasant afternoon in this fashion? She threw the handkerchief to him and turned away.

No, she said mercilessly. All you have a fancy for, seemingly, is to loaf about London and worry your unfortunate people. How a man of your age can rest satisfied with your present position passes my dull comprehension. I have been a bit slack, he owned. i have been a bit leisurely but now he looked up and fancied which was true that she was hardly listening she had gone to the piano and was inhaling the fragrance of the roses farncombe had sent her the sense of contrast between the two men was assuredly accountable for the bitter words she flung at jays now nicco she said that pendant or whatever it is you've given me i don't want to hurt you but i won't accept it please take it away with you do you hear lel he muttered i'm in earnest horribly in earnest you'll remove it off my premises the very sound of her voice giving a ruthless command in that precise way startled her. She relented instantly and stole a little nearer to the stricken man in the chair.

He felt that her stormy mood was yielding and lifted his head again. My eldest brother, Bob, he said, has been at me to go to Rhodesia. He wants me to manage a group of stock farms he's interested in near Bulawayo. First rate, and why don't you go? The innocent question cut deeper than she intended. "'Rodija, Buluueo,' he said with a dismal smile. "'Will you come with me?' "'Nico, don't be absurd.' The mere suggestion seemed to alarm her,

and Jays, who was no weakling, sprang up and put his hands on her shoulders, exactly as he had done on that memorable day, now so long ago, when first he asked her to marry him. "'You wouldn't care a straw, not a brass farthing if I did go, would you, Lil?' he asked. She had discussed some such problem with him many times, but his evidence suffering softened her. Stuff, she said, toying with a button of his waistcoat, I would miss you horribly. Who'd bring me home at night, then, and take me anywhere I want to go? Ah, who, who?

His grip tightened, and she winced. Don't she cried, you'll bruise my skin if you're not careful? He took one of her hands and stroked it gently. Well, it might be that you'd do that you'd. miss me for a while, he said. Miss the old dog you're accustomed to find lying on your doormat. But you don't love me, Lil, not even as much or as little as you did a year ago. You don't love me. She had never seen him in quite such a saddened mood, but she answered candidly with a faint shrug of her shoulders. Perhaps I don't in the way you mean. Perhaps it's not

in me to love anybody in a marrying way. Suddenly their eyes met and her speech faltered. still as you say she began as i say he cried and hope glimmered within him the fact is i'm accustomed to you it dawned on him that this was a moment fraught with potentialities alas he had been vouchsaved many only to spurn them and he endeavoured to draw her close in his arms but she wriggled free and with the self-possessed laugh of a woman who did not know what love meant put a playful finger on the crown of her head. There, you may there, she cried, stooping while he kissed her hair. Now I must run upstairs, or mother will whack me. Still, he hungered for her and would not release her. Won't you allow me to fetch you after the dance, he said, at three or four in the morning, no, dear boy, I'll give you a rest. Uncle Lall or Sam will take on your job, and don't try to see me to-morrow. Why not, he demanded sharply, ready,

has ever to probe, to suspect, not till you turn up at night as usual, I mean, she explained mischievously. I shall be a shocking rag all day. Yes, he thundered, with an ungovernable access of fury. I expect you'll manage to enjoy yourself thoroughly, and dance yourself off your feet, whoever your partners may be. She tossed her head woefully. I expect I shall, she laughed. Ha, i'll certainly do my best and with that she was gone blissfully ignorant of the fact that this parting shot was destined to fire a mine which would explode at her very feet for in ordinary circumstances jays would not have stooped to any form of deceit or subterfuge even to counteract the plans of others deterred by no such scruples but he was aflame with resentment against roper and de castro and quivering with a sense of abject failure in the undertaking on which he had built so hopefully. He strode resolutely to the telephone on the writing table and placed the receiver to his ear. Gerard 3848, he said,

While waiting for a response, he saw that Lily had left the door wide open. With a certain furtiveness that seemed oddly out of place in one of his stalwart frame, he laid down the receiver, crept to the door, and closed it. Then he hurried back to the telephone. Then he hurried back to the telephone that the pandora theatre he asked changing his voice with an expertness which would indubitably have amused and surprised lily if she had heard he imitated de castro's lisp it's mr morris cooling in i'm mr de castro sam de castro gone is he oh is that you mr hickson yes you'll do about the supper party to-night that mr smyth is giving to miss paradel i didn't quite you mr quite understand whether it's to be at the theater or at the restaurant. At the theater. Oh, yes. A large party. Oh, that is nice. Who is a guest? Do you know? Yes. Yes? Oh, and the boys. Oh, some of the boys are coming, are they? A? You haven't got the

list for Mr. Roper yet? Oh, he's been helping to get it up. Then we shall have a splendid time. boys, yes, yes, ha ha, thanks, goodbye. Replacing the receiver, he walked slowly out with bent head and hands clasped behind his back, and the expression of his face was that of a man who had plumbed the depths of despair. End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of The Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Libravox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain.

or to volunteer, please visit librivox.org. Recording by Christine. The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy. Chapter 9 There was no rest for Lily Paradel that afternoon. The unusual attitude Jays had seen fit to adopt had frightened and distressed her a good deal more than he had any inkling of. She felt, too, in an uncanny way, that some new influence had come into her life.

It seemed as if she had suddenly grown older. This was her 23rd birthday. Tomorrow, her age would be 23 years and one day. Already, she was in her 24th year. Twenty-four. She was counting in that lacrimose fashion. Why, at that age, most of the nice girls she knew were either married or thinking seriously of matrimony. Was she an exception to that rule? And was it really true that she was destined to marry Nico Jays? Did she want to marry him?

Come now, answer that question, honestly. Well, if it must be answered, no. A thousand times, no. Did she want to marry anybody? No, not yet, but when the time came that she must decide, once and for all, the gravest problem that can present itself to a woman, what sort of man would she select as a husband? Again, the image of Nico Jays became insistent, and tears rose unbidden to her eyes when she discovered, almost with fear, that she could not endure the prospect of sharing the intimacy of married life with Nico. With whom then? She was acquainted with dozens of eligible young men, some among them only too ready to respond to the slightest sign of her favor.

But was there one to whom she could go with that perfect trust in confidence, which a wife should place in her husband? Well, perhaps there was one, a man whose adoring glance had never appraised her good looks with that bold scrutiny of the restaurant and the street, which had often brought an angry flesh to her brows and a steely light to her blue eyes. But, heavens above, what would Nico say? Had she really plighted her word to him? She shivered a little at the thought, though instantly came the assurance that she had been perfectly fair with him. They might have been married years ago, had he so willed, but he did not. She understood now that he had refused deliberately to entertain the notion of marriage at a time when she would have gone to him

gratefully, if not with that abandonment of passion to which some women yielded, even if she herself had not fallen a victim to it, yet. And so it came to pass that her maid found her lying in her bedroom, gazing wide-eyed at the ceiling, when she ought to have been dozing comfortably. "'What? Ain't you asleep?' demanded the sympathetic Maud. "'Moy! If Mrs. Up John knew she would go on.'

"'Then don't tell her,' said Lily Crassley. "'Shart,' declared the untidy one. "'What dress will you wear to-night, my old green? "'But I mean for the dance.' "'Oh, anything will do.' "'Indeed it won't. And on your birthday, too, with no end of a fine spread in your honour. I'll pack your white satin.

And please tell that dresser at the theatre that if she, Will you hold your tongue? Broken Lily. During a few minutes there was silence, in the matter of speech only, since Maude was clattering the doors of wardroves and causing a dress basket to squeak and torture. Maud! cried Lily suddenly. Yes, miss. At any other time, Maude would have said,

Yes, dear. But she had been momentarily quelled by some new quality in her mistress's voice. Just run round to the florist in Tottenham Court Road with a basket of white and pink roses you'll find on the piano. It has Lord Farncombe's card on it, and ask the dear man to oblige me by making it into a bouquet. I shall have plenty of flowers given me tonight. I have no doubt, but I fancy those roses. Oh, his lordship will be placed. and gladys says he is such a nice young gentleman cried the maid as it happens his lordship will know nothing whatever about it he won't be there can't i have a bouquet made up to my liking without being cross-examined as to the why and the wherefore sorry said marred

i'll go this minute now lie still there's a dear you have plenty of time and your dress is all ready you will look a picture to-night it's such a pity lord farncomb can't see you Lily dawdled in her room till the last moment possible, because she dreaded her mother's questioning, especially when Ma set eyes on the dismantled basket and learnt its reason. She could not guess that Mrs. Upjohn, uneasied in mind because of the plot to oust Jays from the party, was secretly anxious to avoid uttering a word about it. Lest said soonest mended was one of the late lamented upjohn's pet aphorisms. Consequently, if the captain made a roeastern, tomorrow on account of his exclusion, Ma wished to have Lily, at least, as a witness that the

matter was never discussed between them. So they kissed and parted without any reference to the bouquet, but Ma had confided to Mrs. Upjohn full details of the visit to the florists long before Lily's car had reached the theater. Luigi, the presiding genius at Katanis, had given the best of his unrivaled skill to the preparations for the night's amusement, helped by several trained waiters and a small army of stage hands pressed into service for the hour, he converted the foyer of the theater into a sumptuous supper room. Within a few minutes after the last playgoer had quitted the dress circle, the spacious refreshment room was swept and garnished with additional furniture, hangings, and flowers. Four round tables were laid for a supper party of 26, and the bar counter

was converted into a sumptuous sideboard. Luigi himself, a little dark, active man, seemed to be everywhere at once, and his deft-handed murmured. were working like navvies when Maurice cooling, the Pandora's business manager and General Factotum strolled in after casting up the Knights accounts. He was obviously surprised by the metamorphosis already affected. It is an unwritten law in the theatrical world that its coolings shall be of imposing presence. They are never seen except in immaculate evening dress. They wear the shiniest of silk hats and display vast expanses of shirtfront. This particular representative of the tribe and no wise departed from its traditions, either in manner or appearance. He was tall in

portly and bent over the diminutive Italian with a ponderous air of approval. By Jove Luigi, he said, you have soon made a change here. Evidently you study stage settings and your profession the same as we do. Let me see now. I have a plan at the table somewhere, and cards with the guest's names on him. Now, here we are. And he produced the exhibits from a pocket. Shall I interfere with your arrangements if I go round and allot the various people's seats? Not in their least, sir. Everything is ready. I hope you think the tables look nice. While speaking, Luigi made some cabalistic signs with his hands, and every waiter disappeared as though by magic. Not bad, said cooling, absorbed in the work of sorting out the cards.

Not half bad. Now, I must it mix things. Colonel Stead off and Miss Connathy. Where are you, Miss Conniffy? Oh, there you are, my dear. And he stooped across one of the tables. Luigi smiled. He would have sorted out the cards of the dexterity of a conjurer, but leaving cooling to the task, he too vanished.

Roper bustled in from an outer landing. Hello, Marie. He cried, cutting a caper. A merry Christmas and a happy new year, and how are you tomorrow? Hello, lull, said cooling, deep in his study of the plan, and searching seriously for another card. He frowned and seemed inclined to abandon the job for a moment, but apparently made up his mind to go on with it. Roper surveyed the spread with marked approval.

He pranced from one table to another and found everything perfect. Splendid, he cried. Sit in a may? Which do you make your principal table? is it. You're at it now, said cooling testily. Being a big, slow-thinking man, he disliked disturbing influences when occupied in such an arduous duty as a present one. Roper bent and examined some of the cars already placed on the serviettes. Miss Lily Paradel, he read, and his jaw fell. Why, have you gone and put the Baron on her right? Well, what's the objection? demanded cooling.

But where's Farncombe? Where the doce have you put Lord Farncombe? On the other side, with Dolly Steadoff and Enid, O rats. Kuling was nettled and grieved, to think that he had taken the trouble. Look here, lull, he growled.

What do you mean by rats? And why do you come bothering about when one is busy? But my dear, Dear fellow, Miss Paradel is the heroine of the party. The site next to her is the state of honour. Exactly so, and that's why I've put the Baron there. Isn't he a distinguished foreigner? And with things as they are between England and Germany.

Oh, blow, Germany! If Germany doesn't like it, she must lump it. Lord Vancombe's eldest son of an Earl, you can't get over that. Besides, the Baron is sweet on England. here just now. I'm sure he'd prefer. Cooling sorted out a card ungraciously. Oh, have it your own way, he said. Thanks, old man. Sorry I was shirty, muttered Roper. But the bulky manager of the Pandora harbored another grievance against his interfering friend, who must be crushed forthwith, or the tables would never be arranged in time. He laid down the plan and cards

and extracted a letter from his waistcoat pocket. By the by-law. Lall. He said, adjusting a pair of pants, nay. The fair Lily, the heroine of the party, as you call her, is in a pretty tantrum over the whole business. Somebody has gone and mixed things nicely. It isn't my fault. What's up now? Demanded Roper, craning his neck to peer at the letter which cooling was unfolding.

Listen, my boy, I had this from her ten minutes ago. It is headed. my dressing room 1115, 80 degrees with the windows open. I should think so indeed. If the thermometer registered her temperature, it must have been never 160. My eye, what's wrong? cried Roper, though his heart misgave him, for he guessed what was coming. You'll soon know. And the big man began to read, Mori, you pig!

Whereupon Roper whistled, Mori, you pig, I should feel deeply indebted to you if you would kindly inform me why the devil you went out of your way to deceive me last night. You led me to suppose, and so did that lying worm, lull, Roper. Kooling paused impressively and glanced at the stockbroker over the rims of his glasses. Do you hear? That's you, he said. Oh, Lord, muttered Roper. Kooling resumed his reading, mouthing each word with much gusto. That lying worm, Loll roper. Uncle Lall bridled and flushed. All right, he said stiffly. You need you rob it in. She means me right enough. His friend,

satisfied with the point scored, took up the thread of the letter again. You both led me to suppose that this rotten banquet was to be a family gathering of the ladies and gentlemen of the Pandora theatre and no outsiders asked. Now I find that only three or four men of the company are invited, and I hear from Nita Trivana that several of the boys are to be laid on for the occasion. The result is, you have made me tell a regular whopper to a particular friend of mine with regard to this affair. Oh, cricky, Nico Jays, breathed a roper, which I will never forgive you for, red cooling. Neither you nor lull Roper.

As true as I am alive, I have a jolly good mind not to show up, but to put on my old rags and go straight home. You are two cats, so take it out of that, and believe me always yours, affectionately, lill. Roper began to hop about the room. Remained still he could not. For speech invariably galvanized him into action. Well, I'm blessed, he groaned, realized. that if there was one thing worse than having Lily's opinion read to him,

it was to receive it from the lady herself when next they met. Cooling returned the letter to his pocket. It's a tasty document, isn't it? He said, thoroughly gratified at sight of Roper's distress. A lying worm and a cat, gurgled the little man. And from Miss Lily Margaret up done! Now, who'd have thought it? Have you done anything about it?

No, I waited for you. You are responsible. What I did last night was simply to oblige a pal. I had better run round her dressing room and try to smooth her down, hadn't I? Said Roper, irresolutely. Cooling went on, ostentatiously sorting out cards. Perhaps you had, he said. Then he added, apparently as an afterthought, Why you wanted to mislaid the girl, I can't for the life of me, understand.

Roper flared up instantly. It was bad enough to have to have. ugly things written about him by Lily Paradel, but he considered it the height of ingratitude on Cooling's part to reproach him with a mismanaged scheme in which they had shared equally. Damn it all! He cried. You agreed that that socky brute Jays would be what the bearing calls him a wet blanket. You blow a hot and called you do, and what's more? I didn't notice that Lily omitting your name from her choice communication.

There you go. More filthy temper. said cooling calmly. If ever I assist in getting up another party, began a roper in a rage, but he checked the outburst when Carlton Smith entered. Instantly he was all smiles, and tragedy gave place to low comedy in his manner. Hello, Carlton!

He cried. Here we are again. All change for Oxford Circus. Hello, said Smith. Helping to titivate the place, I see. Where are you off to? Because Roper was making for the door. I want to have a word with Lily Parodale. And the stockbroker fled. He had no desire whatever to let Smith into the secret of

Lily's annoyance, because the proprietor of the Pandora might have disapproved strongly of any discrimination being exercised against the leading lady's friends without her knowledge. How are you tonight, Chief? said cooling, fumbling and a pocket and producing a long slip of paper. What do you think of that for tonight's house, and the weather dead against us? Smith smiled his approval of the figures. Capital, he said, but there's no bad weather for a good play. I'll go and have a wash in brush-up. He turned to the door, but should have made it escape a moment earlier, because a number of men, whom he was compelled to agree affably sauntered in. He had just got

clear of them when De Castro appeared and buttonholed him promptly. I say, called him, whispered the newcomer mysteriously. I have been in front again tonight. It's a magnificence, marvelous. Smith gazed resignedly at the convertible diamond stud blazing in De Castro's shirt. It'll do, he agreed. I shall get a couple of years out of it. I just want a wash and brush. But De Castro held him firmly. There's only one little. improvement I'd like to see, if I may suggest it. What's that?

Keeping hold of Smith's coat until he had linked an arm, De Castro sank his voice even lower. Your third, you won't consider me presumptuous. My dear fellow, of course not. It's very kind of you. De Castro brought his mouth as close as possible to Smith's ear, standing on Tipto for the purpose. If you could give Gab's, Miss Cato, a time. tiny bit more to do in the second act. He confided. Oh, yes, yes, nodded Carlton.

She's a little lump of talent if you only realized it. A perfect little lump of talent. Smith disengaged himself gently and tried to get away. I'll think it over, he said pleasantly, but De Castro followed him up. Will you, an extra song, that's all it needs to be. Just one extra song. Oh, it will be. such an improvement.

Seeing von Retton-Mayer coming, he thought to strengthen his claim somewhat, if only by the merest hint of the Tatjay's agreement with his own views. Ah, here's the Baron, he lisped. We've been sitting together, I am the Baron. Then he caught Smith's hand and rung it warmly. Thanks, thanks, I'm awfully obliged. Glad to see you, Baron, said Smith, turning to von Retton-Mayer. The blonde German bowed,

So good of you to haf me, he said. Well, excuse me now, I'm just going to wash my hands. Began Smith, but his star was not in the ascendant in that hour, because von Rett and mayor also detained him. Pardon, one moment. He said, lowering his guttural voice to the same confidential note as that adopted by DeCastro. May I dug the liberty of indulging in a little criticism of your excellent

play. Certainly, said Smith, with that wonderful smile of his, which promised so much and meant so little. Come here, and the Baron drew him away from the tables. The second act. His manner was so serious that the proprietor of the Pandora was actually beguiled into taking some notice of it. The second act, he repeated, the part where de charming Miss Padadell is changing her costume. Yes, yes, was the answer. That's where the piece requires lifting, lifting. And he accompanied the words with an expressive gesture. Lifting, repeated Smith, now decidedly puzzled. So, the comedians are clever, extremely clever.

And again, a wheedling arm caught the managers. But if you could see your way clear to give in it, Miss Moncriff, another dance. Ah, just so. It was evident now how the peace was to be lifted. It would remove the solidarity imperfection, pursued the Baron. I'll think it over, promised Smith, releasing himself once more. I'm just going to wash my hands. We'll talk about it later. Shudson Dunk, cried von Retton-Mayer, confident that he had at last gained his point.

