upper center. Enter the 'Marysville Pet.' 'I
have heard all. 'Tis a base calumny. It cannot be HE--Randolph!
Never!'--'Dare you accompany us will!' Tableau.

"Is Miss Euphemia--here?" gasped Rand, practical even in his
embarrassment.

"Or-r-rder! Scene second. Summit of mountain--moonlight Peaks of Snowdon
in distance. Right--lonely cabin. Enter slowly up defile, Sol, Mrs. Sol,
the 'Pet.' Advance slowly to cabin. Suppressed shriek from the
'Pet,' who rushes to recumbent figure--Left--discovered lying beside
cabin-door. ''Tis he! Hist! he sleeps!' Throws blanket over him, and
retires up stage--so." Here Sol achieved a vile imitation of the "Pet's"
most enchanting stage-manner. "Mrs. Sol advances--Center--throws open
door. Shriek! ''Tis Mornie, the lost found!' The 'Pet' advances: 'And
the father is?'--'Not Rand!' The 'Pet' kneeling: 'Just Heaven, I thank
thee!' No, it is--'"

"Hush!" said Rand appealingly, looking toward the cabin.

"Hush it is!" said the actor good-naturedly. "But it's all right, Mr.
Rand: we'll pull you through."

Later in the morning, Rand learned that Mornie's ill-fated connection
with the Star Variety Troupe had been a source of anxiety to Mrs. Sol,
and she had reproached herself for the girl's infelicitous debut.

"But, Lord bless you, Mr. Rand!" said Sol, "it was all in the way of
business. She came to us--was fresh and new. Her chance, looking at
it professionally, was as good as any amateur's; but what with her
relations here, and her bein' known, she didn't take. We lost money on
her! It's natural she should feel a little ugly. We all do when we get
sorter kicked back onto ourselves, and find we can't stand alone. Why,
you wouldn't believe it," he continued, with a moist twinkle of his
black eyes; "but the night I lost my little Rosey, of diphtheria in Gold
Hill, the child was down on the bills for a comic song; and I had to
drag Mrs. Sol on, cut up as she was, and filled up with that much of Old
Bourbon to keep her nerves stiff, so she could do an old gag with me
to gain time, and make up the 'variety.' Why, sir, when I came to the
front, I was ugly! And when one of the boys in the front row sang out,
'Don't expose that poor child to the night air, Sol,'--meaning Mrs.
Sol,--I acted ugly. No, sir, it's human nature; and it was quite natural
that Mornie, when she caught sight o' Mrs. Sol's face last night, should
rise up and cuss us both. Lord, if she'd only acted like that! But the
old l