aded by a dense tree whose
name she did not know. She was thinking it felt a lot like her old
trouping days, when her telephone tinkled and a voice announced Mrs.
Lissome. Lissome? Lesam. Irish Mary, of course. Harrietta's maid,
engaged for the trip, had failed her at the last moment. Now her glance
rested on the two massive trunks and the litter of smart, glittering
bags that strewed the room. A relieved look crept into her eyes. A knock
at the door. A resplendent figure was revealed at its opening. The look
in Harrietta's eyes vanished.

Irish Mary looked like the mother of a girl who was earning five
thousand a week. She was marcelled, silk-clad, rustling, gold-meshed,
and, oh, how real in spite of it all as she beamed upon the dazzled
Harrietta.

"Out with ye!" trumpeted this figure, brushing aside Harrietta's
proffered chair. "There'll be no stayin' here for you. You're coming
along with me, then, bag _and_ baggage." She glanced sharply about.
"Where's your maid, dearie?"

"Disappointed me at the last minute. I'll have to get someone----"

"We've plenty. You're coming up to our place."

"But, Mary, I can't. I couldn't. I'm tired. This room----"

"A hole. Wait till you see The Place. Gardens and breakfast rooms and
statues and fountains and them Jap boys runnin' up and down like mice.
We rented it for a year from that Goya Ciro. She's gone back East. How
she ever made good in pictures I don't know, and her face like a
hot-water bag for expression. Lyddy's going to build next year. They're
drawin' up the plans now. The Place'll be nothin' compared to it when
it's finished. Put on your hat. The boys'll see to your stuff here."

"I can't. I couldn't. You're awfully kind, Mary dear----"

Mary dear was at the telephone. "Mrs. Lissome. That's who. Send up that
Jap boy for the bags."

Mrs. Lissome's name and Mrs. Lissome's commands apparently carried
heavily in Hollywood. A uniformed Jap appeared immediately as though
summoned by a genie. The bags seemed to spring to him, so quickly was he
enveloped by their glittering surfaces. He was off with the burdens,
invisible except for his gnomelike face and his sturdy bow legs in their
footman's boots.

"I can't," said Harrietta, feebly, for the last time. It was her
introduction to the topsy-turvy world into which she had come. She felt
herself propelled down the stairs by Irish Mary, who wasn't Irish Mary
any more, but a Force whose orders were obeyed. In the curved