hey want--back there?" with a tilt of her head behind her.

"Exactly," he answered. "That's our plant. We are the Knickerbocker Film
Manufacturing Company."

"Oh," said Katrina, again. "And the fancy-dress people?"

"We are getting up 'Romeo and Juliet,'" said the young man. "Please
don't laugh. It's been proven that the moving picture audiences like
Shakespeare canned."

"Moving picture audiences," repeated Katrina in surprise, and then as
the light broke, she stopped short and looked at the young man.

"Why, didn't you guess?" he queried. "The summer-house--why, of course,
the summer-house must have hidden the camera." He looked at her
dejectedly. "I've wanted you so much to know all about it," he said,
"and now that you do, it sounds--oh, drivelling."

"But it doesn't," cried Katrina, eyes shining. "It sounds splendid. It
sounds thrilling. I'm sure it will be a success. You're bound to make it
one. I congratulate you. You've left out a good deal. You've told your
story very badly, but I'm good at filling in. The fact is, I'm proud to
know you, and you may shake hands with me if you wish to."

"Oh, Katrina," murmured the young man, and they clasped hands. It was
just here that Grandfather McBride turned into the lane from the back
garden and came upon them. When they became aware of him, leaning
heavily upon his stick and frowning at them through the dusk, Katrina
braced herself to meet whatever might come. But, suddenly, to her
intense surprise, Mr. McBride beamed upon them radiantly.

"Well, well, Katriny," he said, in high good humor, "so you've been over
that gate again, eh? Been lookin' over that wall, eh? I knew you would,
my dear, I knew you would. There's some of the McBride spirit in you
after all, thank God. I meant to take you myself, but you got ahead of
me." Here he shook hands with the young man. "Glad to see you again, my
boy," said Grandfather McBride. "Brought my little girl home, eh?"

"Well, we were on the way," admitted the young man with enthusiasm. "I
see you got the steps up, sir."

"Yes," said Mr. McBride, "oh, yes. I'm much obliged to you for the
permission. It's as good as any vaudeville, and it's a sight nearer
home. You're bound to make money. I tell my granddaughter," with a
triumphant nod to the lady in question, "to bank on brains and energy
and American push. I tell her," with a profound wink to Katrina, "to let
this old family nonsense and society racket go hang. I'm glad she