But the hapless Smith only contrived to run full tilt into two new arrivals. Colonel the Honorable Arthur Stidolf and his wife. Mrs. Stidolf, a mature but still beautiful woman, was dressed in the height of fashion and wore rather too many jewels. The material of her evening gown was of the exact tint of her skin, and the effect of the diamonds sparkling on the corsage was rather startling until one perceived that they were not pinned on her flesh, but secured in the ordinary way.

Colonel Stidulf looked a little more faded, a little more weary than on the day when Nico Jays met him outside St. James Palace, but his wife was still, as ever, Dolly and Zor, and she greeted Smith with a kiss, following up this somewhat pronounced method of showing her pleasure by saying effectively, How lucky that I'm able to come to you tonight, it's so difficult to catch me in the season. Have you been in front? asked her old employer, easily evading this artless desire for sympathy because of the excessive demands of society on her time. instantly her manner changed and her stilted voice took on a note of boredom yes oh yes smith understood that sort of reply from one who had been in the profession what don't you like it he cried genuinely surprised oh i don't say i dislike it and mrs didolph shrugged her plump shoulders affectedly but one can't forget what one used to do here in the old days her husband who could never

accustomed himself to Dolly and Zor's social lapses, broken graciously, if rather nervously. I've had a most enjoyable evening, Carlton. The performance is so bright, so very bright, it quite takes one out of oneself. Mrs. Stidolph was moved to sneer at him. Oh, anything pleases you, she said with an unpleasant guffar. You'd laugh at Punch and Judy. I'm just running away to wash my hands, explained Smith. You know, von Rettnmayer, and he caught the Baron's eye despairingly. Know him, cried Mrs. Stidolph. Why, he was about in my time, my dear Carl.

Von Rettin-Mayer's heels clicked loudly, and he doubled up in profound obeisance. My dear lady, he murmured. What blitz? The Pestered Smith was actually halfway through a set of folding doors when he encountered Folkerson and Farncombe. fulkerson who had been dining extensively and whining no less introduced lord farncombe with much ceremony and smith seemed to be in for another conversation when fulkerson espying mrs stidolph created a diversion by hailing her uproariously by jove if it isn't dolly ensor he cried what cheer dole and he hurried up with outstretched hand mrs stidolph thought at high time to assert her dignity she gave him a stiff little knolle and said coldly. How do you do, Mr. Fulkerson?

For a second or two, he was actually abashed. I, oh, I'm pretty middling. I hope you're the same. He stammered. Farncom, who had been watching him, was obviously disconcerted, and Smith explained to him, too, that his hands needed washing, but only found himself face to face with Gabrielle Cato, a pretty young woman whose fretful little face was expressive of extreme dissatisfactory,

action with the world. She looked at him spiritlessly. This is a treat, she drawled. Why, you haven't been to see us for ages. I see you all far oftener than you suspect, said the cunning smith. Do you? That is sly of you. He literally forced a waiter out of his path. I'm just going to have a wash and brush up, he shouted. Really?

murmured Gabrielle. My, but you do. You awe, full of news. By this time, the foyer was alive with movement and chatter. Most of the guests had arrived, and Luigi was making final disposition of his course of waiters. Fulcerson, evidently regarding himself as master of the ceremonies, dragged Lord Farncombe hither and thither, introducing him to various persons present. Whether they were members of the company or not, it was all the same to Fulkerson, who knew everybody, and embarrassed the young Viscount greatly by announcing his name and title

in a high-pitched voice. A band of musicians on the landing proclaimed to their fell intent by the scraping of violins and the grunts of a cello. But Kooling hurried to stop a premature outburst since the guest of the evening had not yet arrived. He was met at the door by Roper, and the little man was very hot, but beaming all over. He muttered in a stage whisper, She'll be round in a minute. Amiable, inquired Kooling anxiously, for he too did not look forward with a delight to his next meeting with Lily. Angelic, my boy, she's wearing a new dress, and that's taken her mind off it. Oh, her bark's always worse than her bite. I knew it'd blow over.

Roper pursed his lips and threw out his chest formidably. My, but I've given her such a talking to, he declared. Cooling grinned at him and beckoned to the leader of the band, to whom he gave some directions, but Roper was not now to be depressed by his friend's skepticism and bustled cheerfully into the throng in the middle of the room. Special edition, all the winners, paper! He called in the ruckus voice of a street news vendor, Lightest cricket scores, paper!

Hello, Dolly, Neater, Gabs, Daphne. Ah, there you are, Farncombe, you too, Colonel, how's everybody? Enid Moncrief, a long, spare-figured girl exquisitely gowned, who walked with a sinuous grace of a dancer, came in at that moment, followed by some of the chief actors. Von Rettn Mayer rushed to meet her, took her hand and kissed it with fervor. Ah, Miss Moncrief, he said. Your dancing was more surprising tonight than Effar.

But Folkerson had seen Enid and instantly dragged Farncombe towards her. I want to introduce Lord Foncombe, he shrieked. Miss Moncrief, Mr. Tavish, Mr. Shirley, Lord Fonko. Enid shook hands listlessly and was favouring this new acquaintance with a languishing glance of her dark eyes when Mrs. Stidolph approached. The two women embraced with a pronounced cordiality of hatred. Dolly dear, sighed Enid. Enid, darling, gushed Mrs. Dittorff.

Didolph. Good gracious, you're becoming an absolute skeleton. Am I? Well, no one can say that of you. But it is a pleasure meeting all you girls tonight, pered Mrs. Didolf. Of course, one cannot help seeing changes. Ah, said Enid with O.C. Langer. That must be a pleasure. I'm going to scold dear old Carlton,

by and by, pouted the other. He never gave me a birthday party when I was with him. No, said Enid, and you had so many birthdays here, hadn't you? Mrs. Stiddle's face showed that the arrow had reached its mark, and Miss Moncrie flushed with triumphant knowledge that, for once, she had discomfited Dolly and Zor. Farncombe was aware of the scratching of claws beneath the fur, and Fulgerson almost earned his gratitude by hauling him off in the direction of four statuesque beauties with impassive faces, who had made an effective entrance from the back of the dress circle. But Roper danced ahead of the young men and greeted the elegant quartet boisterously.

Hello? Show your tickets, please. Room inside for four. How are you, Flo? How goes it, Sybil? How do you do, Olga? I say, look at Fungy. Then Fulkerson's shrill voice rose above the din. Hey, girls, I want to introduce Lord Farncombe, he vociferated. In the midst of all this excitement, the stately manager, Murray's cooling, had kept his head. Miss Pardell! He announced, grindiloquently, throwing wide a pair of double doors and signaling to the leader of the band, which promptly struck up the air of Mind the Paint, as Lily entered with

Jimmy Birch. She was dressed wholly in white, and certain. did justice to Roper's enthusiastic description of her as angelic. She carried Farncombe's bouquet, and the young man's heart throbbed at sight of it. But he was the only one who held aloof while the others pressed around her with welcoming words and outstretched hands. Many happy returns of the day, rose the chorus, and she laughingly warded off the general assault until the valiant Jimmy Birch charged the crowd. For goodness's sake, let us get in, she cried. But are you idiot? You're on a for.

frock, do mind her frock. Mind the pie, yelled Roper. A general laugh rose at that, and Lily held the bouquet above her head. Don't crush my roses, she pleaded. Do be careful of me, boys. One at a time, I'm going to shake hands with each of you, but I want to kiss the girls. There was a flutter of embracing in exchange of laughing congratulations until someone cried suddenly, Is the governor? And Smith came in. He took a flutter. He took a little. He took a little. He took a little. He was mobbed, and, during that momentary lull, Lily discovered Farncombe standing in front of her. Nita Trevana had not included him in the list of en vitre. In fact, the girl knew nothing of his coming, which was an afterthought on Roper's part, and for one tranquil instant, Lily gazed at him with

frank surprise, extending her hand and smiling carelessly. "'You hear,' she said. "'It isn't long before we meet again, is it?' Then she grew conscious that Farncome was looking at the bouquet she was carrying, and her face and neck flamed into rivalry with a Le Frantz roses, only to fly back to the wanness of the white fral Carl Jushka. His flowers! What would he think? Oh, if only the foyer but held a trap-door through which she could vanish. And what was he saying? Were those some of the roses he had bought her? What a compliment! How he blessed the florist who had recommended them to him. By this time Carlton Smith had extricated himself. Now, girls, he cried. Don't smother me.

Where's Lily? Isn't she here yet? Ah, there you are. God bless you, my girl. Many, many happy returns of the day. She went to him and laid her head on his breast. He had invariably been so kind to her that she regarded him almost as a father. He patted her shoulders and brushed her forehead with his lips.

"'Lill, my dear, God bless you again,' he said, though not without a flitting thought that the young spark she had been talking to must have said or done something which would account for her half-hysterical state. "'Well,' he continued, gazing round benevolently, "'what about something to eat?' Luigi was waiting for his cue. "'Ready, Mr. Smith,' he cried loudly. "'Ladies and gentlemen, supper is ready. Amidst the general bustle which followed this announcement, no one noticed that one of the waiters, a tall, strongly built fellow,

adorned with a mop of vividly red hair and pointed red beard, was gazing at Farncombe as though he would like to strangle him. Waiters, whether red-headed or otherwise, do not, in Britain, at any rate, strangle one of the principal guests at a merry-making festival like this birthday party at the Pandora Theatre, while the guests, on their part, seldom pay the least heed to the physical, peculiarities of the waiters, whom they regard as mere accessories to the feast, ranking with the furniture and napery. The fun grew fast and furious. The clatter of cutlery and China contended with a volume of eager voices, and the red-headed waiter, who was relegated to the sideboard,

became ferociously busy wrenching the corks out of bottles of champagne. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of The Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Librevox recording. All Libravox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org. The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy. Chapter 10. Some minor issues. About 3 o'clock in the morning, Colonel Stydolff lounged aimlessly into the foyer.

From the distant stage came the soft strains of a waltz, but he had watched the dancers till he was tired, and in sheer wariness of spirit was now seeking the solace of a cigarette. save for a few waiters, the foyer was empty, but Stidolph noticed that a tall, square-shouldered, red-headed fellow was examining, apparently with an absorbed interest, a lady's bouquet which had been lain on a Chesterfield. On the floor near it lay a forgotten fan, a red rose which had fallen from a lady's corsage, and a pocket handkerchief with a powder-puff peeping from it.

These latter were articles which the waiter might presumably have rescued, and placed conspicuously on a table, but he disregarded them completely. and was in fact intent on reading a card attached to the bouquet which was composed of red and white carnations he had not heard stydolph's quiet tread on the soft carpet but looked round promptly when the colonel lit a cigarette and forthwith affected to busy himself in removing some of the soil plates and empty glasses there was nothing particularly striking in the incident and stydolph only noted it as one of those trifling things in which a bored man may find momentary relief for his troubled thoughts still He was puzzled. This stalwart attendant with the flaming red hair carried himself with a markedly different air from that of the jerky little Italians

who formed Luigi's cohort. There was something vaguely familiar in his aspect, something that suggested the broken-down gentleman. Dash me, muttered the Colonel Soto Vosé. He has the cut of an army man. At that moment, however, Luigi entered with slaves carrying champagne in wine-coolers and trays laden with sandwiches and tumblers.

"'Ain't you dancing, Colonel?' cried the matri de hotel, familiarly, for Stidolph was an honored patron of Katanis. "'Dancing, I, no, Luigi, my dancing days are over.' "'Oh, I like that,' said the Italian, dexterously snipping the wire off a magnum. "'Why, you used to be a regular slap-up dancing man when I first knew you, and I bet you ain't sixty. Come now!' Scydorf smiled and shook his head. He could not explain to the smooth-spoken Italian, that lack of the disqualened. desire rather than the advance of age kept him from the frivolities that had lightened the bygone years.

What's the hour, Luigi? he asked. I haven't a watch on me. About a quarter to three, Colonel? No later, sighed Stydolf. Oh dear, it's a long night. And he subsided on to a settee in a corner. The music ceased, and a babble of voices came from the corridor. Enid Moncrief, escorted by a man named Henneage, was the first to appear. close on her heels came Nita Trivana, whose cavalier was another of the boys. Gerald Grimwood, while Vaughn Rittenmeier, obviously bored, brought in Mrs. Stidolph. And it was gushing to Heneage about Ostend. Never been there, she cried.

Then, my dear Stewie, you haven't been born. It's the duckeest place. I'm counting the hours to my holiday. I've fixed up rooms at the Hotel de la Plage. Why don't you run over while I'm there? It was as well, perhaps, that Nita's loud protestations drowned her voice. She was not aware that the Baron was so near. I give you my solemn word, it was not you, Jerry, Miss Travana was saying.

It was that fool, Bertie. Anyhow, it's a rotten old frock, and now it will have to go to the ragbox. She showed a small rent in her skirt to Enid, laughing gaily the while, doing a little step to display her neat shoes. Mrs. Thydolff, obviously displeased, whispered to the Baron. Well, did you ever? Just fancy. Von Rettinmeyer was gazing at Enid, and wondering why Hennage was paying her so much attention. I beg your pardon, he said absentmindedly. Fancy those two girls walking into a room before us.

Mrs. Thidolph was inclined to be caddish, but at that moment she discovered the fan. No, I do believe that's mine, she said, darting for it before. before the Baron could anticipate her. She turned at something he said. No, thanks. I'm on a diet. Didn't you notice me at supper? Let us sit. Then she saw her husband. Oh, get up, do! She cried effectively, whereupon Steyoff rose with prompt obedience. Why aren't you dancing? If you don't dance, go home and put yourself to bed. You might, for all the good you do here. Stidolph laughed and was moving away,

but von Rettnmeyer called to him. "'Blandy of room for you, too, Colonel.' "'No, I won't inconvenience you,' said Sidoff placidly, and was making for the door when he came face to face with Farncombe and Lily Peridow. The girl darted forward and seized his arm in her impulsive way. "'You are not dancing, Colonel Sidelph,' she cried. "'Dance the next with me. I'll make some man retire in your favor.' He smiled charmingly, with ready recognition of her youth and beauty.

"'No, no, I'm too old. He protested. Too old for dancing. I should never be too old for that. She seized Gabrielle Cato, who had just entered with Roper, and pulled her to the couch, where reposed the bouquet which had invited the curiosity of the red-headed waiter. Come and sit down, she said. Lord Farncombe will keep on bringing us ices till the music starts again. Gabby, who was not that Walt's delicious?

I say, Lil, murmured Miss Cato languidly, when Farncombe had hurried away to the refreshment counter. How much did you make out of rubber, though, Lowe? Rubber! Rubber! I don't know. How much was it, Lough? 4.50, said the stockbroker, preening himself. To be regarded as a financial genius was his special weakness. There, murmured Gabrielle. People do that kind of thing for you, but poor me never gets a chance.

I did my house up with it. said Lily, gave the job to young Charlie Ramsden, who has gone in for decorating. Yes, and blued the whole lot at one go, complained Roper. Blued it completely, laughed the girl. But what does it matter? Isn't that what money is made for? Oh, ice is delicious icees, for Farron Com had appeared at her side with a waiter. The red-headed waiter approached, and offered her a plate of sandwiches, which she declined without looking at him. A crowd of people came in, and cooling was laughing at something Carlton Smith had said.

Uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, Ego Fodd. Capital Chief, first-rate. Upon my honor, you're in great form. He caught Stuydolph's eye and hailed him. Come here, Colonel. I want you to hear this. Mrs. Stidolph glanced at the group of men, and a sudden thought seemed to cross her mind,

because she turned at once to the Baron. Of course, this is strictly between ourselves, she confided. Though I almost hinted as much to Smith, but the fact is, the Pandora isn't in the least what it is, Carl. "'Nutting is what it is, my dear Dolly,' growled von Rittenmeyer, who was gazing gloomily at the vivacious ended. Mrs. Stydell fanned herself coquettishly. "'I suppose he cannot find the artists, that's it,' she said. "'If you don't have the artists, well, of course you recollect my Polly Taggart and the Mary Milliner, don't you?' The Baron stifled yon with difficulty.

Jalming, jaming, he murmured. But the lady was not to be put off by these stereotyped adjectives. I hate blowing my own trumpet, she said. But I was looking through my press cuttings only yesterday, and I have never seen such notices as I had for Polly Taggart. Vavorable, the Baron's attention was wandering. Favorable, she cried. They made me blush to read them.

It was stupid of me, but... They did make me blush positively. And then to give it all up, as I was an idiot enough to do when I married, and for her life as dull as ditch water, if ever a woman sacrificed herself in this world. But I don't intend to stick to that arrangement. If I can't get back into the theatres, well, there are the halls. I was telling the colonel only this morning.

Roper appeared, program in hand. The band had just struck up another waltz. This is ours, Dolly, said the little man cheerily, and Bonretemeyer rose with alacrity. Aha, he said, bowing magnificently, I yield with reluctance. Gabrielle Cato, finding that although there might be room for three on the Chesterfield,

there was no place for more than two in the conversation, had betaken herself and her ice to some other people of the foyer, and the two young people left to themselves, were deep in talk until the opening bars of the music reached them. Farncombe rose and took her plate from Lily, handing it to the red-headed waiter who happened to be standing quite near. Shall we go down? He said,

This is our dance, I think. The girl glanced at the bouquet and seemed to be on the point of saying something, but checked herself and looked at her program. Then she frowned, and the guardsman alert ear caught a little click of annoyance. What is it? he asked anxiously. One, two, three, four, she counted in a low voice. Why, this is our fifth dance. Yes, he agreed, seeming quite content with the arrangement.

Five out of eight, she protested. Farncombe affected to examine his own program. And ten, twelve, fourteen are mine, too, he said elatedly. Lily shrugged her shoulders and accepted his arm. Again she looked at the flowers, though her companion failed to notice the direction of her glance so long as it was not intended for some other man. It's awfully unfair, she pouted. "'Unfair!' he cried.

"'Yes, to the others. "'I can't think what made me so thoughtless.' "'Why, there it is!' shrieked Jimmy Birch, rushing forward to rescue the handkerchief in the puff, which was lying at her friend's feet. Quite candidly she rubbed the puff, an extremely ragged one over her nose. "'There are no friends like the old friends,

the constant tired and true,' she sang. "'You two off!' Yes, said Farncombe politely. Can I do anything for you? Bring me a liquor of petrol and a lucifer match. He smiled. Folkerson, who had just swallowed a large whiskey soda, chance to set eyes on her. Hi, he cried rushing up.

We're booked. This is our valse. Cry to cure. Oh, why don't you go to a night school? It demanded the girl. Can you pronounce French better than that? Vals. Clé de clue.

This was with withering accuracy, but Folkerson only wagged his head carelessly. Very likely, he said. Only wage good is nothing for me. Come along, Jimmy. Jane, to you, if you please, she said with much dignity. Tosh, he answered. I was christened Jane, Herbert. Well, I wasn't at the christening, see? No, but if you're not more careful of those feet of yours while you're waltzing,

you'll be at my funeral. You tore Nita's dress something awful. They went out squabbling, and Edd-Mondcrieff happened to be left almost alone in the foyer with von Rettnmeyer. It was too good an opportunity to be missed, so she inquired anxiously. Well, what did you say to him? The Baron was obviously gratified.

He had not anticipated so favorable reception. I told him the beasts wanted lifting in the second agate, and that he ought to give you, another dance, he said eagerly. Yes, but what did he say? She demanded. That he would dink it over. She drew herself up scornfully.

