t."

"She and her sister Flo are engaged by us regularly," replied Werner,
with an air of pride. "They cost us a lot of money, as you may imagine,
but we can't afford to let any competitor have them."

If Arthur Weldon felt any chagrin at this, discovery it was not in the
least shared by the others of his party. Beth was admiring the young
girl's grace and dignity; Patsy was delighted by her loveliness in the
fleecy, picturesque costume she wore; Louise felt pride in the fact that
she had been introduced to "a real actress," while Uncle John wondered
what adverse fortune had driven this beautiful, refined girl to pose
before a motion picture camera.

They soon discovered Florence Stanton in the picture, too, among the
dancing girls; so there could be no mistake of identity. Mrs. Montrose
was not visible during the performance; but afterward, when Samson had
pulled down the pillars of the temple and it had fallen in ruins, when
the "show" was over and the actors trooping away to their
dressing-rooms, then the visitors were ushered into the main office of
the establishment to meet Mr. Goldstein, the manager, and seated by the
window was the aunt of the two girls, placidly reading a book. She looked
up with a smile as they entered.

"Did you see the play?" she asked. "And isn't it grand and impressive? I
hope you liked Maud's 'Delilah.' The poor child has worked so hard to
create the character."

They assured her the girl was perfect in her part, after which Mr.
Merrick added: "I'm astonished you did not go out to see the play
yourself."

She laughed at his earnestness.

"It's an old story to me," she replied, "for I have watched Maud rehearse
her part many times. Also it is probable that some--if not all--of the
scenes of 'Samson and Delilah' will be taken over and over, half a dozen
times, before the director is satisfied."

"The performance seemed quite perfect to-day," said Uncle John. "I
suppose, Mrs. Montrose, you do not--er--er--act, yourself?"

"Oh. I have helped out, sometimes, when a matronly personation is
required, but my regular duties keep me busily engaged in the office."

"May we ask what those duties are?" said Louise.

"I'm the reader of scenarios."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Patsy. "I'm sure we don't know any more than we
did before."

"A 'scenario,'" said the lady, "is a description of the plot for a
photo-play. It is in manuscript form and hundreds of scenarios are
submitted to us from ever