at nothin'."

"He gimme a look to-night when I came off from the prance. He'd gimme
notice in a minute if he didn't need me. He knows that ballet would fall
like a bride's biscuit without me."

"Sure it would! He likes your work, hon'. I never pulled any strings for
you, neither. He just seen your try-out and liked it swell."

"Sure he did, but he's that jealous of you! He was dead sore when you
brought me down here to dress with you. Gee, you're tired, ain't you,
dearie?"

"Dog-tired! That staircase waltz always does me up."

"Lay your head down here a minute. Ain't that just life, though? Here we
are kicking just like a year ago in Fallows's 'Neatly Furnished.'"

"I ain't kickin', Ysobel. I wake up every morning pinchin' myself."

"Gawd, if you gotta long face, what ought the rest of us to have? You're
the luckiest girl any of us knows. Did you see what the new _Yellow
Book_ says about you? 'The Titian-headed Venus de Meelo'--how's
that--huh?"

"Just the same, you wouldn't change places with me, Ysobel! Don't
wriggle out of answering me! Now, would you?"

"Watch out, you're mussing up your beauty curls. Here, lemme pin that
diamond heart on the left shoulder of your dress. Hurry up, honey, Myers
will be here any minute, and you know how sore he gets if you keep him
waitin'."

"Do I?"

"Say, but that silver's swell on you!"

"Say, Ysobel, wait till they see my little sister. We could do a twin
act that would take 'em off their feet. That new 'Heavenly Twin' show
that Al read us the first act of, with Cottie and me featured, and you
doin' the Columbine--gee--"

"'Sh-h-h-h! There--he--is--knockin'."

"It can't be Hy already. I--I ain't dressed yet, Hy--just a minute! Oh,
it's a telegram, Ysobel; take it, like a good girl."

"Say, it ain't another from Third Row Bobbie, is it? You ought to tip
him off that he's wastin' his pin-money on you, hon'."

Della ripped the flap, read, and very suddenly sat down on the
silver-fox coat. The color drained out of her face, and her breath came
irregularly as if her heart had missed a beat.

"Della--Del--darlin'--what's the matter?"

"Oh, Gawd!"

"What, darlin'--what?"

"Read!"

Ysobel peered across the bare shoulder, her slim silk legs tiptoed and
her neck arched.

Maw buried yesterday. Money you sent for her birthday
paid funeral. Am ready. Wire directions.
COTTIE.

"Aw--aw, Del darlin'--honest, I--I don't know what to say, only
it--o