That's Smith's invariable answer, the cunning old fox, she pouted. But word to talk about it later. I am waiting to get him on one side, explained the Baron. Poo, you won't get him on one side, you stupid. He'll take precious good care of that. she glanced around finding that every other member of the party had fled while luigi and the waiters were busy with their affairs took a disconsolate step or two and sighed but it isn't dancing that my mind is dwelling on just now dear boy so inquired von rittenmeyer following her yes it's rest i'm yearning for my holiday rest for my weary bones karl i'm simply bursting with rage she made this startling declaration in the most laxadaisical manner imaginable.

But the Baron was highly solicitous. What does they matter? He asked anxiously. That wretched hotel at Ostend, the plage. They have the confounded impudence to ask me 125 francs a day for two cubbyholes on the third floor for Aunt and myself. Just fancy it.

Monstress, shrug von Rettemeyer. But Ostend is... Ostend. And his hands are. hands spread deprecatingly. Thanks for the information, said Enid erudely. Is that all the sympathy you can offer? I beg Barden, there may be jeeper hotels, he suggested.

Enid seated herself gracefully on the convenient arm of a settee, and swung a small and pretty foot. Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with coupons. Oh, it doesn't matter. I suppose it'll have to be the swanage, or some really brisk resort of that description. Well, so be it. Life is made up of disappointments. Von Rittenmeier, too, had seated himself close to her. His usually good-humored face was clouded. In fact, the Baron was calculating. A hundred and twenty-five francs a day, he muttered. Including nothing, absolutely nothing, he bit his nails in thought. Already he had conjured

up a distasteful vision of long columns of figures, decked with strange, curls and flourishes, and totaling to an appalling sum. Precisely, and there's the eating and the drinking. One cannot starve, that's certain. Which would amount do? I believe aunt and I should manage to feed ourselves on 40 francs a day, or 50, at a pinch. The Baron's face grew longer and longer. Such was his distress that he didn't notice how amusedly the girl was watching him

out of the corner of her eye. A hundred and twenty-five and fifty, he sighed. Yes, a hundred and seventy-five. Call it two hundred. And she stoked his hair gently with a disengaged hand. Von Rett and Meyer leaned back. He liked having his hair stroked. Fifty-six bounds a week, he growled.

Sixty and round figures, said Enid. For a fortnight, he inquired. With the air of a man resigned to the worst blow that faced. can inflict. Oh, no, dear. A fortnight's no use to me, she said sweetly. But one becomes sick of a blaze after a fortnight, he urged. If you go only for enjoyment, not if you go for a rest, a real rest. Three weeks, then, he pleaded.

A month, she said firmly. Smith gives me the whole of August. Ah, good, a month. and the Baron passed a hand across his forehead frenzedly. Enid, bearing in mind an ancient proverb, Annette the turning of a worm, stooped and carefully picked up a piece of fluff from off her skirt. We're losing this dance. Shall we have a turn? She inquired indifferently.

The Baron sprang upright. He was breathing heavily, but his face wore the expression of one who had resolved to dare everything. Enid, he almost whispered. Yes? She said guilelessly. Von Rett and Myers heels clicked, and his bow was deeper than ever. If you would permit me to be your banker during your stay at Austin, four weeks. Oh, Carl, she broke in.

I would be the most gratified, he continued. She went up to him alluringly. Carl, I couldn't. It's such an obligation. The words came from her lips, but her eyes spoke differently, and he bowed again. on my side he said with a magnanimous disregard for the truth of course she went on evidently regarding the matter is settled i defray my own traveling expenses and tips and incidentals not a penny of those shall fall on you von rettmeyer caught her hand and drew her nearer but she backed away quickly with a warning gesture because colonel stydolph had wandered in once more to smoke a consoling cigarette the colonel was a kind man and came to her assistant Do you know you were losing a very pretty waltz, Miss Moncrief, he said.

I was just saying so to the Baron, she cried. Come along, do. It'll be half over. Stidolph retired to his favorite corner, but he was not destined to be left in peace at that moment, because De Castro brought in Gabrielle Cato through another door, and it was quite noticeable that the lady was doleful, and the gentleman exceedingly sulky. Ah, Miss Cato! Ah, Sam! A pleasant part! party, eh? cried the Colonel. Yes, lest,

de Castro, in whose face there was thunder. A damned pleasant party, he muttered under his breath as Stuydolf went out. Well, said his companion. Whatever you may think, don't make a scene. Scene? I'm not making a scene. You walked away from me in the middle of a dance

and left me standing there staring after you like a serrated child. You're making the scene I'm very sorry, she said, dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief, but the great and only Sam was not to be appeased so readily. I'm just as good a Walter as anyone here, and better than most. He bleated, waving his arms wildly. If you're tired of me, announce the fact quietly.

Don't go and wipe your booths on me in public, because that hurts my pride. Gabriel twisted her life's body and a movement expressive of utmost anguish. I can't do more than apologize. She almost sobbed. And it's the first time I've ever done that to him, man. She flung herself hopelessly on a set-e, and De Castro, after a sheepish glance or two, grew mollified. I don't ask it, Gapth. I don't ask it, he said. All I ask is the fair play and decency. I know I've been rude, said the girl. But it's owing to my low spirits. I'm so shockingly low-spirited. Mine is a strange nature. On the stage, um, liveliness itself. A perfect little lump of talent, broken, heard myer. I've been telling Carlton, too,

perthwarting him to introduce an elector thong for you and act too. You have? Miss Cato brightened for an instant, but it was only a passing gleam. Did he promise to then get over? She added gloomily. This exact words. Ha! ha! It was astonishing that so. It was astonishing that so pretty, a girl could produce such a hollow laugh. She relapsed into melancholy. As I was remarking, she said. I'm a massive inconsistency. On the stage, the embodiment of Elfin Fun...

That wath in the mail? Put into Castro rather maliciously. But she merely nodded. Her sorrows were beyond such pen-pricking. In the mail. She agreed listlessly. Off the stage, I'm a sufferer from what's called the artistic temperature.

No, Temperament. Poor little girl, poor little girl, De Castro patted her shoulder soothingly, yet his sallow, flabby features wore an expression of discomfort rather than of sympathy. Perhaps he guessed what was coming. Sometimes, murmured the drooping Gabrielle. I have an idea that if I had a motor car of my own, I should feel easier and happier. What did you mean, motor car of your own? My thawie that you're disposal, isn't it?

And Sam's uneasiness grew positively painful. Miss Gato shook her head, a charming little head, which really ought not to be so weighed down by sorrows capable of being assuaged. That's not the thing, she pouted. Whenever I have yours, I'm oppressed by a sense of borrowing. Well, urged De Castro. If I gave you a new car, you'd be oppressed by a sense of not having paid for it, wouldn't you? She considered the point, but dismissed it.

At first I should. She said. But not for long. Seeing my family crest on the panels instead of your monogram would help me to forget that you had had anything to do with it. Of course, it'd be only an experiment at the best. It might cheer me up, or it mightn't. The music ceased.

Soon the foyer would be full of a chattering crowd, and Di Castro felt that he simply could not disassemble at this trying time. He ran a finger around inside his collar to loosen it. Look here, he'd cried in desperation. We'd better discuss this experiment. Let us go and sit in the pit. I can't argue, sighed Gabriel, rising to accompany him for all that. I really can't argue. My head's far too bad for that.

He led her to the landing, meaning to avoid the rush along the corridor. I don't want to argue, he said thickly. I simply want to arrive at an understanding. Suppose then I buy you a car. Am I to be made an ass of at the next dance that we happen to meet at? Now, yes or no? Folkerson raced in, but was so intent on reaching the counter where the drinks were served that he failed to note their hurried exit. Hi, wake up there, he shouted to a waiter. Glasota wore from Miss Prish on the stage.

The man understood him perfectly, but Fulkerson thought he did not. Miss Prish on the stage, Glasota, War. He repeated pausing as well as he could, after each word. I'll have a whiskey. What's the little whiskey? which is the whiskey? Thango. Grabbing the bottle indicated by the waiter, he poured a far too liberal quantity of the spirit

into a tumbler. You take a soda word, Miss Bridge. He frowned. I'll mix my own whiskey, Loon Sharp. Show the word, Miss Bridge. Goping down the contents of the glass, he began to sing.

Oh, the gals, oh the gals, I'm awfully fond of the gals. Be they a bon or blonde. Of the gals, I'm fond. I'm dreadfully fond of the gals. He caught sight of farned com and Lily through the glass upper halves of the folding doors, and lurched away with an erratic celerity that might hardly be looked for from one in his present condition. But he was afraid of Lily. She might order him home, and he didn't mean to go home just yet,

not for a jolly long time. Why should he? This was life. This was the real thing. Some fellows he knew would willingly have paid hundreds of pounds to have been invited there that night. Go home. Not he. End of Chapter 10. Some minor issues. Recording by Dylan M. Davis. Chapter 11 of Mind the Pain Girl.

This is a labor box recording. All labor box recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit. Laborbox.org, The Mind the Paint Girl by Lewis Tracy. Chapter 11. The End of the Frolick. There was an air of constraint, almost of irritation, about Lily Paradale, which was so unnatural that even the lovesick Farncombe noticed it. He racked his brains to discover if he could possibly have said or done anything to annoy her,

but his conscience acquitted him, and he strove to disregard. her manifest malaise. Another ice, he asked after an awkward pause, when she had answered in a monosyllable some casual remark about the regimental marquee at Ascot. No, thanks, she replied, stooping to regain her bouquet in which she buried her flushed face promptly. Then, and not till then, did he learn that she had changed bouquets during some earlier in interval. These flowers were carnations, not roses. Oh, he said, and the flow of words so suddenly available as suddenly deserted him. The font of his eloquence died at its source. He felt as a thirst, maddened Arab might feel when he reaches the smiling oasis only to find that it was a mirage,

or rather to drop from metaphor to fact. The few glasses of champagne he had swallowed had gone to his head, and the measure of his present dejection was that of his earlier beatitude. She pretended to misunderstand that involuntary cry. Don't you like it? she exclaimed. I found it among the others in my dressing room. It's from the gallery boys, and I attach some value to it. You must not forget, Lord Farncombe, that I am an actress, first and foremost, and the applause of the gallery is the breath of my nostril. whatever that may mean, though I know it means something pleasant.

Moreover, isn't it touching to think of those youngsters clubbing together with their sixpences to buy me such a nice present? She spoke rather hurriedly, but continued to look at him with steady eyes, yet, sad to relate. Miss Lily Paradale was not being quite so candid, as her words and manner seemed to imply. During the whole of suppertime, she had striven vainly to find some plausible means of escape from the false position in which that beautiful but unhappy bouquet of roses had placed her,

a chance visit to her dressing room, and the sight of the Gallery Boys' tribute, had suggested a harmless yet effective artifice. More than once during the evening, she was on the verge of showing the new bouquet to her admirer, though wishing that he might perceive the exchange for himself, but Farncombe had eyes only for her. This time, she determined he should notice it. You are kind to the gallery boys, but rather cruel to me, said Farncombe at last. She wished most aboutly that this young man did not possess the faculty of rendering her tongue-tide. She was completely at a loss what to say, and the two were smiling,

at each other, he somewhat wistfully, and she with not a little embarrassment. When the red-haired waiter banged open a door, seized a box of cigars off the counter, and banged out again, performing the simple duty with an amount of unnecessary noise that would have earned one of Luigi's regulars, a stern reprimand, Farncombe came to the girl's relief. He fumbled with his program and read. Number nine, two-step mind the paint of course you're engaged for this he inquired and you surely she cried thankful for his tact if inclined to marvel at it no i er i kept it open in case in case i dance it with morrie she said decisively without the least affectation of not following his stammering intent Mr. Cooling, he murmured politely. Yes, Morrie cooling. Farncombe was rapidly acquiring a subtle knowledge of a woman's ways. He believed that this charming and vivacious girl was far more amenable to a judicious pause than to his finest flight of eloquence. So he remained silent now purposely, and Lily sat down, uninvited, he sat near her. Miss Paradell, he said at last. Well, if nothing else. He had certainly succeeded in making her nervous. I wonder if Mr. Cooling would let you off

this dance. I shouldn't dream of asking him, she answered. No, of course not. But may I? I beg you'll do nothing up the sort, she said, almost haughtily. Forgive me, murmured Farncombe, and there was another pause, so prolonged that Lily herself was forced to break it. I spoke so, so shy, sharply to you. Just now, she began, but her companion could not bear that she should reproach herself with his apparent blunder. You didn't speak sharply to me, he protested. Oh, but I did, and it was because I have been very nasty with Maury. I wrote him a furious letter, and I want to make it up to him. Ah, yes, sighed Farncombe, how well she could make it up, to cooling, or to any man, when she chose. I called him a pig and other things, went on Lily hurriedly, and now I hate myself for it.

A pig. It was difficult for Farncombe to grasp essentials when he was under Lily's spell, but the word jarred him on a little. A smile did away with the effect in a moment. Still, that's no reason why I should be nasty to you, she said. And call me a pig? He left. The infatuated youth now found some element of human. in the word. Lily, always impulsive, bent nearer, so that she might compare her program with his, and the fragrance of her, the merest scent of her hair, was bewildering. Look here, she said, in what she meant to be a friendly tone and nothing else. I want to make it up to you now.

Fifteen, the last but one. Are you fixed up for fifteen? No, he replied, without even a glance at his own program. No, she repeated, rounding her eyebrows. I, I kept it open in case. The girl laughed merrily. She could not help it. His adulation was so open, so complete. Then she remembered the self-imposed check on a serious flirtation of which the changing of the bouquets was the earliest outcome. I may be able to give you fifteen, she said severely.

Seeing that foreign come was scribbling her name at once, Don't count on it, please, but it's booked Mr. Fulkerson, and Bertie's not always to be depended upon at that hour. Thank you, thank you. You have no idea what a night this has been for me, he cried eagerly, greatly daring. He followed her example and edged a little nearer, though Lily had drawn away from him as soon as she had glanced at the ballroom program. That reminds me. May I ask who is going to see you home, Miss Paradeau? See me home? From Lily's astonished intonation, it might have been imagined she had never before been asked such a question by a young man. It would be an honor that I should appreciate more than I can. Find words to express, he said humbly. She rose, picking up her bouquet, and shot a somewhat indignant glance at him. I am very much obliged to you, she said, giving the words an emphasis that was decidedly chilling. but I dare say Mr. Roper will see me home, and Mr. DeCastro, and Mr. Bland. She walked a few steps towards the door, and Farncombe followed her.

I, I hope, I haven't offended you, he said, not in the least, came the frigid reply, only that I am in the habit of relying on old friends for those little services. Stid off, that lost soul entered, and with him came the strains of mind the paint, played by the orchestra to the lively measure of a two-step, and the young guardsman drew himself up with the air of a man who has made a mistake and is ready to bear the punishment. Shall I take you to Mr. Cooling, he said, in a voice that was well under control. Lily, still on her dignity,

inclined her head in the most approved style of theatrical huddiness, she was putting her hand through his arm, when the look of despair on his face softened her, and she became her own sweet self again. Have I hurt you? She whispered. Oh, I deserve the rebuke, he said manfully. No, you don't.

She cooed. You're a nice boy, and I'm sure you only meant to be attentive. You may leave me at my door with the others if it will give you any satisfaction. An almost uncontrollable emotion choked form comes utterance. Hot and passionate words were whirling in his brain when the bulky form of cooling appeared in the doorway. He was breathless with the extra exertion of climbing stairs and hurrying along the corridor. Ah, there you are, he cried.

I've been looking for you everywhere. Except the one place where you were sure to find me, cried the girl. Her manner altering completely from the tension of the last few minutes. Come on, Mori. She danced a step or two to the music and sang a line of the chorus. then, handing her bouquet to Farncombe with a cheerful request that he should bring her flowers to her afterwards, she thrust an arm through coolings, and the two ran out dancing and singing, for the consequential and heavily built manager could unbend with the best of them when Lillie Paradale was his partner.

Farncombe still wrapped in a paradise of his own by Lily's forgiveness and ultimate concession, was following when Stedolf called to him. me a moment, he said, laying a hand on his arm. That is, if you aren't dancing, no, I am free, said the guardsman, a trifle impatiently. Perhaps, because it was in his mind to watch Lily Paradale's graceful dancing from the dress circle, his admiration of herself-like movements was no mere outcome of calf-love. She personified the very spirit of carnival, and was quite as fascinating to the onlooker in an ordinary waltz, as when indulging in the more elaborate or less restrained posturings on the stage, Colonel Stedolph, however, seemed to be at a loss to know how

to begin. Indeed, he had set himself a difficult and thankless task, and might well feel uncertain as to the way in which the younger man would take it. Excuse me for what I am going to say, he almost whispered, but I, I know your father, knew him very well years ago, and your mother. My boy, my dear boy, it's hard. Why, what's the matter? Colonel, cried Farncombe, both surprised and mystified by Stidolph's manner. Well, I, I'm sorry to find you in this set. Farncombe drew up stiffly at that. He guessed now what was coming. What do you mean? he asked. Don't be angry with me, said Stedolf brokenly. I'm an old man and an old fool.

But it is from the fools that the useful lessons are to be learnt by those who are wiser. Ferncombe withdrew his arm and affected to inhale the scent of lily's carnations. I really don't understand you, he said. Try to, pleaded Stidolph. Not now. Another time. When this music isn't exciting you, nor these pretty women. Think it out by yourself. You're at the beginning of your career, my boy. Remember me, the old fool,

who has brought himself to a miserable end, and that I cautioned you, cautioned you. Luigi Rustin, followed by the red-haired waiter and another carrying a tray. The little Italian was laughing boisterously. He cackled. Why don't you join them, gentlemen, you're losing it all. They're having a romp. a regular old ark that's right your lordship as farncombe ran off make haste colonel they're sure to want you and i've known the time stidolph went out slowly and luigi began to bustle about the counter whisky and soda from mr tavish the cure brandy mr grimwood he banged the glasses down on the tray and one of his aides vanished with him the taller man who had thrust his hands into his pockets, was watching Luigi grimly, and when the presiding genius of Catanis would have gone out again in order to watch the frolic on the stage, he called him back. Here, Luigi, he said, taking out a hand full of money and selecting a couple of sovereigns, give this to your chaps.

Oh, you're spoiling them, Captain, said the smiling Italian, never mind, and these are for you, some more gold changed hands, and Luigi bowed low. Thank you very much, he said. I hope you have enjoyed yourself. Oh, thoroughly, though what between one thing and another it was warm work. I'll be off now, with your permission. And Jice stretched out his arms with the action of a man who has been carrying a heavy burden and is testing his muscles to make certain that they have survived the ordeal.

Shall I see you at lunch? Captain, said the grinning Luigi, probably good night, or rather good morning. Jice seemed to have lost some of his military bearing. He actually slouched away to a side door, and stopped there a moment listening to the music. Suddenly, both he and the Italian became aware of a tumult. People were singing uproariously, shouting and laughing, and the sounds came nearer. Evidently, some sort of pandemonium had broken loose. Not for, the first time had the air of Mined the paint, sent the red blood

rioting through the veins of men and women. Hello, growled gice between his teeth. They're coming this way. He retreated swiftly to the back of the counter, and Luigi peeped out. Ha, ha, ha, he cried delightedly.

