Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1911)

10G THE MOTION PICTURE STORY MAGAZINE Count was even now on the way. How could she marry him if Ralph refused to release her? He was determined to have their wedding occur during the holiday vacation when the University boys could be present, but now she must destroy those plans. "I don't want those flowers !" she cried, petulantly. "He had no business to send them/' The little French maid gazed at her in amazement. "Take them away, Marie. I tell you I don't want them." "But Miss ," began Marie, timidly. Clara rose hastily. The picture of the beetle-browed, black bearded Count fell to the floor. Quickly Marie stooped to recover it, and as she did so her face paled and she suppressed an exclamation of surprise. Clara did not notice Marie's keen scrutiny as she respectfully handed back the picture. Instead, the glint of her own engagement ring caught her eyes, and brought back the memory of the evening Ralph had placed the ring on her finger. She must not encourage sentiment, however, and she reassured herself by recalling that the engagement was one of her father's choosing, anyway. He was always sounding Ralph's praises. "I don't care what father says," she reflected, after the maid had left the room, "I'll not marry him. Oh, Count " holding the picture of the Count at arm's length and gazing at it rapturously. "To think that I am really to be a Countess and have all the girls simply furious with jealousy !" As she paced the floor she gazed with delight at her reflection in the mirror and reflected upon the charms of a diamond tiara. "I can just see the society columns of the morning papers," she thought. "Another American Countess — Miss Blakeman now the bride of the Count de Barbes — wearing the family jewels of the house of Barbadoes, or something like that — at home in the Chateau Hobeau, or some other highsounding name. Oh, I can't think of it another minute. It's too good to be true. I must read Marguerite's letter again — why, where is that letter? I had it in my hand a minute ago. What did I do with it?" Clara's room, always a scene of confusion, was a difficult one to search. It had a record for mysterious disappearances. Marie knew from experience the difficult problem of searching for any small article amid that miscellaneous collection of toilet accessories, breakfast trays, cushions, letters, flowers, furbelows and candy boxes. She knew, too, that the missing article always appeared eventually in the most unlikely place. She did not appear surprised, therefore, when she came, in response to Clara's impatient ring, and was asked if she had noticed what was done with a monogramed letter written on pale blue paper. But Marie had not seen the letter, she said. She looked quite frank when she said so. She was very sure she had not seen any letter. Miss Clara would remember that she had recovered the picture when it had fallen, but there had not been any letter, and of that she was positive. And yet, the letter was missing. "Oh, life is only a merry-go-round, a merry-go-round, a merry-goround — ' — " hummed Ralph Dexmore, as he stood before his dressing-table and carefully arrayed himself to appear with other members of the Alumni at the University Gke Club concert that evening. "Strange that Clara didn't 'phone when she got those flowers. I put the note inside in plain sight. Told her I'd be there at 8 o'clock, sharp. It'll be a jolly shame if she's not ready. If I have to wait as long as I did the last time I'll appeal to the old man. The old fellow's all right. Says he'll take me into partnership after we're married— . What's the matter out there ?" he shouted, as sounds of voices floated in from the hall. "A messenger, sir," replied the respectful little Japanese who ministered to the wants of Mr. Dexmore. "He will not surrender the package but to yourself."