her
private affairs.

"She has written a clever and delightful book. The heroine, oddly enough
called Francesca, suggests you in places, except that she is a more
practical sort than you are. The hero, a musician, is a sort of
sublimated madman. The best character of all is an old fiddler. There is
a play in it. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced
of that.

"Would you care to help me on it? Both of our names could go on the
bill. I have come to know, these last months, since I have been working
at things here alone, how much the growth in my work is due to you. The
human touch you have given my characters, or helped me to give them, is
the essential element in my improvement. You started a good many wires
to jangling that spring day when you indulged your mad impulse to marry
an impossibility!

"Regards to the Professor.

"Yours,

"JARVIS."

Bambi went to the telegraph office and wired him:

"Congratulations. Of course I'll help! Come home.

"BAMBI."

He answered, by letter, that he thought it best to stay on until Mr.
Frohman and the author were both satisfied with the framework of the
play. Then he would come, most gladly, to work in the old study. He
would submit his ideas for a scenario the next day or so.

From that moment the fun began for Bambi. He wrote daily about the
outline, and weekly letters to the author were forwarded to her from the
Frohman office. These she answered, disguised as the author, with many a
chuckle of amusement. A sort of friendliness crept into these letters as
they increased in number.

Christmas week arrived with no definite assurance from Jarvis as to his
plans, but Bambi was confident that he would be at home for the holiday.
Professor Parkhurst demanded daily bulletins of his son-in-law's
intentions, while Ardelia bemoaned and bewailed lest he fail to return.

The day before Kris Kringle was due a white snow descended like a
benediction. Bambi and the Professor sat before a huge, crackling fire
in the library. She was restless as a spirit. She sat at the piano and
sang "O Lonely Pine Tree Standing," until the Professor objected.

"Sing something gay, my child."

"God rest ye, merry gentleman,
Let nothing ye dismay,
For Jesus Christ, the Saviour,
Was born on Christmas Day,"

she sang gladly.

All at once her hands fell silent on the keys, while