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why I’m presuming to give you this little talk for your own good. If ever you feel moved to make advances to a matinee idol,—don’t do it!”

Alicia looked decidedly chagrined and a little angry, but Mr. Brown proceeded to talk of other matters, and though it was plain to be seen he meant the advice he had given them, all unpleasant effect was forgotten as he began to tell them some funny anecdotes.

And then tea was brought in, and they all grouped round the teatable, still listening to his entertaining chat.

The actor was a good-looking man, but far from being as handsome as he appeared on the stage. His fascination and charm were evidently as much put on as his swarthy complexion and long black hair, which so became him as an East Indian. Really, his hair was ash-coloured, and he was rather bald.

“I expect to go on the stage,” observed Dolly, as they ate the cakes and bon-bons that accompanied the elaborate tea service.

“You do!” exclaimed the guest. “Why?”

“Because I feel I have talent for it. Not so much as an actress, perhaps, but as a singer. What shall I do first, Mr. Brown, to prepare for the light opera stage?”

James Brown looked at her kindly. “I see you are in earnest,” he said, in a serious tone, “and so, I will treat your question practically. The first thing to do, is to finish your education, and then start on a course of voice training. By the time you have done these things, come to me again, and I will advise you further. Do you think me flippant?” he continued, as Dolly looked decidedly disappointed. “I am telling you just the line to follow that I expect my own daughter to pursue. Muriel has promise of a good singing voice. I assume you have that hope also, otherwise you wouldn’t think of a stage career. Tell your parents what I have told you, and if they care to consult me on the subject I shall be more than glad to meet them.”

“Good gracious! What a come down!” cried Dotty. “We thought of course Doll could start in in the chorus at most any time, and work up.”

“That has been done successfully,” and Mr. Brown smiled, “about one time in ten thousand. My plan is surer and better in every way.”

“Is that the way Miss Marie Desmond learned?” asked Dolly, wistfully.

“Yes, my child. Miss Desmond worked long and faithfully before she attained her present position. If you’d care to meet her and have a little talk with her, I can arrange it. Suppose you all come to my house some afternoon, and Muriel will make a little party for you, and I’m sure I can persuade Miss Desmond to meet you for a few minutes at least. She is not a lady easy of access, I can tell you, but she will meet friends of mine.”

“Well, well, Jim, hobnobbing with young people, are you?” sang out a hearty voice from the hall, and Uncle Jeff came stalking into the room. “Glad to see you, my boy. You seem to be getting on famously.”

“Yes, indeed. Your nieces and their friends are the most charming bunch of young people I’ve seen in a long time. We’re discussing all sorts of matters of interest. Join us in a cup of tea, won’t you?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” and Uncle Jeff took a seat among the group. “Yes, thank you, Alicia, fix me up a cup. Sugar, please, but no lemon. How’s your wife, Jim? Muriel all right?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m just asking these girls to come round, say tomorrow, for a little party. Or would you rather have a box party at the theatre?”

The girls decided in favour of the afternoon party at Mr. Brown’s home, and the matter was settled. And then, somehow, the two men fell into conversation, which in no way interested the girls, being about political matters and business affairs. Indeed, their very presence seemed to be forgotten by the gentlemen. Absentmindedly Uncle Jeff accepted a second cup of tea, and then a third, still arguing a point of finance with his guest.

Alicia, in high dudgeon, made a motion to the others that they leave the room, and Dolly nodded assent.

So, noiselessly, the four rose from their seats, and stole out into the hall. Mr. Brown looked up, saw them go, and waved his hand with a smile of farewell, but Uncle Jeff paid no attention, if indeed, he noticed their departure.

“Well! of all things!” exclaimed Alicia, as they sought refuge in the library, which was in the rear of the house. “I call that positively insulting!”

“Now, ‘Licia,” and Dotty laughed, “you know the man said he could only give us ten minutes of his time, and he gave us more than a half hour. I don’t think we’ve any reason to complain.”

