Pictures and the Picturegoer (Jan-Dec 1925)

76 Pictures and Pichuretyver JAN LAP 7 1925 MY TRIP ABROAD (Continued from page 22). For, once again, I had crossed a frontier. A frontier of a different kind, but a frontier just the same. A frontier of human emotion. A frontier of a suspended relationship. There is something about the ties of early childhood that pull at the strings of the heart as no later relationships have the power of doing. For it is not only the person, but the whole setting of old, familiar days that arises to con, front one. , I saw not only my dear sister, Maria, but all of our childish s*renes together, pranks and larks, quarrels and makingsup. ""There had once been four of us children in my father's house; but it was with Maria that I conspired and connived, got into and out of mischief, and generally conferred with on all of our little enterprises. In those few moments with Maria, we kept up a constant battery of " Do you remember this?" and " Oh, do you remember that?" Now and then the equally ready tears would come, because of a memory shared in madness. Since my mother passed away, Maria has gone through a lot of suffering She was left quite alone at my mother's death. My brother is married and living quite a distance from her and suoh relatives as we have in Italy are distant connections and not especially congenial with Maria. Of course, she asked me all kinds of questions about my work, and I told again the story of my arrival in America, the days of starvation and discouragement, the beginnings that seemed to get nowhere, the final landing upon my feet. She wanted to know all about how pictures are made, about the other stars, the directors, the studios. She wanted to hear all about Tune Mathis and the part she had played and played so definitely in my " discovery," and then told me that she had never seen a picture of mine, but had gained all her knowledge of my activities through the fan magazines and newspapers I had sent her, and from my letters. She intimated that she got most of her knowledge from the magazines and papers. Like most of my sex, I am, I suppose, neither a very frequent nor a very prolific letter writer. HPhe third day we were in Milan, I ■*■ arranged to have my sister see The Four Horsemen. I asked an official connected with the industry to have a copy of the film shown her, and through his courtesy it was run for her. But the projection room had no light, and the picture was so badly cut that my aunt, who was with us, said she was glad that she had seen it in Rome. But my sister, none too critical, of course, was enchanted. She had, she naively informed me, no idea that I was " as good as that !" I felt that after all the years I had struggled to win from her that look of admiration and respect, The Four Horsemen had finally done the trick for me, where my early smoking and other feats had dismally failed. . . We have had three days of Milan. And we have gone about and have seen as much as we could see. We didn't attempt to do a very great deal in the town. Milan would take the most casual tourist at least a month. The same as Florence and Rome. But we did see the surrounding country. Motoring, of course. Which is the only way to see a country. We have enjoyed Milan. Of course / enjoyed it because it held my sister for me. And Natacha got a fair amount of rest. I tinkered with the car and we took marvellous rides, and to-morrow we start on our way again. (Another long instalment ne.vt month.) Valentino in his car on the way to the studios DOROTHY VERNON OF HADDON HALL (Continued from page 38). Dorothy. " I have loved you, I do believe, since the first time I saw you — but hide ! Someone comes !" When the guard burst into the room four feet, and two of them a man's, were seen peeping out from under her dress. The guard dragged her away and Sif John sprang to his feet, flung back a window and escaped. " Well, he has gone," said the captain of the guard, " but she remains. Her Majesty will be informed of this, my lady. We will see what she has to say." And it transpired that Elizabeth had very little to say. But it resulted in Dorothy being cast into the cells. At moonrise there was a noise like rats at the grating of the dungeon of Haddon Hall. But it was not rats, but more like magic. For there stood Sir John Manners. " Come," he said, " there is no time to be lost. The guard have heard me and are coming by that other door. In an hour the Queen dies. Warn her." Dorothy made her way by strange secret passages into the bedroom of the Queen, who sat up startled. "Your Majesty!" cried Dorothy. "I come once more to crave your ear." "Silence, traitor!" said the Queen. There came a furtive scraping on the door, and Dorothy's face went white. '* They come now to do their evil work ! Oh, listen, I beg you, your Majesty, before it is too late. See! Hide behind this hanging here." She drew a hanging of the great bed across her Queen's form as the door was burst in and Sir Malcolm staggered in with drawn sword. "You!" he cried in astonishment. "Stand away from that curtain !" " But—" " Do as I command, for I am master here now. If — " The curtain fell back and the regal figure of the Queen was disclosed. "I thought so!" laughed Sir Malcolm. And suddenly he raised his sword. But at that moment there was a shivering of glass; the great stained window fell inward in a million pieces and into the room bounded Sir John Manners. There was the flash of steel against steel, a muffled groan, and the body of Sir Malcolm Yernon fell a-sprawl across the floor, empty of life. TTie Queen in affected anger granted Sir John Manners his life in return for the saving of hers but banished him there and then. And so it befell that as Sir John rode so sadly away from Haddon Hall that he did not even raise his eyes and bid a last farewell to a certain trysting place a peremptory voice bade him halt. " Her Majesty hath not commanded my comings and goings," quoth Dorothy. " Think you that steed of yours, John, will carry two?"