ery mail. You see, here's a
nattering likeness of you in a New York daily, and here you are again,
in a Chicago paper!"

"Those aren't of ME," said Marian, smiling.

"It SAYS they are," Julie said. "One says you are petite and dark, and
the other that you are a blond Gibson type. You wouldn't have believed
that your wish could come true so quickly, would you, just the other
day?"

"My wish?" stammered the girl.

"Yes. Don't you remember saying that you wished you could do something
big?" pursued Julie. "You've done a thing that makes the rest of us
feel pretty small, you know. Why, while there was any question of your
getting better, there wasn't a dance given at any of the hotels between
here and Surf Point, and all sorts of people came here with inquiries
every day. This place was absolutely hushed. The maids used to fight
for the privilege of carrying your trays up. None of us thought of
anything but 'How is Miss Carter?' And you'll be 'The young lady who
saved those children from the fire' for the rest of your life wherever
you go!"

Miss Carter was watching her gravely.

"You say I got my wish," she said now, her blue eyes brimming with slow
tears, and her lips trembling. "But--but--you see how I AM, Miss Ives!
Dr. Arbuthnot says I MAY be able to walk in a month or two, but no
swimming or riding or dancing for years--perhaps never. And my
face--it'll always be scarred."

Julie laid a gentle hand on the little helpless fingers.

"But that's part of the process, you know, little girl," said the
actress after a little silence. "I pay one way, perhaps, and you pay
another, but we both pay. Don't you suppose," a smile broke through the
seriousness of her face, "don't you suppose I have my scars, too?"

Marian dried her eyes. "Scars?"

"When you are pointed out--as you WILL be, wherever you go--" said
Julie, "you'll think to yourself, 'Ah, yes, this is very lovely and
very flattering, but I'll never dance again--I'll never rush into the
waves again, I'll never spend a whole morning on the tennis court,'
won't you?"

The Dancing Girl nodded, her eyes filling again, her lips trembling.

"And when people stare after me and follow me," said Julie, "I think to
myself--'Oh, this is very flattering, very delightful--but the young
years are gone--the mother who missed me and longed for me is gone--the
little sisters are married, and deep in happy family cares--they don't
need me any more.' I have what I wanted, b