against his left temple. Underneath this was written in a running,
angular, distinguished hand, "Very truly yours, Clifford Armytage."
This, and prints of it similarly inscribed, would one day go to
unknown admirers who besought him for likenesses of himself.

But Merton lost no time in scanning these pictorial triumphs. He was
turning the pages of the magazines he had brought, his first hasty
search being for new photographs of his heroine. He was quickly
rewarded. Silver Screenings proffered some fresh views of Beulah
Baxter, not in dangerous moments, but revealing certain quieter
aspects of her wondrous life. In her kitchen, apron clad, she
stirred something. In her lofty music room she was seated at her
piano. In her charming library she was shown "Among Her Books." More
charmingly she was portrayed with her beautiful arms about the
shoulders of her dear old mother. And these accompanied an interview
with the actress.

The writer, one Esther Schwarz, professed the liveliest trepidation
at first meeting the screen idol, but was swiftly reassured by the
unaffected cordiality of her reception. She found that success had
not spoiled Miss Baxter. A sincere artist, she yet absolutely lacked
the usual temperament and mannerisms. She seemed more determined
than ever to give the public something better and finer. Her
splendid dignity, reserve, humanness, high ideals, and patient study
of her art had but mellowed, not hardened, a gracious personality.
Merton Gill received these assurances without surprise. He knew
Beulah Baxter would prove to be these delightful things. He read on
for the more exciting bits.

"I'm so interested in my work," prettily observed Miss Baxter to the