and
that all the meadow larks were singing, and that she had just had a
gallop on Pard that made her forget that she ever looked trouble in the
face.

Then Jean in the loge looked and saw screen--Jean's mother kneeling
before Bob's chair and sobbing so that her shoulders shook. She looked
and saw screen Jean stop whistling and swinging her quirt; saw her
stand still in the path and listen; saw the smile fade out of her eyes.
Jean in the loge thought suddenly of that moment when she had looked at
dad coming in where she waited, and swallowed a lump in her throat. A
woman near her gave a little stifled sob of sympathy when screen-Jean
turned and went softly around the corner of the house with all the
light gone from her face and all the spring gone out of her walk.

Jean in the loge gave a sigh of relaxed tension and looked around her.
The seats were nearly all full, and every one was gazing fixedly
forward, lost in the pictured story of Jean on the screen. So that was
what all those made-to-order smiles and frowns meant! Jean had done
them at Burns' command, because she had seen that the others simulated
different emotions whenever he told them to. She knew, furthermore,
that she had done them remarkably well; so well that people responded
to every emotion she presented to them. She was surprised at the
vividness of every one of those cut-and-dried scenes. They imposed
upon her, even, after all the work and fussing she had gone through to
get them to Burns' liking. And there, in the cool gloom of the
Victoria, Jean for the first time realized to the full the true ability
of Robert Grant Burns. For the first time she really appreciated him
and respected him, and was grateful to him for what he had taught her
to do.

Her mood changed abruptly when the Jean picture ended. The music
changed to the strain that had filled the great place when she entered,
nearly an hour before. Jean sat up straight again and waited, alert,
impatient, anxious to miss no smallest part of that picture which had
startled her so when she had first looked at the screen. If the thing
was true which she half believed--if it were true! So she stared with
narrowed lids, intent, watchful, her whole mind concentrated upon what
she should presently see.

"Warring Mexico!" That was the name of it; a Lubin special release, of
the kind technically called "educational." Jean held her breath,
waiting for the scene that might mean so much to