one Alice had used as a wrapper for her shoes (another paper which Mr.
DeVere had saved because of a notice in it) was a picture of the girl.

"It is she! Our girl--the one we knew as Estelle Brown--is Mildred
Passamore!" cried Alice as she looked at the picture in the paper.

"There is no doubt of it," agreed Ruth, and Mr. DeVere affirmed his
daughters' opinions.

Mr. Pertell was told of the occurrence, and, being a good judge of
pictures and persons, he decided there was no doubt as to the identity.

"We will telegraph to Mr. Passamore at once," decided the director.

The crisis--for such it was in the case of the injured girl--seemed to
mark a turn for the better. She slept nearly forty-eight hours,
awakening only to take a little nourishment. Then she slept again. She
did not again mention any names, nor, in fact, anything else. Her
friends could only wait for the arrival of Mr. Passamore to have him
make sure of the identity.

He had sent a message in answer to the one from Mr. Pertell saying that
he and his wife were hastening across the continent in a special train.

"That means he hasn't found his daughter up to this time," said the
manager, "and there is every chance that this girl is she."

Three days after her startling announcement Estelle or Mildred, as she
was variously called, was much better. She sat up and seemed to be in
her right mind.

"I don't in the least know what it is all about, nor how I came here,"
she said, smiling. "The last I remember is being in a railroad train on
my way from San Francisco to visit relatives in Seattle. There was a
crash, and the next I knew I found myself in bed here. I presume you
brought me here from the train wreck."

"Yes, you were brought here after the--the--ah, accident," said Mr.
Pertell, lamely.

"The nurse tells me you are a moving picture company," went on Mildred.
"I shall be interested to see how you act. I always had a half-formed
desire to be a moving picture actress, but I know Daddy Passamore would
never consent to it."

"And she's been in the films for three years or more, and doesn't
remember a thing about it!" murmured Alice. "Good-night!"

"Alice!" rebuked her sister. But Alice, for once, did not care for
Ruth's rebuke. Her astonishment was too great. And it was a queer case.

"We must be very careful!" said Dr. Wherry when, after a swift ride
across the continent, Mr. Passamore and his wife reached Oak Farm. "We
must not startle the