"She sees you, and it's a case of love at first sight on her part,"
explained Baird. "And you love her, too, only you're a bashful country
boy and can't show it the way she can. Try out a little first scene
now."

Merton stood, his basket on his arm, as the girl approached him. "Look
down," called Baird, and Merton lowered his gaze under the ardent regard
of the social butterfly. She tossed away her cigarette and came nearer.
Then she mischievously pinched his cheek as the New York men had pinched
his little sister's. Having done this, she placed her hand beneath his
chin and raised his face to hers.

"Now look up at her," called Baird. "But she frightens you. Remember
your country raising. You never saw a society girl before. That's
it--look frightened while she's admiring you in that bold way. Now turn
a little and look down again. Pinch his cheek once more, Lulu. Now,
Merton, look up and smile, but kind of scared--you're still afraid of
her--and offer her a bottle of Ma's preserves. Step back a little as you
do it, because you're kind of afraid of what she might do next. That's
fine. Good work, both of you."

He was glad for the girl's sake that Baird had approved the work of
both. He had been afraid she was overdoing the New York society manner
in the boldness of her advances to him, but of course Baird would know.

His conscience hurt him a little when the Montague girl added her praise
to Baird's for his own work. "Kid, you certainly stepped neat and looked
nice in that love scene," she warmly told him. He would have liked to
praise her own work, but could not bring himself to. Perhaps she would
grow more shrinking and modest as the drama progressed.

A part of the play now developed as he had foreseen it would, in that
the city men at the hotel pursued the little sister to her own door-step
with attentions that she should have found unwelcome. But even now she
behaved in a way he could not approve. She seemed determined to meet
the city men halfway. "I'm to be the sunlight arc of this hovel," she
announced when the city men came, one at a time, to shower gifts upon
the little wild rose.

Later it became apparent that she must in the end pay dearly for her
too-ready acceptance of these favours. One after another the four city
men, whose very appearance would have been sufficient warning to most
girls, endeavoured to lure her up to the great city where they promised
to make a lady of her. It was a situation