e play. The duke
has fled."

Mrs. Briskow's wrinkled face beamed. "Think of a gre't big man like you
playin' 'pretend' with a foolish old woman like me! I thought you had
more sense."

"I live in my own land of 'pretend,' just as you do. Why, I have a real
princess of my own."

"Honest?"

Gray nodded. "The Princess of Wichita Falls. Would you like to hear
about her? Well, she's small and dainty, as princesses should be, and
her eyes are like bluebells, Ma. They are brave, honest eyes that can
laugh or cry--the sort of eyes that make a man's head swim when he
looks into them too long. She carries herself like a great lady, and
she's very cool and business--I mean princess-like, to men. But in
reality she's just an adorable feminine creature who wants to be loved.
When she laughs two deep dimples come into her cheeks--marks of royal
favor. Some people may consider her too stern, too matter-of-fact, but
she isn't; in her boudoir there is scent and sachet and frilly, ribbony
things that nobody ever sees. And flowers from me. She loves roses best
of all and she says she buries her face in them. I send her roses,
mostly, so they can kiss her cheeks for me. A tiny yellow love bird in
a tiny yellow cage sings her awake every morning. I taught it the song
it warbles, but--she'll never understand what the little bird is trying
to say."

Ma Briskow had listened with rapt attention. Now, she inquired, "Does
she love you?"

"Didn't I tell you this was my game of pretense?" Gray said, gayly. "Do
you really think that an adorable creature whose head is full of
girlish notions and youthful ideals could care for the worldly, wicked
old Duke of Dallas? I am old, Ma, and I've gone the gait."

"Pshaw! You ain't any such thing."

"Well, perhaps I'm a better lover than I believe. Who knows?
Fortunately, however, it is all just an amusing game." The speaker rose
and looked at his watch. "It is lunch time, Mother Briskow, and I'm
famished."

As the two entered the hotel grounds, Gus and Allie hurried to meet
them, and the latter exclaimed, irritably: "It's about time you showed
up. We've been looking everywhere for you."

At sight of her husband's face Ma inquired, in sudden anxiety, "What's
wrong, Gus?"

"It's Buddy," Allie declared.

"'Tain't serious," Briskow said. "And it is, too. He's left school--run
away! Here, Mr. Gray, see what you make out of it."

Gray read aloud the letter that was handed to him, a letter from th