Now they're at it. Falkerson was the avant courier of the revelers. He rushed in, flourishing his arms madly, and skipping like a sager. His bloodshot eyes were almost starting out of their sockets with excitement, and his usually pallid face was now absolutely livid. Behind him came Lily Paradale, carried on the interlocked arms of two men belonging to the company, while a third held her by

the waist, lest any accident should happen to her. Two by two, the rest of the revelers singing the chorus of Mind the Paint and dancing it with fantastic extravagance. Even the self-contained Carlton Smyth and the ponderous Morris Cooling were indulging in a can-can, and Dolly Inzer fancied she was back in the heyday of Polly Taggart. The party circled the foyer twice, and some of the Italian waiters whose hot smothered blood was not to be denied when Saturnalia broke loose, joined in Khan Amore. Lily, waving her bouquet, was alternately shrieking with laughter and breathlessly imploring her carriers not to drop her. The orchestra, knowing that their patrons were engaged in a mad gallop around the theater,

played with redoupled energy, and Jimmy Burch, thinking that some of the men needed stimulating to fresh exertions, broke from the cue and jumped on to a settee to sing at the top of her voice, mind the paint, mind the paint. A girl is not a sinner. just because she's not a saint. Please don't drop me, screamed Lily. Oh, please! Luigi threw open the folding doors, and out the frenzy procession raced,

followed by all the Italians. Jais came from behind the bar, thrust his hands into his pockets, and sauntered towards the side door, for which he had been making when the frolic began. Siddolf, who had come in again, was lighting his 50th cigarette. gazed at him curiously once more.

That's the same waiter chap who was so interested in Lily Paradale's bouquet, he mused, Dash it all. I've seen him somewhere. I can't make it out. He's a queer-looking customer to be a waiter. Anyhow, good Lord, what time is this thing going to stop? When Jice reached the street, he staggered like a drunken man. With an effort he pulled himself together and inhaled a few deep breaths

of the morning air, or of that peculiar variety of morning air which cleans into London after it has been well scoured by the hose pipes during the quiet hours. A dozen or more automobiles lined the curb, and a number of cigarette smoking chauffeurs eyed him to ascertain if, by chance, he should be the particular employer each was on the lookout for. Naturally, he felt that his appearance was more remarkable than was actually warranted, by the facts, so he donned the silk hat he was carrying, and then remembered, with a vague sense of annoyance, that the hat would not fit over the wig. He managed to balance it precariously while wriggling into a light overcoat, but the hat fell off and rolled into the gutter,

which was still swimming with water after the street cleaning operations. He recovered it and walked away, miserably conscious that the incident would provide. the group of grinning chauffeurs with ample material for humorous comment. None of them dared laugh outright, since Jice was too big a man to take liberties with. At the next corner he encountered an empty taxi, bowling home from a late job, and the driver, having ascertained that German Street was the objective, agreed to take him there. Once in the vehicle, Jice surveyed his damage. hat, for the mind insensibly assuages its greater sorrows by yielding to minor ones.

Poor old topper, he said, smiling grimly at its apparent ruin, You're like myself, lost your gloss, and plunging headlong into the mire. Then he was seized with an unreasonable anger against the offending week, which he tore off and threw into the street. The beard followed, though not without inflicting a few seconds. of torture, and both articles excited much speculation in the breast of a policeman who found them some minutes later. But the policeman's musings were without form and void as compared with those of the taxi driver when Jais alighted outside his chambers and produced a liberal fare. The man's sharp, half-scared expression stirred, Nichos, bemused wits. Oh, it's all right,

he laughed savagely. I haven't been taking part in a tragedy. At least, not the sort of thing the newspapers are interested in. It was only a joke. The silliest kind of joke you ever heard of. And I suddenly grew tired of it. I live here. It's all right. I tell you, good morning. The driver saw that this queer masquerader did really possess a key which gave him admission to the set of flats, and was slightly reassured when Jice went in and closed the door. But he noted the number of the house and the hour. One never knew. Strange things happened in London.

Jice went to his rooms, washed off some of the adhesive stuff which had kept the beard in place, and was minded to go to bed. He heard a clock chimed the half hour and glanced at his watch. Half past three, half an hour ago, he swore savagely. Angling for him, he snarled. Lily, my Lily, actually angling for him. Oh, she's artful, like the rest of her sex. Brought his flowers to the theater, and then grew coy, played the engenue by staging the gallery boys' bouquet. That was sly, d blanked, de-sly. Oh, Lily, Lily, his body swayed as though he were racked with pain. He was sitting in an armchair, but he sprang up in the obedience to an impulse,

mixed himself a strong whiskey and soda, which he drank at a gulp, and donned his overcoat again. Picking up the damaged hat, his glance fell on its smears of half-dried mud. He threw it aside angrily, raced into an adjoining room, rummaged in a drawer, and took out a deerstocker cap, Then, lighting a cigarette, he went out, and if the taxi driver could have seen his face at that moment, the man would certainly have confided his suspicions to the nearest policeman. End of Chapter 11 Chapter 12 of the Mind the Paint Girl This is a Labor Fox recording. All Labor Fox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit.

The Mind, the Paint Girl, by Lewis Tracy. Chapter 12. Smoldering Ashes It was 4 o'clock on a summer's morning and necessarily broad daylight. Even in London, when the piece of Bloomsbury was disturbed by the snorting of three automobiles, which drew up, one behind the other, close to the pavement in front of Lily Paradale's house. Limousine doors were. flannel been almost simultaneously, and several of the revelers from the Pandora Theater alighted.

Lily was escorted by Enid Moncrief, Roper, and Farncombe. Jimmy Birch had in her train, Von Retton Mayer, Fulkerson, and Vincent Bland, and Di Castro was accompanied by Gabrielle Cato and Daphne Dour, the latter one of the Pandora girls who happened to live in the same locality as Gabrielle. she was the only one of the party who seemed to be borne down by sleepiness the others were wide awake but pale and haggard the men looked as if carleton smy's specific of a wash and brush-up would do them good and even the graceful girls bore traces in their slightly dishevelled hair of the delightful romp which had just come to an end lily ran up the steps and opened the door with a latch-key come in everybody she said, do take off your wraps for a minute. We'll go to my boudoir. It's the only habitable room in the house at this hour. Fulkerson, whose in abriety had reached the argumentative stage,

held forth for a moment on the doorstep. Working clashes, he cried. Don't talk to me about the working clashes. Oh, hush, Bertie, said Jimmy Berg. Do, shut up. People may hear you. I'm shik o' the very mention o'n the name, working clashes. He repeated emphatically, Oh, sit on his head, somebody. We shall wake ma'n the servants, cried Jimmy, concernedly. Lily laughed. They were already on the stairs.

Don't worry, she said, tossing the words over her shoulder. You won't wait my servants, and mothers bound to hear us. She sleeps so lightly when I'm out. Daphne yonned candidly and stumbled. There was an ominous hearing sound of some gauzy material. Serve you right, my girl, said Jimmy. Where's your manners? The boudoir was on the second floor. Lily, who was now carrying a bouquet composed of white and pink roses, made straight for the windows, and drew up the blinds, letting in the cold, clear, morning light. Raps and overcoats were disposed carelessly. in the first place that offered, and Falkerson threw his impediments on the floor.

He was still wrestling with some imaginary grievance. One odd-magine the working match, the only person who ever does dayish work. Ridic, he declared. Von Retton-Mare and Bland seemed to be amused, and Di Castro on bent so far as to take up the parable. There the thom truth in what birdie the thigin. though he lisped, for in the than the. But Fulkerson was in no mood to listen to anybody else. Brish working man, he growled with manifest disgust.

By Jove, yes, he's a bit of a fraud, put in Roper, hoping, by agreement, to whittle Fulkerson into a more amiable mood. When I think of the work, Mr. Lionel Hesketh Roper manages to dispose of in the course of a day. he threw up his arms and nodded his heads to signify that he was quite at a loss or an adequate figure of speech lily announced that she was going to reassure her mother lest ma should wake with a start and think there were burglars in the house if any of you want to drink you must hunt for it yourselves in the dining-room she said you play host uncle lull barncomb bland and roper nearly fell over each other in their haste to open the door, but Farncombe won, being the youngest and most active. Now then, give your orders gents, cried Roper briskly. Ladies, don't all speak at once. Fulgerson plunged forward wildly.

I'll have a small whiskey and soda, he said. Bland followed him, and Miss Birch sent Roper also in pursuit. Do stop that boy, she cried. We'll have trouble enough to get him. him home as it is. Can I get you any ding, Enid, said von Rettinmeyer. A glass of soda water, please, was her answer. The same for me, Vaughn, putting in Miss Cato. The big, blonde German looked down upon the tired Daphne, who had curled herself up on a box otoman and was already half asleep. She was a good-looking girl, and her face lost in repose, the somewhat sulky expression

she had borrowed from her friend, Gabrielle Cato. Baby, baby, he murmured sentimentally. Don't disturb her, said Jimmy Birch. Let her have her snooze in peace. But the baron seemed to find the picture rather attractive. Shall I bring you your bottle, you pretty little baby? He murmured. Enid turned on him irritably.

Tempers are apt to be short at four o'clock in the morning. In any case, he had no business to attend. admire another girl, no matter what the hour might be. Don't be an idiot, Carl, she snapped. Sam, will you fetch me some soda water? Then von Rettin Mayer bethought himself. I beg, pardon, he said humbly, and went out with DeCastro. Snatching up a handmair, Enid looked at herself critically. What a sight! She exclaimed, Gabs, do you think Lil would mind my going into her?

her bedroom. Of course she wouldn't, said Gabrielle, taking the mirror in turn and viewing herself with like dismay. Oh, I'm yellower than you. Isn't this light awful? She threw aside the mirror and both girls hurried away. Jimmy Birch, though not concerned about her personal appearance as these professional beauties, could not resist the claims of curiosity. She, too, examined her features critically. Oh, you lovely creature, she cried, glancing at Farncombe while readjusting a comb in her hair, she found that he was gazing at her earnestly. Young man, she chirped. Turn your face to the wall, please, I'm about to use my puff. Suddenly, with rapid, stealthy movements, he closed one of the doors which the others had left open and crept close to the astonished girl. She stared at him.

thinking frankly that the chill air of mourning had proved too much for him, but his low, Ernest's word soon on deceived her. Miss Birch, he said, you're Miss Paradale's friend, her great friend. Will you be a friend of mine, too, and do me a service? It, it all depends, she answered, genuinely startled. I want you to beg her to allow me to remain behind. with you for a few minutes after the others have gone. Remain here? You and I, she repeated.

Yes, and then, if she permits it, will you wait in the next room while I speak to her? Miss Birch, I must speak to her. He was almost incoherent with anxiety, but she understood perfectly. Wouldn't tomorrow do? She stammered. She's tired, you know.

Five minutes, pleaded. Farncombe, no longer. Won't you try to arrange it for me? Jimmy, who had soon regained her equipoise, pursed her lips and looked demure without any preliminary warning. Life had become undeniably exciting. Hmm, she murmured. Of course. I'd stay. Delighted, I'm sure. It doesn't matter how tired I feel. I know I'm a brute, said Farncombe contritely, but I'm a I really think the arranging is your job, Lord Farncombe. She continued, Oh, with all these people around me, I should make a horrible bungle of it and attract attention. You're clever. No one will notice you. The girl raised her eyes to his in a saucy,

quizzing, yet friendly way. Look here, she said. Am I guessing correctly? Do you want to ask Lily to marry you? Yes, he said. although the reply was just what she expected. It gave her a shock. In her excitement, she caught hold of him. Are you sure? She demanded, yes, came the decisive answer. My mind is made up as firmly as it'll ever be on any matter. You'll help me? Say you'll help me. Jimmy walked about in a flutter. The situation was critical and called for strenuous action. Finally, she paused. as though some practicable scheme had occurred to her. There's one thing I will do, she said, pointing to the writing table.

Scribble her a note, a line, and I'll give it to her. That won't attract attention. I've no objection to do that much for you. Hurry up. You'll find a note paper in the drawer. What bunglers you men are! Here's a pen. Will a J suit you?

By this time she was as brink. breathlessly intent on the affair as Farne Combe himself, and had followed him to the table and thrust a pen into his hand. What shall I say? he cried, gazing up at her for inspiration. They looked into each other's eyes in blank dismay. Well, I never, she laughed. I don't know. Still, it isn't exactly a love letter, is it? Simply say, what was the expression you used just now? Will you allow me to remain, behind for a few minutes with Miss Birch after the others have gone. Thank you, sighed Farncombe, beginning to write. You can call me, Jimmy, if you like. She conceded.

Thank you, he said. The girl knit her eyebrows thoughtfully. Someone might return at any second, yet on reconsideration. The note would sound rather bald in its present form. I suppose you ought to give her an inkling, though. the merest hint of the reason oughtn't you, she asked. Farncombe looked up anxiously. Do you think so? He said.

Well, you don't want her to imagine it's only a chat about the weather. For heaven's sake, don't chafe me, he said earnestly, and began to write on his own account. How will this do? I know I am presuming a lot, but I, I can't leave you till I, till I have asked you, the most important question a man can put to a woman. Oh, but that's ideal, she cried, clapping her hands. Gabrielle came in, but did not hear Jimmy's Satovoche exclamation. Dash those girls.

The truth being that Gabrielle's complexion was much improved, and Miss Birch promptly noted the fact. Lord Farncombe is writing me out a remedy for freckles. Isn't it sweet of him? she said, Freckles, murmured Gabrielle mournfully. If you want to see a martyr to Freckles, knock at my door. Now Enid joined them. Her lips were a little too red and her cheeks a little too pink, but she looked charming,

as Vaughn Retin-Mayer evidently thought when he and DeCastro entered with tumblers and a siphon of soda water. I hope we have not kept you waiting, he cried. Bertie the bin Macon himself a regular kneweth the down thereth, exclaimed De Castro. Poor Bertie, said Enid. It's a pity he has this little failing. Gabriel became even mildly enthusiastic. There's not a nicer boy in London. Bar that, she said, do be quick, muttered Jimmy Birch under her breath. And Farncombe completed and folded the note hastily. No one was paying any. heed to them because bland and roper were hauling fulkerson upstairs and the trio encountered lily on the landing nere miss pa dell cried fulkerson indignantly now you can have it out with her said roper who is puffing like a grandpa's my what's wrong demanded lily

most unjustifiable treatment in the part of these gentlemen said fulkerson lurching into the room after her and scowling at his supporters the dear youth is irate with us for cutting off supplies put in bland responding to the questioning look in lily's face am arguments this said fulkerson doggedly when a gentle lehman's invited be the lady of the house to partake if reflishman oh be quiet bertie or i'll box your ears said the girl, turning from him with a shrug of good-natured tolerance. I've had such a wigging for asking you all up. Mother says we girls'll look as ugly as sin on the stage tonight. So we shall absolute hags, agreed Enid. I feel as fresh as paint, laughed Lily.

Give me a sip of your soda water, Gabrielle. Fulgerson denied any further stimulant and still dominated by an unacknowledged fear of Lily Paradale turned his attention to the sleeping Daphne. He gazed at her stupidly and began to sing to himself, Oh, the gals, oh the gals! I am awfully fond of the gals. The barren and roper, even the elderly Sam, who ought to have known better, began to hum the ridiculous air,

whereupon bland, with a fine assumption of authority, screwed in his eyeglass firmly. Hush! Hush! quite right, he said, seating himself at the piano. One more turn, and then let's clear out, and his fingers ran lightly up and down the keyboard in the prelude to a languorous waltz. Lily Paradale, whose fund of vitality was apparently inexhaustible and feeling, perhaps, that as hostess, she must not allow herself to wear even the semblance of in-hospitality leaped up from the chair into which she had dropped. Hurrah!

One more dance, she cried. Shut the door, Uncle Lull. Choose your partners, gents, cried the irrepressible roper, and Jimmy Birch ran across the room to thrust Farncom's note into Lily's poem. Rat Tat, says the postman, she whispered, and, promptly seizing roper, swung him off in a waltz. Lily found that Farncombe was looking at her. She signaled to him gaily, and soon they were whirling. around with the others, while Falkerson nearly frightened Daphne out of her wits by pulling her off

the sofa and literally dragging her into the waltz movement before she was well awake. Lily, aware of something curious and hidden about the note she was holding, opened it and glanced at the contents over Farncombe's shoulder. Dear Miss Parodal, she read, then she turned horribly to the signature. Is this from you? She said, lifting her eyes to her partners for an instant. Yes, he answered hoarsely. She read on quietly to the end. When she stopped dancing,

and the two stood for a little while, gazing confusedly at each other, the girl's face was otherwise quite expressionless. She slipped the note into her dress and held out her arms again with a mute invitation that they should continue the waltz. It had a pleasant refrain, and by this time, most of the others were humming it if you would only only love me if you would merely merely say wait but a little a little for me i will be yours be yours some day at last bland shut down the piano lid with a bang ladies and gentlemen he said rising and bowing gracefully the festivities connected with miss parodale's birthday are over our lives will now resume their normal serious course there was a murmur of approval. Even the brightest and liveliest of gatherings must have an end.

Though they all felt that this supper and dance would be memorable in the annals of the Pandora Theater, nobody can say the affair hasn't been a brilliant success. That's one comfort, cried Roper. It wouldn't be true if they did, said Gabrielle. She turned to De Castro, who was helping her with a rap, and exclaimed in a snappy aside, you have got it inside out. Ah, yes, haven't we had a splendid, splendid time? cried Lily. Splendid, echoed Enid, a charming bardi. Absolutely, I won. There was even a snatch of melody. Venus Sainan Naken, Uttur dine, Sclav. The Inspirit. Lily ran to roper and seized his hands. A vote of thanks to Uncle Lull for his share in getting it up, she cried,

Bravo, lull, said Bland, slapping rope her on the back. And to Carlton, added the girl, don't forget Carlton, or Morrie, Coulin, put in DeCastro, struggling with his overcoat. Oh, no, no, she cried, we can't forget dear old Mori. There hathn't been a hitch from thirt to finneth, added DeCastro. Not a hitch, said Lily. Fulgerson suddenly recollected his grievance and struggled. and struck a discordant note, I beg old pardon, there wash a itch,

when a genly manish, invited, with the lady of the house to partake if some refreshment. His words were drowned in an outburst of laughter, and Lily whispered to Bland, Do take care of him. In the midst of a chorus of farewell, she seemed to bethink herself

of something which had slipped her memory. Uncle Loll, Jimmy, she cried, I want to speak to you too for a second. Oh, and you, Lord Farncombe, now, you others, no noise, please. Or revue sans adieu, mes infants. Vincent, you close the front door. She watched her guests descending the stairs and returned to the room. Her manner had become strangely soft and subdued.

Lord Farncombe wants to have a quiet talk with me about, about something, she said, addressing Roper, and he has asked me to let him remain behind with Jimmy for a few minutes. But there's no necessity for you to wait, dear, she added, looking at her friend, oh, don't consider me, gasped Jimmy, but I do. Go upstairs and tell mother that Lord Farn comes with me. Say I promise he shan't stay long. You'll take Jimmy home, won't you, lo? Robber's eyes were starting out of his head. This development, pleasant as it was, had come upon him with the overwhelming force of an avalanche. With pleasure, he stammered.

