e the dress
rehearsal had been held. Furious almost to tears at her inability to
bring about the impossible, Mignon at last ordered her runabout and made
sulky preparations to start for the theatre. The possession of an
automobile gave her the advantage of being able to don her first act
costume at home, but her really attractive appearance in the fanciful
gown of the heartless step-sister afforded her no pleasure. She hooked
it up pettishly, made a face at herself in the mirror of her dressing
table, and, drawing her evening cloak about her, flounced downstairs to
her runabout, completely out of humor with the world in general.

She drove along recklessly, as was her custom, and when half way to the
theatre narrowly missed running down a small, sturdy figure that was
marching across the street.

"Naughty old wagon," screamed a familiar voice after her.

At sound of that piping voice, Mignon stopped her car and peered out.
Trotting along the sidewalk a little to her rear was a small boy with a
diminutive violin case tucked under his arm. Little Charlie Stevens had
come forth once more to see the world. In a flash wicked inspiration
came to Mignon. The Stevens child was running away again, but this time
he had chosen an evening exactly to her liking. Slipping out of her car
she ran toward the boy. "Why, good evening, little boy," she called
pleasantly. "Where are _you_ going?"

"I know you. You're a naughty girl!" observed Charlie with more truth
than courtesy. He braced himself defiantly and regarded Mignon with
patent disapproval.

"I am so sorry you think so." Mignon affected a sadness which she was
far from feeling at this unvarnished statement. "I was going to take you
for a ride and buy you some ice cream."

Charlie considered this astonishing offer in silence. He stared
frowningly at Mignon. "Is it chok'lit ice cream?" he asked, eyeing her
in open disbelief.

"Of course it is. As much as you can eat."

"All right. I want some. But you're a naughty girl, just the same. Mary
said so."

Mignon shrugged indifferently. She was not greatly concerned at either
his or Mary's opinion of her. "Come on, if you want a ride," she urged.

Charlie obeyed with some show of reluctance. He was not sure that even
the prospect of ice cream warranted his surrender. Mignon caught him up
and swung him into the runabout. Her wrist watch pointed to fifteen
minutes past seven. She had no time to lose. She drove rapidly through