he is--by the kitchen door. Of course you see him! Good, Kind
ogre, you don't eat little girls on their birthdays do you?"

"Aren't his red eyes beautiful and hasn't he a classy set of teeth?"
rejoined Mark Heath. "Be good, Fido, and you shall have a plumber for
breakfast."

"But he'll spare me! He says I'm too beautiful to eat!" Eleanor was
dancing back. "Oh Kate, I've seen an ogre!"

Kate did not answer. She fell in with Mark Heath, and as they drew
ahead she murmured:

"I wonder what's got into her?"

"Nothing I guess. I should rather say she'd got out. I think it's
bully."

"Oh, yes," said Kate, drawing out the last word.

They turned into the Quarter at Washington Street, and at once they
were in the midst of the festival. From a doorway burst a group of
little, immobile-featured Cantonese women, all in soft greens, deep
blues, reds and golds that glimmered in the gas-lights. Banded combs
in jade and gold held their smooth, glossy black hair; their slender
hands, peeping from their sleeves, shone with rings. The foremost
among them, a doll-girl of sixteen or so, tottered and swayed on the
lily feet of a lady. The rest walked upon clattering pattens, like a
French heel set by the cobbler's mistake at the instep.

Mark Heath, the young reporter, proud in his knowledge of "the
inside," took up the reins of conversation.

"A fairy story for you right at the start, birthday lady! That
little-foot girl is the daughter of Hom Kip. You remember the story,
don't you? The old plug tried to sell this daughter of his for wife to
a merchant in Portland. She had her own ideas--she eloped with the
second tragedian from the theatre over there. Hom Kip put detectives
on them, and caught her at Fresno. But she'd already married her actor
American fashion; and the Portland bridegroom is waiting until father
makes his little blossom a widow."

"As temporary Empress of Chinatown, I order that he shall do nothing
of the kind," said Eleanor.

"As your grand vizier, I shall put the machinery in motion that will
free the beautiful young bride," rejoined Mark Heath.

Kate broke in.

"What became of the actor? I'm one of those dull persons who always
wants the rest of the story!"

"I told you, didn't I, that father is going to make her a widow? At
least he was until the Empress ordered otherwise. The actor has
probably abandoned his art, which gives him undesirable publicity. And
some day, if father dares disobey the Empre