I shall see you again later in the day. Perhaps, said Lily to Jimmy, affecting a commonplace manner she was far from feeling. Rather, rather, and the girl's arms were flung around Lily's neck, while the two kissed affectionately. darting a significant order at roper sit in the hall till i'm ready jimmy ran out pausing at the door before she ascended the stairs to bestow a smile and a parting nod on farnecombe the stockbroker was in a state of ill subdued exhilaration his was a good-natured soul and he rejoiced in the promised outcome of his scheming yes yes he bleated i won't keep these yew lambs from their tete to tat catch me laughing hysterically he patted lily's face and took a hand in both of his lil he said you call me uncle low but i've always felt much more like a parent towards you acted as such a yes dear she murmured and any happiness that befalls you any happiness that befalls you he choked over the words well i'll leave it there god bless you god bless you then he bustled across to farncombe who in the pretence of departing with the others held his hat in his hand and carried an overcoat on his arm and god bless you my lad i am proud proud to have the honor

to have been the means of the means of he broke off to wring the young man's hand heartily and muttered. Anyhow, God bless you both, I, I'll drop in by and by, and inquire after you, my pet. All right, lo, said Lily faintly. Ha, ha, ha, the little man did a hop, skip and a jump in his elation. Whir-ru, he shouted, stand away from the lift. No more passengers this journey, and out he went. Then the two faced each other. At last they were alone. the only movement in the room was the gentle stirring of muslim curtains when a light breeze sighed through an open window they listened almost breathlessly it would seem to roper descending the stairs and humming the refrain of the walls if you would only only love me if you would merely merely say wait but a little a little for me i will be yours be yours some day light footsteps raised across the landing jemmy birch was hurrying to join her escort a door closed beneath a motor purred in the street from the trees in the square came an angelic course of birds greeting the sun end of chapter twelve

chapter thirteen of the mind the paint girl this is a leper fox recording all labor fox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit laborfox dot org the mind the paint girl by Louis Tracy. Chapter 13, which begin to glow. It was Farncombe who first found his tongue, placing his overcoat and hat on the nearest chair. He advanced towards the girl with outstretched hands. It's awfully kind and gracious of you to have granted my request, he said, and frightfully selfish of me to have made it, I deserve to be kicked. She avoided his gaze, though his eyes were devouring. her, he was far too nervous to see that she was compelling herself.

To regain control of her faculties. Perhaps of her emotions is, is Jimmy aware of precisely what's in your note? She asked quietly, yes, he drew a little nearer, but she had contrived to place herself so that a table intervened, and when he threatened to pass that barrier, she moved slightly, aimlessly fingering some object on it, but studiously avoiding him. I do hope you won't be angry with me for confiding in her, he said, and she could not fail to catch the tension in his voice. You see, I, I had to give her a reason.

Lily shrugged her shoulders. She was still deeply interested in some photograph or knick-knack of the boudoir, and she will confide in Uncle Loll. She commented with a mood of smiling discontent. Oh, but their old Loll appears to have summed up the situation pretty accurately as it is, and she marked the afterthought by an artificial little laugh. Well, I'm afraid they'll be horribly disappointed, poor wretches. Disappointed? said Farncombe blankly. He dared not, even to himself, admit that he understood.

Then the girl raised eyes that were electrically blue in this searching light, and shook her head at him reprovingly, you silly, silly boy, she cried, though strive as she might, she could not tune her mood to the requisite pitch of Raleigh. In his sudden despair, Farncombe disregarded her obvious wish to keep him at a distance. He came closer with an impetuous movement and seized a hand. Ah, please, please don't take that tone with me, he cried, I'm no boy, and I'm simply mad about you. if you don't marry me i i'm done for the eager pleading on balance words came to humbling out without any heed to form or sense yet they stirred lily parridel a good deal more than she cared to show nor did she find it an easy task to utter her thoughts to marshal them in ordered sequence all she could say was hush nonsense not you it's true life will be over for me from the moment you refuse to marry me over he was aware only of the effort at mockery he could not guess what that effort cost her naturally the love is all on my side at present he said striving desirings

to shake her apparent self-possession. But, as God hears me, it will be no fault of mine if you don't grow to love me in time. Listen, she broke in, but the tumult in his heart was unendurable, and he cried frantically, I'll worship you, worship you, I do worship you. Lord Farncombe, you know my name, how can I? Won't you, dear, please, for today, eddie well then eddie ah he seemed to consider it so great a point gained that she retracted hurriedly sit down a minute she entreated and she herself dropped into a chair evidently she was somewhat ruffled and she pushed her hair back from her forehead impatiently as though vexed at her own lack of will-power now lord farncombe eddie for how long have you known me she said severely or with what she intended for severity what does it matter he urged i-i admit But Lily held up a warning hand and nodded her pretty head in a most business-like way.

Reckoning our acquaintance from the afternoon Bertie brought you here, she said, When, as it happened, we scarcely spoke to one another. You haven't met me as many times as you can count on your fingers, but I've watched you, watched you in the theater. She laughed quite pleasantly, with the ready tolerance of experience for simplicity. on the stage oh you but i mustn't call you a silly boy again must i and pray what do you know of me apart from the few glimpses you've had of me off the stage and the fact that i'm a shining light of the pandora what do you know of my what's the word origin where and what i've sprung from how i was reared how much education i've received how much i've contrived to pick up of the way to behave in her light society you can judge from my poor mother if from nothing else that i came from humble beginnings yes but how humble you couldn't dream

not after a supper of raw carrots if she fancied that by the concluding deaf touch of low comedy she could bring this young man to realize the absurdity of the absurdity of the dirt dream he was harboring already. She was mistaken. He bent forward in the chair he had occupied close to hers and said earnestly, do you think I care how humble your beginnings were? What do I know? What I am sure about is that you're good and beautiful and and and gifted. And, oh, I can't describe you. You're, to me, you're perfect. Perfect. she looked at him with blinking eyelids you you dear he took heart of grace at that remark so she resumed her pose of gentle irony instantly perfect she repeated marcy we pour the moment hear my french it's a nice language for for expressing one's self agreeably but the eminent slip had been so narrowly averted that she grew confused and took a box of cigarettes from the table.

Have one? No, don't get up. And she tossed a cigarette to him before he could rise. My name is printed on them. Lily, isn't it chic? The lovelorn youth at once produced a cigarette case and exchanged one of his own for that which she had given him. I'll never smoke that, he vowed.

She flushed slightly and pushed a match stand across the table. Don't be stupid. She said, nervously aware that this man, alone among her friends, had the trick of disconcerting her. Now, attend to me, please. Let us look back a bit over the uninteresting career of Lily Paradell, the mind-the-paint girl. What do you say to a start in a tiny provision shop in Kennington over the water? Add rubble. Does it matter which bank of the thames you were born on?

Lily? She blew a little puff of smoke at him playfully. You've got to understand. She said, feeling sure of herself now, sure that she could disillusion him, yet hardly knowing what a fact the process might have on her own feelings afterwards, that was my start in the world. Father kept a small shop in Kennington, Gladwin Street, near the Oval. We sold groceries and butter and eggs and cheese.

and pickled pork and paraffin. I was born there on the second floor, and in Gladwin Street I lived till I was fourteen. Then father smashed, through the stores cutting into our little trade. Well, hardly smashed. That's too imposing. The business just faded, and one morning we didn't bother to take the shutters down. Then, after a while, Father got a starvation birth, 18 shillings a week, at a wholesale bacon warehouse price and mosleys still over the water and i earned an extra five at a place in the westminster bridge road for pasting the gilt edges on to pass part from nine a m till six in the evening her hearer's head was bowed he seemed to find it hard almost impossible to picture the popular idol of the pandora theatre as one among the hordes of anemic ill-aer's ill-dressed girls whom he had seen passing to and from their work at those very hours silent swift moving with pinched pallid faces grim and gaunt beyond their years great heavens he muttered don't you breathe a syllable against the pass partus said lily affecting lightly to misunderstand him they were the making of me it was the past partus that brought me and tethered the past partus that brought me and tethered

together. Teder? He glanced up inquiringly. The name was new to him. Oh, you've never heard of Tender? She laughed. In the house where I worked. A way up on one of the upper floors, a man named Ambrose Teder taught dancing, stage dancing, Teder's Academy of Saltatory Art. I can see those words now, in white letters on a brown door, and many a time as I passed and heard. his violin or piano and the sound of his pupils' feet. I felt something rise in my soul that took a bit of the guilt off the picture frames during the next half hour. Oh dear, once I get talking of those days, she broke off abruptly and threw herself back, but suddenly recollecting the disagreeable task she had imposed on herself, she began to talk again swiftly, almost passionately,

relapsing of said purpose into the colloquial slang of the Kennington Park Road. When other girls were going to school, I was earning my living. She cried, I've never passed through the flapper age. It was work for me almost as soon as I could read properly. Well, ultimately tender took me and trained me. Did it for Nix, for what he hoped to get out of me in the future. My word, he hasn't lost over me. poor old ambrose he collared a third of my salary for ever so long and now that the old chap's rheumaticky and worn out ay it's not worth mentioning she sprang up and walked half-way across the room

the habit of the stage was strong upon her and this bit of real life was not to be laid bare in all its unattractive crudity while she was sitting like a decorous young lady at a tea-party my stars he could tea-y could tether, she vowed. I began by going to him for the last 20 minutes of my dinner hour. He wanted to stop that, because it was bad for me, he said, to practice on a fool. A fool. Oh, it's too funny. As if my poor little tummy ever was full in those days. She was laughing now, but there were tears in her eyes, and the man who loved her held out his hands in mute appeal that she would distress herself no more, that involuntary, Action warned her that she must continue. I was a pupil of Tettors for twelve months. She went on more collectively, and then he got me on at the Canterbury. And from the Canterbury, I went to Gatties,

and from Gatties to the Lane, for a few lines in the pantomime and an understudy. My first appearance in the West End. Oh, the West End is the best end. You remember the song? No, of course. course you don't you were a good little boy going to school when i was earning my living from there i went to the old strand and then did a turn at the canterbury where thank my stars vincent bland dropped in one night and heard me sing a little song morrie cooling spotted me too and that led to my being engaged at the pandora where i ate my heart out doing next to nothing for two whole years then came the production of the Duchess of Brixton, and it was in the Duchess, owing to Vincent's good memory, that I sang, mind the paint. He believed in me, did Vincent. He saw that I was fit for something more than just prancing about and airing my ankles in a gay frock. By Jove, how he fought for me, how he fought for me up to the final rehearsal, and to this day, whenever I indulge in a prayer,

you bet Vincent Bland has a paragraph all to himself in it. Something in Farncom's dejected attitude warned her that she had gone far enough. She walked over to him and put her hand lightly on his shoulder, and her manner changed. I am sorry, she said. I needn't have inflicted quite so much of my biography on you, but I did want to tell you enough to show you. To show you. He sprang upright and gazed into her eyes with a passionate intensity. That might be startling, but could not fail to charm the woman whom he said he loved,

and he completed the sentence with no little skill to show me what a marvel you are, he said. For an instant she forgot the moral of her lecture, despite her wonderful success on the stage. She was only a girl in heart, and it was gratifying to find such a man, hanging upon her very words, praising her without stint for what she had done, taking her for what she was rather than for what she had been. She cooed with the low, joyous laugh of the woman who knows that she is holding spellbound, the man who loves her, carried away by the excitement at the moment. She put her hands familiarly on his shoulders. Yes, she said breathlessly, and all the schooling I've ever had, Eddie, was at a time.

cheap, frowsy day school in Kennington, with a tribe of other common, skinny-legged brats. Imagine it. I don't say I'm not proud of myself, really. Why shouldn't I be? Many a woman would feel as vain as a peacock in my shoes. Fancy! From the shop in Gladwin Street to this! And one hand swept regally around her domain,

and from Teter's stuffy room in the Westminster Bridge Road to the stage of the Pandora as principal girl. It's an achievement, of course, and I did it myself. Everything I've learned since, except my music, which I owe to Teter and Vincent, but everything else I've learnt by sheer cuteness from novels, the papers, the theaters, and by keeping my ears open like a cunning little parrot.

Ah, that's what I am. Just a clever little parrot. not a word of jice of the long walks together of the hours spent in picture galleries and museums these were forgotten for the hour she laughed leafily and farncom laughed with her he was beginning to hope again he drew the happiest auguries from this tender intimacy oh and i dare say she went on tossing her head in a careless gesture that was characteristic i could imitate the fine ladies you mix with so that in less than six months you'd hardly know the difference between them and me he caught her hands and held them to his breast there is no difference already he murmured there is no difference already he murmured there is no difference already he murmured there is no difference already there is a difference already is none isn't there and she almost nestled up to him ah but you should see me in one of my vile tempers then then you wouldn't becoming conscious of how close she was to him and of a dangerous topic she moved back quickly and looked at him with a flush of embarrassment anyhow she said anyhow it isn't my intention to give you a chance of comparing us oh miss parridel he broke in. No, she said firmly, I am not going to let you make a fool of yourself over me if I can help it. A fool? He cried, is it folly that I should want you to be my wife? But she was mistress of herself now, and she spoke quietly but decisively.

You must recollect, however shrewd and apt I may be, and however straight I've managed to keep myself, still I am only a pen. Pandora girl and would always be remembered as one of your chums and belongings. Only a Pandora girl. Nothing can alter that, dear boy, and you mustn't. You really mustn't handicap yourself by hanging me round your neck. He flared into protest at that. What law is there? He cried eagerly.

That says a man shall not marry the woman he loves. and if I might dare to add the woman who loves him, should I be the first of my class to marry an actress? No, she answered seriously, but without wishing to flatter you, I don't quite put you on a level with some of the fellows who have married girls from the theater. They were nice boys, but rather what you might call rotters.

You are not like any of them, not a little bit. And so, she added cheerfully, turning away to take his hat and coat and give them to him. I mean to take care of you, not only for your own sake, but for your daddies and mammy's sake, too. Now, time's up. He had a daze look in his eyes which hurt her dreadfully, and there was a slight pause, during which neither of them stirred. Then she forced herself to say with a certain flippancy, now, Eddie, never mind, you'll certainly. survive it. Come along. She passed him, meaning to enforce her words by opening the door. But before she knew what had happened, Barncombe had flung aside his hat and coat and had clasped her in his arms. Lily, Lily, he almost sobbed. Ah, that's not fair, she cried. But don't, don't send me away like this. It isn't fair of you. Say you'll take time to consider. Oh, I shall hate you for it, and I have trusted you.

Ask Roper's advice, your mother's, he pleaded. Eddie, Lord Farncombe. There was no mistaking her tone this time. He released her, and they confronted one another. She panting and wild-eyed with what she thought was only surprise, he hanging his head guiltily. Well, well, she stammered. I have been mistaken in you.

he turned away in an attitude of blank despair and struck his temples with his clenched fists i i forgive me at least forgive me he said brokenly ha and i i thought you were such a quiet bashful fellow i can only ask you to forgive me he said again with an utter dejection that had a far more potent effect than he knew she was evidently wavering and after a moment indecision approached him slowly. Don't. Don't fret about it, she said gently. I do forgive you. If anybody is to blame, it is I, and she drew a deep breath. I had no business to give you all those dances. Her words seemed to stir irresistible memories, and he swung round on her, seizing her hand and kissing it passionately. I may see you again, he asked. Say, I may see you again. Lily, Lily, Lily, she averted her head, for the strain was beginning to tell upon her. No, she whispered, we better not. Then, when the tension was becoming unendurable, they were both aware of a low but distinct knocking on the door,

which communicated with the landing and staircase. The girl withdrew her hand quickly, and each looked at the other, he inquiringly, and she was a sort of scarer which passed instantly when the knocking was repeated. Mother, she cried, is that you? She went to the door and took hold of the handle, but, with the natural nervousness of a woman in face of the unexpected, at such a time and place, did not open the door at once. That's you, mother? She cried more loudly. There was no answer. Again came that mysterious tap upon the panels. Then who is it? She said boldly, and opened the door with a jerk. A man was standing there. A tall man whose overcoat was buttoned up to his chin and who was

wearing a cap drawn low over his brows. But one swift glance at the drawn white face and determined jaws told her the startling truth. Nico, you! She almost screamed. How have you got in? Jice entered without uttering a word, and there was a turculence, almost a murderous fierceness in his manner which caused her to start and spring back in alarm, while Farncombe took a hurried pace or two forward, but Jais stood stock still once he was well in the room, and, after a questioning glare at the young vice-count, at the young Viscount, as though daring him to come nearer, he produced a bunch of keys, and grimly displayed a latch-key. The sight of it seemed to rouse Lily Paradale to a heedless fury.

Oh, she almost screamed, running to close the door, and then swiftly turning to appeal to Farncombe. I owe you an explanation of this insolence. Captain Jice is in the habit of bringing me home from the theater after my work, and a long while ago I gave him a latchkey, so that he could let me into my house whenever I had forgotten my own key. He hasn't the slightest right to use at any other time, and nobody knows that better than he does. It's a confounded liberty. Then she turned on Jice, with lightning in her eyes. What are you doing here at all this hour of the morning?

She asked. Jice almost ignored her. He bent an expressive glance on Farncombe, a glance which conveyed the insult it intended. An odd question in the circumstances, he said. answered, answer me, cried Lily determinedly. Why are you here? I'm keeping an eye on you, he growled. Spine on me, she said bitterly. Oh, on both of you. And he jerked his head towards Farncombe with that same hint of deadly insult. How dare you? How dare you? She cried. I have been at it all night, too. I was even in the theater while you were supping and dancing. You were? And the girl's voice

almost cracked in her excitement. Yes, I meant to be there. You did your best to stop it. That's a lie. She broke in vehemently so that you could enjoy yourself thoroughly with this young spark. He continued, giving a malicious emphasis to each biting word. Again, a lie, she breathed her. I didn't leave till past three, he explained. Still speaking with a cool manabulence that carried deadly conviction. You and your friend there had just had your fifth dance together, and they were hauling you round the building. Where were you? she demanded,

almost stunned by the consciousness that he must really have been in the theater. Excuse me, that's my business, he retorted. Then when I could stand it no longer, I went back to German Street. But it suddenly struck me that I should like to see how your home-going escort was composed. You've been watching outside? She said, moved to a bitter contempt, since a quarter to four, under the portico at the corner. Then, yielding to a sense of intolerable wrong, he cried hoarsely. But my God, I wasn't quite prepared for this.

This! Lily screamed the word as though he had struck her with a whip. Jice crammed his cap into his overcoat pocket and strode close up to Farncombe. What the hell's your game? He demanded fiercely, you've got some accommodating friends, both of you, in that blackguard, roper, and that slut, Jimmy Birch. For an instant it seemed as though the two men meant to fly at each other's throats. The girl sprang between them.

Her fists clenched and her eyes blazing. Oh, you cur, she said. In the accents of ineffable scorn, you low cur. End of Chapter 13. Chapter 14 of The Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Librevox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. Maine. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org.

Recording by Jude Summers The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy Chapter 14 And ultimately burst into flame Farncombe was the first to recover some measure of sanity. He had been stung almost to the madness of attacking G's by the coarse and brutal insinuations which had come from the man's lips. But the greater horror which he feared,

that Lily herself should strike her slander, induced an anguished appeal for restraint. Miss Paradel, he cried, and drew her away gently. Oh, you cur, she said again, glaring at G's with bitter eyes. My mother has been told that Lauren Farncombe is with me. I sent Jimmy up to tell her.

Where is your mother? asked the rasping demand. In bed, of course. Snoring? Ha! Ha! F! There's an ugly name, my girl, for mothers such as yours. Oh! Oh! She could not even speak intelligibly now,

but that low wail wrung Farncombe's heart with agony. Bitterly conscious that this vulgar intruder had some sort of right to be there, he kept his head. Captain G's, he said sternly. "'Do you happen to know where I live?' "'For an instant, G's condescended to look at him. "'No,' he snarled. "'I don't know where your stye is.'

