d be to the ardor of the beloved of many women.

"He's a great producer; had three big hits hand-running and fell down on
'Miss Cut-up' because he wouldn't stand up to Hawtry, and let her cop
the whole show," answered Mr. Height with great generosity, for in
reality Mr. Height had the very poor opinion of Mr. Vandeford that it is
the custom of all actors to hold in regard to their respective managers.
However, he was sugar-coating the pill he was determined to administer
to Miss Adair without delay. "He ought to marry Hawtry and get a bit in
her mouth and the spurs on."

"Is--is he in love with Miss Hawtry?" asked the author of "The Purple
Slipper" with great interest, and the home-made color rose several
degrees, that were not warranted by the calm gossip of the situation.

"That's the noise he makes, but who can tell?" answered Mr. Height,
reveling in the Adairville roses and no more aware of their origin than
was their owner. "He meets bills, but nobody gets in behind his
window-boxes." And Mr. Height raised his glass of Tom Collins, perfectly
contented with the thought that he had enlightened Miss Adair about the
private life of Mr. Vandeford. As a matter of fact he had failed utterly
to do so, as she had not understood a word of his Broadway patois.
"There's the great B. D. and beloved son-in-law," and Mr. Height nodded
and smiled at a white-haired man and his companion who were seating
themselves at the table next to them.

"B. D.?" questioned Miss Adair.

"Benjamin David," answered Mr. Height. "He and his son-in-law are
putting on a great new show. Offered me a lead and--but I think I'll
stick by 'The Purple Slipper.'" His eyes were so ardent as slightly to
disturb Miss Adair and very greatly disturb Mr. Vandeford, who caught
the warmth across several tables, and ground his teeth.

However, Miss Patricia Adair was fully capable of handling such a
situation, for ardor is ardor, whether encountered on Broadway in New
York or Adairville in Kentucky, and Miss Adair had met it many
times--and parried it.

"I've really got to leave this perfectly lovely place and hurry down to
the Y. W. C. A., to get some costume samples for Mr. Corbett," she said
calmly, as she began to draw on her gloves and pull down the veil that
reefed in the narrow brim of the jaunty hat Miss Lindsey and she had by
a great stroke of luck discovered on a side street the day before.

"Y. W. C. A.?" questioned Mr. Height, in stupefaction.