to:

MISS PATRICIA ADAIR,

Adairville, Kentucky.

The contents were:

_My dear Madam:_

I have carefully read your play entitled "The Renunciation of
Rosalind," and have decided to make you the following offer for the
production rights. I will give you two hundred and fifty dollars
for all rights of production, including moving picture rights and
supplementary road companies to extend over a period of two years
from the date of signing the contract, and will agree to pay you in
addition five per cent. of all box receipts up to five thousand per
week and seven and a half on all exceeding that sum. If you agree
to this proposition, I will send you a formal contract covering all
points in legal terms. Please let me know at your earliest
convenience your decision about the matter, as I now intend to
produce it in September with Violet Hawtry in the title role.

Believe me, my dear Madam,

Very truly,

GODFREY VANDEFORD.

The above epistle from a strange outer world found Miss Patricia Adair,
attired in a faded gingham frock, planting snap beans in her ancestral
garden. It was delivered to her by her brother, Mr. Roger Adair, from
the hip pocket of his khaki trousers, upon which were large smudges of
the agricultural profession. His blue gingham shirt was open at the
throat across a strong bronze throat, and his eyes were as blue as his
shirt and laughed out across big brown freckles that matched his
chestnut hair.

"Here's a letter I brought over from the post-office, Pat, along with a
sack of meal and fifty cents' worth of sugar. Mr. Bates said Miss Elvira
Henderson stopped in and told him to send it to you by the first person
coming your way," he said as he threw the reins of the filly, whose
chestnut coat matched his hair exactly, over the gate post, and
proceeded to take from the pommel of the saddle the two bundles of
groceries mentioned. "Mr. Bates sent you this bunch of tomato plants and
head lettuce to set out along the back border of your rose beds, and
I'll spade it all up for you right now if--"

"Oh, Roger, listen, listen!" exclaimed Patricia, as she sprang to her
feet from her knees upon which she had rested as she read the letter he
had handed her. "My play, my play, it's sold