"'St. James Place, 47. "'I shall be in at twelve o'clock.' His steady look and resolute air quieted Gies for a moment, and Farncombe picked up his hat and overcoat. He turned to the half-franzied girl. From the tone this gentleman adopts, Miss Paradel, he said, I assume that he considers himself entitled to concern himself in your affairs. I hope to have an opportunity to dispute his claim.

Perhaps it will make it easier for you now if I... Lily ran to him and caught his arm despairingly. "'Ah, I'm so indignant that I don't know what to say,' she sobbed. "'But you must not go, Eddie, until... Eddie, Eddie! Despite the acute distress of the moment, the two became aware of the heartbroken way in which G's repeated his rival's name.

But the knowledge that he was suffering only stirred the girl to a new fury. She turned on him with a spitfire intensity that was appalling. Yes, you cad, she screamed. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! You wretched sneak, you idler, you, Waster! But I've done with you now. I've stood it long enough. This is the last straw,

and I'm sick to death of you. How I've tolerated you all these years is a mystery to me. After this, get out of my sight, and never show yourself to me again. For answer, G's grasped her wrist fiercely. Lily, he began, but before Farncombe could interfere, which he was strongly tempted to do. She had wrenched herself free, and apparently lost all control over herself. What? She shrieked. You spy on me, will you, you shabby loafer? You'll peep at me while I'm eating my supper and count the dances I choose to give that boy over there, will you? And then you'll break into my house and insult my friends behind their backs and insinuate foul things against my poor old mother. You damned coward!

And against me and him? Why, you're not fit to black his boots. And you never were, never, you scum! Here! And she took Farncombe's note from her bosom and thrust it upon G's. Read that! Read it! Read it! Out loud!

Because G's had begun to read silently. He obeyed, but awkwardly, mumbling the words. Dear Miss Paradel, will you allow me, "'Louter!' she stormed. "'Will you allow me,' he resumed, "'to remain behind for a few minutes with Miss Jimmy "'after the others have gone? "'I know I am presuming a lot,

"'but I cannot leave you "'till I have asked you the most important question "'a man can put to a woman, "'Farncombe.' "'In the reaction from ungovernmental raigs to triumph, for there was no mistaking the red hue of defeat, mounting in Nico G's face. Lily became breathlessly explanatory. Written here, on my notepaper, while I was out of the room, she gasped.

It came on me like a thunder-clap, and Morrie cooling and Lall will tell you that I hadn't the ghost of a notion that Lauren Farmcombe was to be at the supper last night, or any of the boys, not a notion. And I blackguarded both of them for deceiving me and causing me to deceive you. I wrote it to them, even mentioned you in the letter. Now, what have you to say? Oh dear, oh dear! Gies had flung himself into a chair, and his gloomy eyes studied the pattern of the flamboyant carpet. Why the devil did you let Jimmy go? he said huskily. Why did you let her go? It was knowing that you and Farncombe were alone that made me, oh, if I had suspected that a private detective was hovering around, I'd have kept the lot of my friends, was the disdainful reply. As it was, Jimmy was looking dead,

and, pah, why should I explain? Gies partly straightened himself, and drew a hand wearily across his forehead. Well, I, I beg your pardon, he said brokenly. I'm not so completely scum as not to see that I ought to beg your pardon. I can't do more now. I beg your pardon. As was her way, Lily softened more readily than she had yielded to rage. You, you drive me mad sometimes, positively frantic, she said, swayed by some vague imagining that, if only she could restore relations to their normal state, the effect of a most disagreeable scene might yet be mitigated. Mad, repeated G's, partly to himself. Yes, that's a truer word.

He turned to the young Viscount, who, on his part, was completely undecided whether he ought to go or stay. And you, Farncombe, he said, I hope you'll accept my apologies. I offer them unreservedly. The only indication that Farncombe had hurt him was a stiff bow, at which G's sank his head again, bewildered, crushed, almost abased.

And Lily glanced with a newborn timidity from one man to the other. She was beginning to realize that her one-time lover must have suffered. She felt strangely humbled, too, because of the much finer attitude Farncombe had adopted than she herself when stung by false accusation. I didn't mean half I said, Nico, she faltered. I really didn't mean half of it, and I'm ashamed of losing my self-control as I did.

There was a long and awkward pause before G's rose to his feet and silently returned the note. Lily looked up at him piteously and put the slip-up. of paper back into her bosom, but he seemed to give no heed. Taking out his key ring, he removed the latch key from it and threw the key on the table. Then, dragging the cap from his overcoat pocket, he was making for the door without another word. But this was too much. The girl raced after him and caught him by the sleeve. "'Niko, Nico!' she said. "'Well,' he muttered thickly, what more is there to say? Won't you, won't you give Lord Farncombe some explanation?

Explanation? Of the sort of terms we've been on, you and I. He must be rather puzzled. Isn't it due to you as well as to me? He faced her with a curiously subdued air. Just as you please, he said, laughing dully. Oh yes, perhaps it is due to me that he should learn a little more about me

than he has been able to gather from personal observation, and your eloquent but summary description. Idler, wester, loafer. He repeated the words almost under his breath, screwing up his cap the while like a lubberly boy who has been detected in some fault. He seemed to be almost unaware of a sobbing exclamation from Lily, but walked slowly nearer to Farncombe,

on whom he fixed a heavy, yet curiously impersonal stare. It's a true bill, he said, and yet, a very few years back, she won't dispute it. I was one of the smartest chaps going, good at my job, with prospects as rosy as any man's in my regiment. There wasn't a cloud the size of your hand, apparently, in my particular bit of the sky at the time I speak of, not a speck. Then I met this young lady, and, well, since we're in for it, he indicated vaguely that they should sit down.

He himself was tired, worn out with sheer physical strain. Farncombe murmured something which signified his unwillingness to hear a disclosure which might be painful to the narrator. But, geez, with some return of his wanted masterfulness, waved aside the interruption. No, no, he exclaimed determinedly. She wishes you to understand the exact nature of the friendship between her and me. I'm obeying her instructions, so you've got to listen. The two men sat down, facing each other. Lily kept away from them, almost timidly it would seem.

For the moment, the ex-captain of infantry dominated the situation. I was under thirty, and still a subaltern, he said. when I made Miss Paradel's acquaintance. Like most of my pals, I was spending my nights, whenever I could get away from Aldershot, in the stalls at the Pandora, much the same as you've been doing,

and as a certain class of young men will go on doing, as long as the Pandora, and similar shops, continue to flourish. Ha! How honored we felt, we men, in those days, at knowing some of the Pandora girls, and having the privilege of supping them and Standingham dinner on Sunday evenings. If they'd been royal princesses,

we couldn't have been more elated. Don't jump at conclusions. It generally ended there, or with our running into a debt at a jeweller's. We were young, and they were beautiful, or we thought him so. But the majority of us weren't vicious, any more than the majority of the girls were,

though many of them were mighty calculating. It would have been better for us, men if all the girls had been wicked. The glamour, the infatuation, the folly would have been sooner over, and one of us at least would have had a different tale to tell. He broke off abruptly to gaze again at the floor, and Farncombe moved somewhat impatiently. Lily crept forward quietly. She was anxious not to say anything calculated to wound G's again, but his reminiscences were travelling beyond her intent. I only wanted you, she began, but the sound of her voice roused him instantly,

though he merely tossed a question over his shoulder. Who was it introduced us? Miss Duquesne, Aggie Duquesne. Agnes Duquesne, she's gone under. Outside Buckley's oyster bar, wasn't it? Not outside, in the parlor. This rather absurd introduction of trivial detail seemed to serve a good purpose in making some of them feel that the recent storm,

lurid as it had been, had passed. Evidently, Lily Paradel thought so, but she was never more mistaken in her life. Gies neither met her eyes nor even gave much heed to her presence. It was Farncombe he was addressing, Farncombe who had to hear the truth. Lily had only lately come to the Pandora, he went on. A pale-faced slip of a thing, about eighteen. I confess I wasn't overwhelmingly attracted at first.

She was so unlike the rest, and he laughed bitterly. The girl joined in that ill-timed mirth, but she too was peering back into the mists. Yes, wasn't I doubty, she cried. He resumed as though she had not spoken. But she was humble and naive and confiding, and my vanity was ticker. by her delight at the little treats I gave her,

and her gratitude for a tupiny, hapany present or two. Nobody, I believe, with any pretensions to being a gentleman, had paid her much attention before I arrived on the scene. No, nobody, murmured Lily. I didn't find out that I was in love with her. You guess it's a love story, don't you? Farncombe again moved uneasily. This quiet, orderly recital,

was even more trying to his nerves than the preceding volcanic outburst. My dear Captain G's, he began, but the other stopped him with an uplifted hand. I didn't find out that I was over neck and heels in love with her till nearly a year afterwards, when my regiment went to the Cura. That did it, separation. What I suffered in that hole, thinking of her, starving for her.

In less than three months, I was in London again on leave. and in my old stall at the Pandora. But even then, Farncombe, I hadn't your pluck. Pluck? exclaimed the other, startled out of himself by this singular admission. Yes, said Jeeves, speaking now with a fierce animation. The pluck to snap my fingers at the world and propose marriage to a Pandora girl.

Besides, my mother was living then, and would you like to know what she used to call these Pandora women? He bent forward, his hands tightly clenched and spat out the words ferociously. She used to call them a menace to society. She wrote that to me one day. With their beauty and their flagrant opportunities for displaying it, they are a living curse, she used to say, a source of constant dread to mothers whose hopes it is to see their sons safely mated

to modest maidenly girls of the typical English pattern. She told us once, my brothers and me, frightened as to where we were drifting, that she was one of many mothers who prayed on their knees daily, that their boys might be spared from being drawn into the net woven by their own weaknesses and passions, drawn into it by these, these, he rose, choked on the word, and glared about him wildly for a moment. Oh, but I oughtn't to have repeated this to you. I'm sorry, it's damned bad taste. For an instant he leaned unsteadily on the table. Then he turned to Farncombe again with a confused air. "'Where was I? Back from the corah? Yes, yes. And so things went on for a couple of years. I trailing after Lily closer than ever, and at last, at last I did ask her to be my wife.' The girl, who was listening with parted lips and wide open eyes, cried appealingly,

"'Don't, Nico, please don't!' "'But he still appeared to be almost oblivious of her presence. "'I'd left it too late. "'The novelty of me had worn off. "'She had scores of friends by that time. "'She had made her big hit, and followed it by another, "'and was the talk of the town. "'And she had money, too.

"'She wasn't dependent on me any longer "'for her gloves and her trips and her outings. "'Lillie's head was drawn, drooping now, and she was wringing her hands in anguish. Oh, she sobbed. That's beastly of you. Beastly! She was kind to me in a way, he said.

Kind and cruel. She didn't want to marry me. She didn't want to marry anybody. She was in love with herself and her success, and what it was bringing her. But she wouldn't give me the kick. No, she wouldn't do that. I had been something to her, and there's where the kindness came in, and the merciless cruelty of it too.

Good God, if she had only broken with me then, firmly and finally, if she had only sent me away, then she might have saved me. Oh, Nico, Nico, came the tearful cry. Twelve months ago she did throw me a bone. This was an energetic fierceness that was devouring. in its self-scorn. The regiment was under orders for India, and, of course, I sent in my papers, and out of pity, I suppose, and because I was always pestering her, she promised to become engaged to me if I'd get other work to do. Work! I wonder really whether she was gritting to herself when she made that stipulation. Lily was now sobbing quietly, all the fire gone out of her, but the unhappy Farncombe

could not utter a word. Work, repeated G's. All the spunk, all the energy had been sapped out of me long before, and even her promise couldn't revive it. My search for a birth wasn't much more than a sham. At the back of my head, I knew very well what I had come to. The only work I was capable of was dancing attendance on her, and filling in what remained of the day and night at a rotten restaurant,

a bohemian club and the bar of the theatre. And that's been my sole employment for the past year. Nothing but that. Pretty for a man who started life as swimmingly as I did. Pretty. Pretty. His voice died away, and his eyes had the inward look of a man who was surveying the ruins of his life.

For a little while, there was a profound silence in the room. Lily had ceased the audible, half-shaust. hysterical breathing of a woman striving to stifle her tears. Indeed, when she spoke, her voice was strangely calm, though her utterance was somewhat labored. I don't think you've ever put the case to me quite so plainly as this, Nico, she said. I don't think I've ever put it quite so plainly to myself, he answered. Her lips trembled piteously, but she persevered. with a brave effort that was wholly lost on the man for whose sake she was making it.

"'You, you won't believe me now. "'I've never fully realized it till now, the harm I've done you. "'I declare to God I've never realized it till now.' "'Gees seemed hardly to heed her. "'He sighed again and turned to Farncombe. "'I'm afraid I've been a shocking brute,' he said resignedly. I can only plead that I got carried away. You must forget the things I've said of this girl.

Forget him, will you? And look here. A man who isn't a sportsman deserves to be shot. You've won her. I've lost her. I congratulate you, old chap. I do, on my soul. Take care of her, that's all.

Mind, you take care of her. His voice broke slightly on those last few words, and he jammed his cap on savage. as he made for the door once more. But Lily Paradale again caught his arm and drew him to her. No, no, Nico, Nico, she cried, clinging to him convulsively, after darting at Farncombe one half-frightened, half-employing glance. Nico, I can't undo the mischief I've done. I can't do that. But I can try to make it up to you, some of it, and I will if you'll let me. She flung her arms around his shoulders when he

have shrunk from her embrace, yet there was no response of tenderness in his manner, but rather angry surprise. "'Make it up to me. What do you mean?' he said gruffly. "'Ah, you must know what I mean,' she said, with a despairing earnestness, and thrusting her face close to his. "'Don't you understand? I'll marry you as soon as possible, next month if you like, next week, quietly.' The astounding words roused him.

from his stupor. He gripped her arms and stared at her blankly, but she only continued, with a feverish gaiety of manner that was more distressing than either her wrath or her humility. Yes, yes, you've been in too great a hurry to settle matters. You have. Lord Farncombe and I, we're not going to be married. I've refused him. I've ruined you, Niko, but I've told him, and I'm not going to draw him into my net. clinging to G's and burying her face against his breast, she cried again bitterly, Oh no, I'm not going to draw him into my net.

Both men were utterly astonished, the one because of the splendid renunciation she was making, the other because he heard in her frantic words the knell of his dearest hopes. But in her utter self-abandonment, she had no eyes for the bewilderment of the one or the dejection of the other. Raising her head and speaking with wonderful self-control, she said,

Nico, I want to have one more word with Lord Farncombe, just one more word, only a minute and then you must walk away together, you and he, and part good friends. G's, seemingly stunned by her willing sacrifice, for even in that bitter hour he could regard it in no other light, went out and closed the door behind him. Farncombe, who looked sick and dazed, was preparing to follow, when Lily, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief,

went to him and said forlornly, Well, you have had a lucky escape, haven't you? Escape, he murmured, incapable of understanding her. Yes, you've heard what a cold-blooded, selfish wretch I am, how I've treated Nico. He waved that aside, as though the idea were fantastic and repulsive, but she was not to be deterred,

and came close to him, gazing up into his face, frankly and pathetically. And you've seen what I'm like when I'm in a rage, she continued. You've seen what the genuine Lily Margaret Upjohn is without her disguise. Yes, that was me, Eddie, under the crust. common as dirt, my dear, common as dirt. And she clutched at the lapels of his coat.

Oh, he'll always remember me, with my eyes starting out of my head, spitting at Nico. He'll always picture that horrible sight when you think of me. You were provoked. I admired you for it, he said, striving vainly to find words that would heal while hiding his own agony. But he could not deceive her.

"'Ah, you dear boy,' she said tenderly. "'Eddy, had you a little hope "'that, after all, I might turn your offer over in my mind, "'and eventually—' "'Yes, yes,' he said heavily. "'Then I'll tell you something,' she whispered, "'and a new light flamed in her eyes. "'I might have if you had persisted.'

"'He quivered. as though she had struck him, and she remembered how he, too, must be suffering, and withdrew a step or two. Thank God Nico came along, she said, forcing her wan lips to utter the words. What was it his mother called us, girls? A menace to society.

Creatures to be dreaded and prayed against. You see, I was right in wishing to protect you for your mother's sake, as well as your own. But again, thank God that Neel came along. The unhappy man found the situation beyond him. He collapsed onto a settee and covered his face with his hands, but she only bent over him with soothing, eager solicitude. Ah, don't do that, Eddie. I'm not worth it, Eddie. You must listen. This is what I want to say to you. Don't come near me anymore. You really mustn't. And don't come to the theatre again. If I thought you were sitting in front,

I'm sure I couldn't. Her voice rose with a quick intensity of passion. Swear, swear you'll keep away from me and from the theater, and you'll never go to any supper or dinner or dance where you are likely to meet the other girls. Will you, Eddie? Swear it! He rose and met her eyes for a moment.

Though he made no answer, she read in his face the acceptance of her demand. At that, she took him by the shoulders again. her eyes blazed into his. Eddie, if one of the other girls ever got hold of you, I'd kill her! And she literally hissed the words at him. Then, darting away suddenly, she opened the door and G's came in. Now, march, both of you, she continued.

I'm pretty well baked. She caught hold of a hand of each man and joined them together with a mirthless laugh. "'Ha, ha, ha, I've made the pair of you precious miserable "'if you only knew it,' she said. "'The difference is,' she went on, turning to G's, "'that he'll soon forget me, "'but you, with me as a wife, are doomed for life.' "'Putting her hands on her prospective husband's shoulders,

"'she kissed him lightly, "'and then asked him a question with her eyes. "'He turned aside, and she offered her lips to Farncombe. "'Good-bye,' she said, almost quietly. "'Away with you.' They went out without another word, and she followed to the top of the stairs to watch them descend. Then she came slowly back into the room and listened,

as though she had committed some deadly crime. There was the sound of a closing door, and she looked around the empty room with a kind of horror in her eyes. End of Chapter 14. Chapter 15 of The Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Libravox recording. All LibraVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibraVox.org.

Recording by Susanna Mason. The Mind the Paint Girl by Lewis Tracy. Chapter 15. The morning after. Well there, sighed Mrs. Up John, absent mindedly pouring out another cup of tea. I've had a few ups and downs in my life, but this time I'm knocked all of. i feel as if i had slipped on a piece of soap on the top land and then found myself lying on the old mat she shot a cautious glance at her daughter who was lying propped up by pillows on a sette in the boudoir the girl held the newspaper in her hands but she'd obviously taken it as a refuge from the alternative of speech for her eyes were gazing sorrow-laden into vacancy ma was on grand tenue having made a careful toilette and expectation of early visitors but lily had merely thrown on a dainty dressing-gown over her night-dress thrust her bare feet into bedroom slippers, and bundled up her wealth of hair into a simple knot.

