feather fan which she waved gracefully back and forth. Minnie thought the jewels were real.
"My God, Eleanor," she exclaimed, "you're the swellest lookin' thing I ever seen."
"Miss Grant looks very charming this morning," said Al, pointedly. "She looks very charming. But for that matter she always does."
"Thank you very much," answered Eleanor. "My dress is nice, though it's just a simple little thing."
"Well, folks, I'll breeze along now. I've got to stop at the wardrobe for one of those accordion pleated opera hats."
Minnie's eyes were staring with wonder at Eleanor. . . . Her own dress! When they walked downstairs where all the others were what a contrast she would be to Eleanor. How people would laugh at her! Frightened by this thought she tried to stop Al, but he was already hurrying in the other direction.
"Al's a skunk," said Eleanor quietly, who had seen at once that he was ashamed of Minnie. "Come on, dearie, don't let it worry you, there's better fish in the sea."
They hurried through the long alleyway until they reached the door on which was the sign: Stage. Keep off unless working on the sets.
"We must find Letcher the first thing," Eleanor explained. "He'll have to check us in."
Minnie followed the gorgeous figure through a maze of half-completed bedrooms, drawing rooms, kitchens, sweat-shops, to most of which only three walls stood, and very often but two.
The confusion was terrific. The studio reverberated with the pounding of many hammers, the scurry of footsteps,
