younger girl closed her eyes. Truly she seemed much "fagged," and worn
out.

"But, Alice, dear--your hat!"

"It doesn't matter, Ruth. Please let me rest. I thought we'd never get
home."

"But it isn't your old hat, Alice, and----"

"It's an old hat from now on!" broke in the younger girl, not opening
her eyes. "It's spoiled anyhow. Some of the water from that parlor
scene, where Mr. Bunn upset the globe of gold fish, splashed on it, and
the spots never will come out."

"Oh, Alice, is your hat spoiled?"

"It doesn't matter. Mr. Pertell is going to buy me a new one. He said it
was up to the company to do that, especially as I did so well in that
burning room scene the other day. There!" and the girl on the couch
raised her small fist and plumped it full on the crown of the chic
little toque she was wearing.

"Alice DeVere!" cried her sister, aghast.

"Ruth DeVere--Lady Clarissa--Señorita Alamondi! Whatever you like, only
let me--alone! I've posed and acted and otherwise contorted myself
before at least five thousand feet of film today, and I'm not going to
be disturbed now, just for the sake of a hat that is as good as paid for
anyhow, so 'please go 'way and let me sleep,'" and Alice murmured the