She was pale and heavy-eyed, yet more erratrally beautiful than when in her usual state of boisterous good health and high spirits. Her eyes seemed to be larger than ever, and the dark crescents beneath them led a violet tint to their sapphire blue. In a word, Lily was tired, for she had not slept beyond a fitful dose which came to her aid long after the sun was high in the heavens, and desperately I'm happy, and now that she was back in the everyday world, her share of the breakfast a cup of tea and some toast was practically untasted she had snatched at the newspaper before her mother could even pretend to have recovered from the shock of the curt announcement that she had refused lord fine combe and had promised to marry nick o jays at the nearest possible date and now that mrs upjohn was regaining the power of speech and had borne testimony to the same by

imagining the disastrous physical result of an involuntary von plan downstairs the rebellious lily had the rebellious lily had subsided into a stony silence. Ma felt like she had much to say, but literally dared not say it. So she sighed deeply again, sipped her tea, nibbled at a triangle of toast, and picked up in the newspaper, affecting an immediate and absorbing interest in the first article which caught her eye, which happened to be a lecture delivered before the Royal Society on Neolithic Man. Happily there was one member of the household who took life more cheerily that bright morning, "'Mod, occupied solely by the cares of her department,

"'bustled in from the adjoining dressing-room. "'Her hair was untidy as ever, "'and her arms were full of lingerie, "'but her good-humoured face was all smiles. "'What frock you put on?' she said to her mistress. "'The girl started slightly. "'The question brought her to earth with a shock. "'One of your embroidered maslins or your ninon?'

"'went on the affable maid. "'Either. "'I don't care,' said Lily, "'sinking back languidly among the cushions. "'Oh, gracious! does the matter with you this morning? I've never known you as queer as this after any hop you've been to my time. Then, mod, deeply concerned, turned to Mrs. Upjohn, who had been wondering vaguely what sort of man in theolithic one was. Nothing wrong, is there?

Maude, said Lily, bearing her head deeper in the cushions. Here I am, Lubby, so the girl hurrying across the room, go into the dressing room and shut the door behind you, and don't let me see your stupid fat face till I come to you. Maud regarded these things. muffled instructions as being exceedingly humorous. That's better, she cried, laughing heartily. Ha, ha, ha, ha. That's how I like to hear her talk. We needn't send for Dr. Gilson yet a while.

Ha, ha, ha. And the sounds of her mirth came from beyond the closed door. Lil, sinuses up, John, timidly. Yes, mother, was the faint reply. Have another cup of tea, won't you? No. Another bit of toast, then? No.

Smoke a cigarette? No. Come now, Ducky, urged the perplexed matron. You always do have a whiff after your breakfast. No. This time, quite determinedly. Mrs. Upjohn rose and walked aimlessly about the room. Oh, dear, oh dear, dost take Carlton Smyth and his suburb body.

Those are my sentiments. And Lall Roper, busy body that he is. Things were going on with us smooth and peaceful as could be before this upset. Ma's outspoken soliloquy. was effective. Lily raised herself angrily on her elbow. You were in it, mother, she protested. You ought as much to blame as anybody. Mrs. Upjohn started as though her daughter had thrown something at her. On in it, she said plaintively.

In Uncle Lau's artful plan to prevent Nico from being invited. You've confessed you were. As was her way, Mrs. Upjohn turned aside this arrow of fact. Low twisted me round his little finger. I was clay in the border's end, as your dad was fond of saying. Once aroused, the girl found she could not nestle down again into the cushions comfortably. If only Nicco had been there, she murmured, speaking to herself rather than addressing her disturbed parent. I shouldn't have given young Farncombe all those dances, nor wandered about with him in the intervals, nor allowed him to see me home. It all simply wouldn't, couldn't have happened.

Oh, mother! and she hit a cushion energetically. What? said Mrs. Upjohn weakly. The girl sat up, embraced her knees, and knitted her brows. I'm so surprised at myself, she cried. Surprised? Surprised? Yes, and so disappointed with myself.

Why, you haven't done anything that's not quite respectable, Lil? On the contrary. No, said the girl, gazing dreamily at nothing. I haven't done anything that's actually not nice, but fancy letting myself go with the young Farncom as I did. I knew he'd been admiring me from a distance for weeks and weeks, but I scarcely noticed him to last night. Now that she was in a more docile mood, Mrs. Upjohn had crept closer and seated herself on the setty, whereupon Lily leaned her head upon her mother's breast, in a childish way that was more

pathetic than the other woman imagined, and said softly, I always thought I was such a cold girl, mother, in that way. I suppose it's what's called love at first sight, Ducky, said Mrs. Upjohn, taking advantage, as she thought, of a suitable opening. She was considerably surprised and somewhat taken aback when her daughter's laughed harshly and appealed to her not to talk rot, but it was hopeless to expect a woman of her temperament to appreciate the real nature of the problem that was torturing Lily Paradel. Anyhow, it's not too late, Lil.

now, she began soothingly. Not too late, cried the girl, frowning in the effort to understand. To back out, dearie, came the explanation. The captain could possibly old youth to an acedy promise, given him between four and five in the morning. A mother, how can you? I've passed my word to Nicco, and I wouldn't break it for twenty thousand pounds. I'm going to pull Nico up, mother.

I've dragged him down, and I mean to raise him up. So help me, God, I do. And she raised clenched hands in the air to emphasize her despise her despairing resolve. Well, you've got a tough job before you, in my opinion, was all that Mark could find a say. Perhaps, but I mean to succeed, and nico or no, Nicco, I'm determined not to draw Eddie Farncom into my net. Into your net, Mrs. Upjohn dwells upon each word as though the repetition

stung her. That's twice you've made use to that remark, once now, and once when you nearly struck me dumb with your story of what happened this morning. ooh's accused you of pulling anybody into a net ooh she was interrupted by a lively rat tat on the door and jimmy birch bounced into the room looking as though supper and a dance following a strenuous night at the theatre were a series of invigorating exercises prescribed by a specialist her face was flushed after a brisk walk she wore a natty costume of black and white check with a magpie hat and a red parasol hello ma she cried there you are lilums then she kissed her misses up John with a cheerful aside we've met before this morning haven't we and coming to Lily pecked at her cheek but eyed her rather keenly well dear old girl and how are you today a wreck rather said Lily I ought to be but I'm not right along the visitor directly I laid my pretty head on the pillow I went off and I never stirred till I found the breakfast tray on my chest then she counted on her fingers five to six six to seven seven to eight eight to nine nine to ten to eleven I've had six hours. That's not so dusty. You didn't sleep very soundly, I suppose, she added shyly. Not fairy, said her friend dismally, but Jimmy only smiled the broad grin of complete comprehension. Excited, she demanded. Lily shrugged her shoulders.

There was an awkward silence until Miss Birch, still beaming with anticipation, saw that Mrs. Upjohn had settled herself disconsolately at some distance. May I sit down for a minute? She inquired dropping her voice. Of course, Jimmy, do, said Lily. The girl flopped into an armchair and evidently awaited some communication which was not forthcoming. Mom began to drum on the table with her fingers, and Lily busied herself with rearranging the cushions on the setty.

After a while, Miss Birch discovered that she really could not endure this state of uncertainty. I hope I haven't dropped in too early, she said with quiet sarcasm. lily settled her shoulders into the cushions not a bit dear she murmured it's nearly apast well and i dashed around she waited but the others said nothing and unable to restrain herself any further she cried eagerly any news any any anything to tell me yes said mrs up john abruptly what what lil's engaged ha ha cried miss birch triumphantly clapping her hands and beating her feet upon the floor ha ha ha that's the best thing i've heard for a month of sundays she sprang up and caught lily in her arms and hugged and kissed her delightedly oh you humbugs then she rushed at mrs up john and embraced her in turn you solemn humbug ma in her relation she danced off into the middle of the room singing the refrain of that last waltz if you only only love me if you would merely merely say wait a little little for me then her voice trailed off into silence since she couldn't help noting the sorrowful expression of Lily's face and the gloom which had settled upon Mrs. Upjohn. Ma was only abiding her time. She pounced now with a certain venom of tone. You had better wait a little. You'd better wait till you hear who she's engaged to.

Who to? Whom to, mother, said Lily, studying her nails. Why, isn't it Lord Fonko? demanded Jimmy. No, it ain't, snapped Mrs. Upjohn. It's the captain. the captain, Nicco? Oh! And Miss Birch drew a deep breath. Yes, said Lily calmly.

Nicco turned up here early this morning while Edie, while Lord Foncombe was with me, in fact, and I, we, the three of us, we talked matters over, and Miss Birch eyes were nearly starting out of her head. Was there a row? she said in an odd voice. Oh, don't be sorry. so curious jimmy grumbled lily poor nico has been after me for six years a girl must play the game if she's at all decent and wishes to preserve a shred of self-respect jimmy subsided into an arm-chair with a perfect decorum of manner that offered quaint contrast to her earlier elation and mrs up john gaining confidence from her presence moistened her lips with her tongue and said venomously how do you feel about it how do i feel about it repeated the girl thought

She looked at Lily and inquired in a still small voice, May I say? Certainly was a cold response. Well, she replied with slow deliberation, if I were on board ship at this moment, I should be ringing for the stewardess, that's how I feel about it. Her friend wriggled round convulsively among the cushions and hid her face.

Oh, she wailed. You're just like the rest of it. of our girls on the question of marriage. You're detestable. Miss Birch, sidled out of her armchair, flung herself on her knees by Lily's side, and threw her arms impetuously round the covering shoulders. Oh, Lil, Lil, she almost wept, but Lily Paradel had no mind for condolences. She repulsed the other almost harshly. Yes, you are, she cried shrilly. You rejoice to see me draw this boy into my net. You know you would. I dare say you jolly well wouldn't object at catching him yourself if you had half the chance but try it just try it you or any of you the

scandalized jimmy attempted to rise but was held fast oh she protested lil i'm perfectly ashamed are you speaking of jimmy birch in that manner said mrs upjohn majestically indignant lily's face was close to her friends and jimmy felt a scorching tearful on her cheek she doesn't mean it ma she said brokenly. And I hope not indeed. It ain't exactly pleasant to have a dog in the manger for a daughter. Why shouldn't young Farncombe turned his attention to Miss Birch pray, or to any young lady who don't object to take in your leave-ins? Ma was apparently addressing the circumambient air, but when Lily appealed her to hush, she strutted about and said emphatically, no, I won't ush. The visitor fancied that she had thrust herself all unwittingly into what she called a family row, and so she said,

she struggled to her feet and said quietly that she would come back in the afternoon. But Mrs. Upjohn had been waiting for an opportunity to flaunt her grievances and was not inclined now to let it escape. Lil seems to have got some maggot or other in her brain about drawing Lord Farncombe into her net, she exclaimed. Net, indeed. I would like to know what she means by that. As Lail Roper was saying yesterday, our tip-top aristocratic families ought to be extremely grateful that strong, healthy professionals are the class of Miss Arker and Miss Treveil and Miss Shafto are in their ranks, and if Lil chooses to be pig-headed enough. But Miss Birch had guessed shrewdly something of what Lily was suffering, and she cut short Mrs. Upjohn's

tirade by making for the door. Do have a bottle of ginger be it before you go, pleaded the older woman, clinging to the chance of enlightening her daughter as to her real views on the vital question at issue, but there came a prolonged, playful knocking at the door, which seemed to be the signal, fully understood by those in the room, because there was a gloomy pause before Mrs. Upjohn added, Here is Lall now. Lily groaned incoherently, and Mrs. Uphjohn drew a long face, but the knocking was repeated, and Mrs. Uphjohn was compelled to cry, Come in! It certainly was roper, spick and span in a city attire, and evidently in a most jovial mood.

Hello, hello, hello, he cried. Any more bids for the handsome guilt cundalabra with a crystal drops? He saluted Mrs. Upjohn and Miss Birch with affable nods, but bent solicitously over his special protege. Well, Lil, well, my pet, how are you? Not up to much today, I fancy. For his twinkling eyes had quickly noted her woebegone aspect. No great shakes, said Ma gloomily. Dancing too hard, I expect. Oh, a deal too hard. There was a slight pause, then Roburn inquired. Anything else amiss, ma? Mrs. Upjohn deemed the effort too great to be made. She signaled emphatically to Jimmy Birch.

You tell, Lowe, she cried, I can't. Tell him what? The Starkbroker had suddenly dropped his animated air and was apprehensive of some evil, the nature of which he could not even guess. Well, the old Pandora isn't going to score this time, said Miss Birch gravely. Isn't going to score?

I don't follow you. Be plain, Jimmy, urged Mrs. Upjohn. The girl giggled and tried. tried vainly to relieve the situation. She cried. Nature's taken precious good care of that, in my case. Roper turned on her angrily and strutted up and down the room. Now look here, Jerm, he declared.

A jest is a capital thing in its way. No man has a keener sense of humor than Lall Roper. There are occasions when it's out of place, and this is one of them, my dear, and if it's not putting you to serious inconvenience. Finding that her quip had missed fire, Miss Birch also lost her temper. "'Oh, well, then. Have it in the neck,' she said vehemently. "'Lilly has declined young Farncombe, and when you crack a joke next, Mr. Roper, "'I'll beg you contrive to favor us with a little variety,

"'because you bore me stiff with your rotten wheezes, and you always have done.' "'Roper was simply aghast of the tidings. "'He extended his hands appealingly to Mrs. Upjohn, "'who harped instantly upon the phrase which she resented. "'Won't draw him into her neck, Uncle,' she snapped. "'Won't draw him into her neck, her net broke in to me derisively k n e double t net you know the sort hello hello hello fresh fish from the sea buy em on the beach buy em on the beach all alive and wriggling then she mimicked the fussy little stockbroker's manner and voice so admirably that he turned his back on her in a state of ponderous indignation of course he said affecting to disregard the girl's driving of course there is this to be said ma it may be wise of dear lil to decline foreign combe at first it it doesn't do for a girl does it to appear to throw herself at any man let alone a young man of the position the social status roper was picking his words with care and mopping his dome forehead industriously when lil sat up suddenly resolved to put an end once more and for all to an intolerable situation oh for mercy's sake she protested cease discussing my affairs and my

presence you mother why do you keep uncle lull in the dark jimmy why don't you speak plainly in the dark bleated roper yes lal said mrs upjohn with a great assumption of dignity you flying out at jimmy over our onless joke stopped her finishing lil as only refused young fauncombe but she has gone and pledged herself to another individual yes to one of the best cried lily passionately. Do I know him? exclaimed the stupefied rober, whereat Miss Birch had the bad taste to laugh scornfully. "'Know him,' repeated Lily, her eyes sparkling and her face flushing at the memory of what she had gone through during the early hours of that day. You know him sufficiently to have plotted and schemed to prevent him being asked to the party last night. "'Did thou do that?' broke in Miss Birch with mock horror. the impudence of him. Roper had suddenly become subdued.

He sat down quietly and shot out one word. Jays. Yes, Nicco, said Lily firmly. Mrs. Upjohn, of course, could not permit herself to be left out in that crisis. But the captain was at the party last night, notwithstanding. She broke in. Nonsense, ma, said Jimmy. It's quite true, said Lily, resignedly.

Niko did manage to get into the theater somehow or other. He saw everything that took place there, saw me dancing far too often with Lord Francombe, and finally stationed himself under the portico at 27 in order to find out who brought me home. The full shock of events was beginning to make itself felt on the visitors. Roper sat as one stunned, but Jimmy Burch's mouth framed itself into a horrified, Oh, he's always been frightfully jealous, the captain as, said Mrs. Upjohn. Oddly enough, at this juncture, a new element of discreet. chord was introduced. Miss Birch, world round, on the flabbergasted stockbroker.

So really, it's entirely owing to your interference that matters were brought to a head this morning, she said indignantly. Entirely, agreed Lily, whose eyes flashed complete accordance with her friends' outburst. Even Mrs. Upjohn joined in the attack. Yes, if Lal had been content to mind his own business, she began. And hadn't meddled, cried Jimmy, and muddled, added Ma. things might have gone on much the same as before said her ally and might have ended different cried mrs upjohn rejoicing in an object on which to vent her wrath anyhow i hope it'll be a lesson to him next time not to put his fingers into other people's pies oh you are sanguine said miss birch with withering intonation lily essayed feebly to stay the gathering storm but rober himself rose to the occasion and carried the war in

the enemy's territory. Ma, Miss Upjohn, Lily, he began. Hello, hello, hello, broke in Jimmy scornfully. Ah, stop that now, he said, raising a hand. Ma, Lily, he resumed impressively. For years, for more years than is agreeable to count, I've been a patron of the drama, particularly musical comedy, of which I've studied the development with special interest. Miss Birch, doubting his sincerity, propped her face saucily upon her hands, and rested her elbows upon the table. Yes, you've studied a lot of development in your day, she broke in, but he ignored her, and ostentatiously produced a pair of gloves. It's been a fad with me, he said slowly. I put it no higher than that, but I've devoted time to it, and I frankly admit it. I've had more than one series dispute with Mrs. Roper on the subject.

"'Y yesterday, by an odd occurrence, I received, "'and his left hand tapped solemnly on the breast pocket of his coat. "'I received a letter from my wife. "'It was full of complaints. "'She says I haven't been to Bexhill, "'nor set eyes on her and the kids for weeks and weeks, "'and to do Ellen Roper Justice. "'She's not the woman to grumble without cause.

"'He picked up the hat in cane, "'which he had deposited on a chair, "'and began polishing the hat carefully with his sleeve. "'Dash it all!' "'he said, reflective. home ties are home ties, taking one consideration with another, and after this occurrence, it's my intention for the future, my firm intention. But Roper's long speech and exceeding gravity had proved too much for the nerves of one of his listeners. Lily leaped from her couch,

ran to him, and clasped him round the neck. Oh, Uncle Lau, you're not going altogether, she almost sobbed. We're tired and crossed this morning, but you can't leave us all together. No, no, uncle, you really mustn't, you really mustn't, chimed in Ma. Forgive us, dear, sob the girl. Mother and Jimmy are a pair of cats. A horrified protest came from Jimmy, but the scene was suddenly brought to an end by the appearance of the starched Gladys, who entered with a card on the salver. Are you in, she said, addressing her mistress loftily. In, repeated Lily wrathfully. What are you talking about? But the parlor made only surveyed her with mingled disdain and pity.

Oh, you do look washed out, she said. Miss Peridale strode up to her angrily and snatched at the card. Never you mind whether I look washed out or not, she said. Who is it? And what do they want? She glanced the card, and at once her pale face became, if possible, paler, while she put her hand to her eyes as though to shut out some sight that distressed her exceedingly. The superior Gladys gave no heed to these signs of emotion. They're in the dining room.

she said primly. Oh, go, moaned lily. Wait outside, on the landing. Oh, all right, said Gladys, tilting her nose. But this won't get my silver-clean, will it? She flounced out, and her mistress hardly waited for the door to close, ere she walked to and fro distractedly. Why can't they leave me alone? she wailed.

What do they want with me now, both of them? Mrs. Upjohn ran to her anxiously. Oh, is it, Lil? she cried. It goes downstairs with Lord Fran Combe. Nico asks me to see him and the boy together. But I won't. I won't. Why should they torture me in this way?

End of Chapter 15. Recording by Susanna Mason. Chapter 16 of the Mind the Paint Girl. This is a Lieber Vox recording. All Liebervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit Libravox.org

recording by Jude Summers The Mind the Paint Girl by Louis Tracy Chapter 16 The Settlement A room in which but a moment ago black despair seemed to have found a permanent abode was now all

turmoil and excitement. Jimmy Birch's quick wits had pounced instantly on a plausible solution, if not an exact one. of this unexpected visit. You must see them, Lil, she gasped. Perhaps they've arrived at a friendly understanding and have come here to propose that you should choose between them.

What? Great Scott, began Roper. But Lily only stamped an emphatic foot and cried decisively. But I have chosen. It's settled. I can't go through it all again. I shall die. Undoubtedly you ought to see them, said Roper. catching wildly at the hope that Jimmy Birch had guessed right. "'It's a shame to persecute me so, a shame!' pleaded the girl tearfully.

