e big car."

Then all went to the hall for a dance. The large reception hall was
admirably adapted for this purpose, and the strains of a fine phonograph
soon set all feet in motion.

Dancing with Raymond Gale, Azalea pirouetted gaily with some fancy
steps.

"Good!" he cried, falling into the spirit of the thing, and they pranced
about in a mad whirl.

"How Western she is," Elise said to Phil, with whom she was sedately
one-stepping.

"Clever dancer," he returned, briefly, and the subject was not
continued.

"Come for a walk," said Gale to Azalea, as the dance was over.

"No; let's sit on the porch a minute," she preferred.

"Come along to this end, then, for I want to say something particular,"
he urged, and they found a pleasant seat, from which they could see the
moon through the leafy wistaria branches.

"Look here, Azalea," Gale began, "I know what you're up to,--with the
Bixbys."

"What!" Azalea's voice was full of fear.

"Yes, and there's no reason you should be so secretive about it."

"Oh, Raymond,--there _is_ reason! Don't tell on me, will you?"

"Of course not,--if you forbid it. But when Farnsworth asks me, what am
I to say?"

"What does he ask you?"

"Who the Bixbys are. And other awkward questions. You see, I know old
Bixby,--and I knew as soon as I saw him here that day that he had drawn
you into his snares."

"Don't put it that way--I wasn't exactly drawn in."

"Well, you're in, all right. Why, Azalea, I saw you in a picture in New
York, night before last."

"You did?"

"Yes; in 'Star of the West.' Don't try to fib out of it--"

"What!"

"Now you needn't get mad! I know you're not entirely above a little
fibbing, now and then!"

"I think I'll go in the house,--I don't like you."

"Oh, Zaly, behave yourself. Be a sensible girl, and face the music! Why
don't you own it all up, and tell Farnsworth the whole story? It isn't a
criminal thing to act in the 'movies.'"

"They think it is,--Bill and Patty. They'd never forgive me!"

"Oh, pshaw, they would, too! Anyway, I want you to do it,--tell 'em, I
mean. Won't you, Zaly,--won't you,--for my sake?"

Gale was sincere and earnest, and Azalea thrilled to the strong
tenderness in his voice as he urged her.

But she hesitated to consent.

"I can't, Ray," she said, at last. "Truly, I can't. They'd--they'd turn
me off--"

"Oh, Azalea, what nonsense! They'd do no such thing!"

"Yes, they would. You don't know Bill. He's good a