"'Give him a minute, dearie. Hear what they have to say. It would be uncivil not to.' Thus, Ma, Roper, and Jimmy collectively. Before the tired girl could frame a protest, they were at her again. "'Acht de' de'ry, see him, my pet. Buck up, Lil.' She yielded helplessly, and strove to give instructions to Gladys and Maud, and there was such a flying about to bring stockings and shoes, and such a banging of cupboards and drawers to find a roll of bright blue ribbon to improvise a pair of garters, and such a to do while Lily glanced at herself in a mirror, and pronounced her hair impossible, until a deft touch or two restored it to the artistic knot,

which had been sadly disarrayed by her tumbling about among the cushions. Then there were hurried asides between the Confederates. She asked to choose between him. Bet my boots, that's it. What else can it be? Oh, if it is! Miss Birch was so carried away by the exuberance of her emotions that she flung herself ecstatically into roper's arms,

but released herself with a haughty wriggle when she discovered who it was that returned her embrace with such fervor. He carried off a difficult situation by affecting a nonchalance he was far from feeling. I, er, think I'll run downstairs and shake hands with G's and Farncombe, while Lily is titivating herself, he said loftily. Don't you, sneered Jimmy, who had to get square with him for that involuntary hug. I should advise you not to risk it.

Risk it, he snorted. If Niko knows you were the cause of his being shut out of the party last night, he'll simply throttle you. What? Throttle me, throttle lal roper? The little man made a formidable exit, but evidently put discretion before valor, since Niko G's did not see him after that day,

nor for many a day thereafter. Meanwhile, Mrs. Upjohn was striving earnestly to jam a left shoe onto Lily's right foot, and only desisted when the girl gave an agonized squeal. All right, dearie, mother's ear. Now calm yourself. Remember, I'm here all the time, babbled Ma. Ring for Gladys, said Lily, when she had completed a hasty toilet.

And Mrs. Upjohn hurried to the fireplace and pressed the bell push continuously. In her eagerness to help, she was blithely unaware that the bell was ringing furiously. Still keeping her thumb on the knob of ivory, she said plaintively, And now I don't believe I've rung, until her daughter, strung to the utmost tension, told her to to stop, since she was not summoning the fire brigade. Miss Birch, glancing round with the sweeping eye of a strategist, saw that the great moment had arrived. I'll wait in your room till the men have been shown up, she announced,

and sneak out that way. Now mind, Lily, if Nico is willing, after all, that you should make your choice, yes, dearie, put in Mrs. Upjohn, if he is willing, I tell you, I have made it, cried the group, frantically. I keep on telling you I've chosen. If you torment any more, either of you, they fled, and she was given a few seconds of peace, wherein to collect her bemused faculties, before the impeccable Gladys opened the door and ushered in the two men.

G's looked pale, but carried himself stiffly, and, like Farncombe, attired ceremoniously. Their quietly business-like air was not without, its effect on Lily. G's took the lead and shook hands with her. How are you today, Lil? Very fagged, he asked gently. I am a little, she replied almost inaudibly. Farncombe advanced with marked hesitancy and bowed, but without looking at him, she extended a limp hand and murmured a, how do you do? Turning away, she invited Gies to sit down. and, noting that the younger man remained standing,

she bade him to be seated, but resolutely avoided his eyes, which were, she knew, frankly fixed on her. G. seemed to be the only cool and really self-possessed person present. In the first place, Lil, he said, speaking with a slow distinctiveness, which savored of a speech, carefully prepared in advance.

Farncombe wants you to understand clearly, how it is he is committing this breach of his compact with you. He promised, what was it exactly? I promised never to attempt to come near Miss Paradel again, nor even to enter the theatre, said the other promptly. And if I'm any judge of a man, Lily, he would have kept his promise, said G's. Oh yes, he'd have kept it faithfully, but for me. I've brought him here today, insisting. on it. I've brought him. Do you see? He seemed to press for recognition of the fact, and the girl lifted her eyes for an instant. Oh, well, why? she stammered. I'll tell you, my dear, when we left you early this morning, you ordered us to walk away together

and to part good friends. Yes, I remember perfectly. Well, we did walk away together, and we did part good friends. But the parting did not take place until some hours later in his rooms. We didn't part till I'd made him stand by me and listen to me while I had a long jaw with my brother on the phone. With your brother? broke in Lily, wonderingly. Yes, about the Rhodesian business. That Rhodesian business? She repeated, though with a quick catch of her breath, which showed that she had a glimmering prescience of what was to come. I mentioned it to you yesterday, he said offhandly. Bob owns a third with Peter Chombers and Jim Dalby

of a group of farms near Bolaweo, and he's been badgering me eternally to cut this rotten life in London and settle out there as their agent. He leaned forward slightly, spread his hands, and, with the simplest air imaginable, and I've accepted old girl. "'A accept it?' she said, and her voice broke on the word. He affected to treat the affair

with humour, "'Leaving you to bring an action against me to recover damages for a broken heart.' Then he smiled grimly and drew a deep breath. "'Yes, I'm chucking you, Lil. I give you formal notice of my intentions, and you can drive down to your solicitors this afternoon and instruct them to issue a writ without delay. Ha, ha, ha. Nico, murmured the girl faintly. Unless, he went on emphatically, unless you've an idea of consoling yourself shortly with another chap,

and prefer not to carry the matter into court. She made as though she would rise, but he restrained her by a gesture. Ha, no, not a word, he cried, almost sternly. Ah, Lil, Lil, I know your friend. full of generous, honest impulses, though I did tear you to rags in Farncombe's hearing a few hours ago,

but I'm not going to allow you to sacrifice yourself to them. I've come to my senses, and I'm not going to permit it. He bent forward eagerly, pleadingly. Oh, my dear, why should I make you pay for the weakness of my character? Because that's what it would amount to. I've bullied you for having played skittles with my life. my career. So you have. Damn it, so you have. But you've done it out of blind thoughtlessness.

And if I'd been a fairly strong man with some ballast in me, you couldn't have landed me where I am. Not you, nor fifty Pandora girls. Then he sat erect, with that air of soldierly abruptness, which she knew so well. And that, that's the moral of the tale, he sighed. swinging round abruptly on Farncombe, he took the bewildered Viscount unawares. There's nothing more, is there Farncombe, he inquired, as though he had conducted some quite ordinary matter to its legitimate clothes. The young man was leaning forward, his hands clasped in front of his knees, and his head bowed. When the words came, they were broken and humble.

Except that I'd like to repeat what I'd like to repeat what I'd I've already said to you, geez, he faltered. I, I, oh, you make me feel terribly small. Lily sprang upright and went to G's. She did not know what she meant to say or do, but his mind was fully made up, and he took her in his arms as though he were an elder brother, consoling a fretful and disconsolate sister. Oh, Nico, I can't, I can't, she sobbed, chokingly.

He patted her shoulder with a reassuring hand, but said nothing. He wanted her to speak now, to get the wrench over and done with. If you do this thing, Nico, she said, What, what would become of my resolutions? Your resolutions? he said amusedly. To, to raise you up, Nico. You are raising me up, little girl, setting me square on my feet again. and and drawing Eddie into my net, she murmured in a frightened way.

He patted her shoulder again with a big brotherly air. Oh, we've talked of that too, he and I, he replied promptly. Farncombe gave me an account of what passed between you here. My dear Lil, your conscience may be quite clear. Nobody can ever reproach you with trying to draw him into your net. Oh, but they would. They would, she sobbed. He held her at arm's length and shook her fondly.

At all events, he said, with a sort of sad pride in his face. The task you have to face now is to prove to the world, his world, that Miss Paradel is equal to playing lead on a bigger stage than the stage of the Pandora. And you'll do it. Oh, yes, you'll do it. His voice died away miserably, and he released. her. Then, bracing himself firmly for the last word, he looked at his watch. Well, he said with a fine pretense of cheerfulness,

I've got to lunch with Bob at half-past one, at the junior Carlton. Ah, it's not nearly that, Nico. You mustn't go. I... She hurried past him, moving towards the door as if to bar his passage. A strip of bright blue ribbon fluttered to the carpet from beneath her dressing-gown. for an instant she did not see it, and his eyes were the first to fall on it. He stooped and picked it up, folded it carefully, and put it in his pocket. In her sudden agitation, she stooped and hitched up her loosened stocking through her robe, and affected to laugh at the incident.

G's two laughed, and they faced each other a few seconds, each unable to speak, each dumbly conscious that the tiny scrap of silk was all that was left, to the man of his long-drawn-out dream. But Lily could not maintain the pretense. She broke down utterly, burst into tears, and wailed. Oh, Nico, Nico, is this the end? In that trying moment he was stronger than she. Tapping her shoulder lightly again, he said pleasantly,

Not by any manner of means, my dear. It isn't goodbye. Far from it. We'll kill the fatted d'clock. calf several times before I start, you and I and the boy. Besides, by and by, you and he must take a trip and come out to see me. Serring of Vale is the farm where I shall be quartered, so Bob tells me. His glance wandered dreamily through the windows, across the familiar outlines of the square. German Street to Serring of Vale, my dear. Pugh! There are no great distances in these days.

look at Lily again, but turned round on Farncombe. You dine with me tonight, recollect. It's an engagement. Eight o'clock at Catanis. And afterwards, you fetch her from the theatre and take her home. That's your job now. Heedless of the girl's bitter grief, he strode out manfully and closed the door.

She sank into a chair. We'll be gone and distressed. And Farncombe approached slowly and stood before her. "'Lilly,' he said thoughtfully, "'I'm afraid there's one thing finer than winning the woman you love, "'and when you've won her, "'being prepared to go through fire and water for her.' "'And what's that?' she murmured,

"'having the courage to give her up as G's has done. "'His words brought on a renewed outburst. "'Oh, Nico, Nico!' she breathed. "'The man who might now fairly regard himself, as her accepted husband, was almost as deeply stirred as she. He sat beside her and took her hand consolingly. By George, he's a brick, isn't he? He said. For a little while she did not answer, until, conquering her agitation, she was able to raise her eyes to his. Eddie, she said, if we ever marry, well then, when we marry, for she had seen his sudden

distress at the implied doubt. You'll never taunt me about my origin, will you? You'll never say, Lord Farncombe might not have had extensive experience in lovemaking, but he certainly knew enough of its ways and means to stop that outburst. Nevertheless, when she regained her breath, her words showed that a vague fear was still troubling her. And then there's poor mother, she said. you won't be very proud of her, will you? Your mother, he cried boyishly, preparing to make light of all difficulties. Oh, she's an awfully good sort.

But she hasn't an H to her name, she reminded him. Well, he said inadvertently, she oughtn't to have. Lily bounced up quickly and walked away. Do you mean she calls herself Hopjohn? she cried. No, no, no, he protested. horrified by the notion that he might have hurt her feelings. At any rate,

H's don't lead you to heaven, do they? Even in her present flustered state, Lily felt that this topic had better be avoided. Moreover, there was a sharp incongruity about any tender passages between them at that trying moment, which appealed to her sense of the ludicrous. Well, you'd better go now, she said, cutting the Gordian knot suddenly.

And tonight, he was. he questioned, with a timid smile. No, I'll come home alone. Lily, he urged, please, not for two or three days. You must give me time to shake down over this. On Saturday? No, she cried fretfully.

Being a persistent young man, he waved the point by raising another. If it is fine on Sunday, we might run out somewhere in the car for luncheon. Lily smiled sorrowfully. at him. I'll I'll write, she said, and he left it at that.

He took her hand, but she kept him at a distance. He attempted to come nearer, yet again she checked him, for his intent was clear, and she shook her head quietly. Not just yet, Eddie, she said. Whereupon he smiled at her

again, and bowed himself out. She went to the door and watched him descend the stairs, wafting him and affectionate adieu as he turned on the landing. Then she wandered back listlessly into the room. Her face was very thoughtful, and during nearly a minute she seemed to be peering anxiously, almost fearfully, into the future. At last she went to the door of her bedroom and opened it a little way and called, Mother! Mother! Mrs. Upjohn bustled in, all aglow with excitement. Yes, Lil, she cried.

Yes, dearie, yes. Have they given you your choice? No, said the girl. They've given me no choice. What? And up went the maternal hands in dismay. Nico's going out to South Africa, Mother. South Africa? Well, to Rhodesia. It was all one to Mrs. Upjohn, who fastened on the dominating fact that either locality was a long way removed from Bloomsbury. Then you're free, Lil, she cried exultantly.

No, I'm not. Nicos handed me over. Ended you over? Ma was in a state of excitement, which did not permit her brain to work efficiently. She could only gasp out repetitions of her daughter's words. Yes, to Lord Farncombe. Then, indeed, Mrs. Upjohn nearly gave up the ghost.

She dropped gasping into a chair. And you and the young gentleman? That was all she managed to say, but Lily reassured her with a quiet, I suppose so. Oh, the dear cap'n, murmured Ma, who never, by any chance, could display tact in a delicate situation like this.

The girl promptly began to cry again and dropped into her mother's lap, putting her arms around the astounded old lady's neck and murmuring bitterly, Oh, poor Nico, what will become of him? He'll have his reward, Lil, Mrs. Uppchon soothed her. He'll have his reward year after. Had she but known it, her daughter was on the very verge of hysteria.

All manner of mad notions were whirling in her brain, and her thoughts suddenly reverted to the life she was leaving behind her. And poor Carlton Smythe, she cried. Oh, poor Carlton! "'Why, what's he done?' demanded her mystified parent. "'He's losing every one of his best girls' mother, "'Gwenny Harker, Madie Treval, "'Eva Shafto, and now me.

"'Oh, poor Carlton!' "'Ush, dearie, Ush,' said Ma, "'in a most matter-of-fact tone, "'and rocking her wayward daughter, "'to and fro like a baby. "'Don't consider him. "'Think, just think, "'what a lot of good you're all doing

"'to the aristocracy.' On a day not so long ago, but fully three years after G's had bade farewell to London, he rode across the high veld at sunset towards the cleft in the Metapo Hills, in which Serenga Vale Farm was situated. Already he could see the corrugated roofs of the long, low range of buildings, which constituted that thriving homestead. In the mellow light, they looked almost picturesque, because they were neat and trim,

and not wholly devoid of color, while an English lawn and flower garden were shaded by giant teak and mahogany trees, and flanked by clumps of fig trees and mimosa. In the vast enclosures on either hand, herds of cattle were grazing, two-year-old and three-year-old bullocks and heifers, brought together for the half-yearly sale

from the still more extensive and well-stocked tracks where the best grass and water were available. G's surveyed them with a professional eye. The beasts were of the right size, color, and weight. They would run to good figures in the mart. In a word, serring of veil was prosperous, and the manager's commission on the net profits would amount to a considerable sum at the end of the year. He himself looked younger and healthier. He was lean and sinewy and brown, and those who knew him would surely have refused to believe if any stranger happened to remark that Niko G's had wasn't.

been described as a loafer and a waster. Yet, while his trustworthy pony was jogging along steadily to stable and food, the rider's reflections wandered from the present to the past. A letter had reached him that morning before he rode off to a distant corral to investigate a dispute between kaffirs, and its contents were well calculated to send his thoughts wandering back through the years and across half the world. Lord and Lady Farncombe were in South Africa. They and their friends, Miss Eva Carmichael, a cousin of Farncombe's, Sir Rupert Spencer, and Mr. George Owlis had reached Cape Town and were traveling upcountry, preparatory to a shooting trek from Bulawayo into northeast Becuana Land.

He had read something, but heard a great deal more, of Lily Paradale's rapid conquest of her new set. Farncombe's family had at first been indignant, but the birth of a grandson put an end to these alarms and excursions, and young Lady Farncombe was now welcomed in the most exclusive circles. Ah well, with her youth and beauty and genius, she was well equipped for conquest. As for himself, he would soon be a middle-aged old fogey, for a man is so constituted that he thinks that way at 37, yet regards himself as quite a boy when he is ten years older. But who were these people gathered of the spacious stoop, and how came there to be such a collection of cape carts in the home yard? Life on the veld strengthens the sight, and G's was

still a good half mile away when he saw a white handkerchief fluttering from a woman's hand, and the next instant his pony knew that the day's work must end hurriedly. Lily herself was the first to greet him as he flung his lean body from the saddle. Lady Farncombe, he cried breathlessly, and thanking his stars that the fast gallop might seem to account for his agitated air. Oh, she cried, her eyes sparkling with joy at the success of this long-planned surprise. Is that the way you greet me, Nico? Well then, Lily, but why didn't you?

He held out a hand which she disregarded promptly and kissed. him very heartily. You might at least tell me you're glad to see me, she said, holding him at arm's length and surveying him with critical approval. No need to tell you that. He too had eyes for no one but her at the moment. You're thinner. You have been ill, he said.

Just a bit run down. That's one explanation why they sent me a long sea voyage. But the real one is that Eddie and I meant to come as soon as the kitty could be left safely. I wanted to bring him. He's such a darling, Nico. Only his granddad wouldn't hear of it, nor Lady Godalming either, for that matter.

And now Farncombe was gripping his hand, and introductions followed. There was so much news to give and receive, and questions to ask and to answer as to the well-being of Ma, who insisted on living quietly in a cozy flat on the Battersea side. of Lionel Hesketh Roper, who had retired to Bexhill,

of Jimmy Birch, now leading lady at the Pandora, of Nico's experiences in Rhodesia, and of the shooting parties determined rush through the Cape Colony and the Transvaal to the pure air of the High Veld, that G's awoke almost with a start to the fact that he was presiding over a well-arranged and crowded dinner table, and that Lily Paradale, the real good-hearted, impulsive Lily, was sitting on his right hand and Farncombe on his left.

Once, when he caught a pleasant laugh from Eva Carmichael, at some story Norris, his assistant manager, was telling about the disingenuous kaffir. He turned to Lily and said, Your cousin seems to be a jolly sort of girl. Yes, Nico, isn't she sweet? Well, I'll take your word. Oh, but you'll like her more and more every day. You've got to, because you'll be in her company constantly during the next three months, to put it mildly. Geez, though an excellent host, might certainly be forgiven the expression of bewilderment which flickered in his face, whereby Lily was much diverted. Did you think that this gang meant to quarter itself all that time at Serring of Vale, she cried?

No, Nico, you're coming with us. Eddie arranged everything with your partners, and you haven't a word to say. They are sure you need a change, and that a long trek into the interior will do you good, and that the business can go along quite smoothly here in your absence. So that is settled, and all you have to do is to find the salted beef, I mean the salted cattle, because Mr. Owlis has brought everything else, either from London or Bulaueo. late that night when G's, as was his habit,

went out to give a final look round before retiring to rest. He met Norris, crossing a strip of lawn towards his own small bungalow, and the youngster was actually whistling, mind the paint. I say, Jim, just stop it, will you? cried Gise in an annoyed tone. Why, what's the matter, Governor? asked his surprised aid. What the deuce do you want to whistle that air for? Why shouldn't I? I heard a girl sing it at a cafe Chantant at Salisbury last time I was there.

It's a harmless sort of song. Do you mean that I might disturb the ladies? Uh, yes, of course, you young idiot. I'm sorry, but I really didn't think they could hear me at this distance. Oh, well, perhaps you're right. My mind was wandering. Good night. Good night, sir.

The boy didn't know. Beyond any manner of doubt, he did. didn't know. The song had outlived the singer. Mind the Paint was still in vogue, but the Mind the Paint Girl, forgotten in the more striking personality of Lady Farncombe. End of Chapter 16. End of the Mind the Paint Girl by Lewis Tracy.