“Well, I do! It was a perfect fizzle, the whole thing! I’m utterly disgusted! Matinee idol! Pooh, he’s just an every-day man!”

“Well, that’s just what he said he was,” rejoined Bernice, who was almost as much disappointed as Alicia. “But he was very kind and pleasant, I think.”

“Oh, kind enough,” and Alicia still pouted; “but I thought he would be young and—and sporty, you know.”

“He certainly isn’t sporty! whatever he is,” said Dolly. “I think he’s awfully nice. I’m glad we’re going to his daughter’s party. It’s fine to go to a place like that.”

“She’s just a little girl,” complained Alicia. “Fourteen years old! I don’t want to go to an infant class!”

“All right,” put in Bernice, “you can stay home, then. I’m delighted to go. To think of telling the girls at home that we went to Bayne Coriell’s daughter’s party! My, won’t they think we’re grand!”

“That’s so,” agreed Alicia. “Not everybody could get such an invitation. We couldn’t, only that he’s Uncle Jeff’s friend. But I can tell you, girls, if I hadn’t got up this whole scheme we wouldn’t have been asked there. You can thank me for it.”

“Dolly, too,” said Dotty. “If she hadn’t asked Mrs. Berry, he wouldn’t have come at all.”

“Yes, he would; why wouldn’t he?”

“Oh, pshaw! It was all made up by Uncle Jeff. You could see that. Mrs. Berry told him, and he let us go ahead, just to have a joke on us. Mr. Brown came mostly to see Mr. Forbes,—not us.”

“You’re right, you little smarty-cat,” and Alicia smiled at the astute Dotty. “And I do believe Uncle Jeff meant to give us a lesson about writing to actors. I thought it was queer he took it so easily,—and Mrs. Berry too. They played right into our hands. They wouldn’t have done that if the actor person had been a stranger.”

“Of course they wouldn’t,” and Dotty wagged her head. “I felt sure there was some reason why Mrs. Berry said yes to Doll so easily. But I didn’t think Coriell Bayne, or whatever his name is, was old enough to be Uncle Forbes’ chum.”

“He isn’t exactly,” said Dolly; “that is, he said his father and Mr. Forbes were friends. I suppose the son carried on the friendship.”

“He looks as old as my father,—off the stage,” said Bernice; “but on it, he might be my father’s son!”

“You can’t tell a thing about actors!” declared Alicia. “If ever I think another one is handsome and fascinating, I’ll remember James Bayne, and know he’s nothing but an old fogy!”

“Oh, I don’t call Mr. Brown an old fogy,” defended Dotty. “I think he’s interesting and pleasant; just about like my father, or yours, Doll.”

“He’s not a bit like our fathers, though he doesn’t look much younger. Anyway, I’m glad I’ve met him, but he did give me a setback about my career.”

“Is that a real stunt, Dolly?” and Alicia looked at her curiously. “Do you really want to go on the stage? It doesn’t seem like you.”

“Yes, I do, or at least, I did, until Mr. Brown said what he did. I don’t know as I want to devote my whole life to getting ready for a stage career. I’m going to think it over and see about it.”

“You funny little thing! I hope you’ll decide to do it, and in about ten or twenty years, when I’m an old married woman, I’ll come to your first performance.”

“Whose performance? Who’s stage struck?” asked Uncle Jeff, walking in at the door. He had a way of appearing unexpectedly.

“Dolly,” answered Alicia. “She wants to be a prima donna.”

“Bless my soul!” exclaimed the old man, “why, one reason I had Jim Brown here to-day, was to knock such foolishness out of your heads.”

“And he did his part all right, Uncle Forbes,” said Dolly, looking serious, “but I don’t quite take the knocking. At least, I haven’t decided what I’ll do about it.”

“Oho, you haven’t, haven’t you?” and the old man raised his shaggy eyebrows. “Well, Alicia, how did you like your handsome, fascinating, young man?”

Alicia had quite recovered her good humour, and she replied, laughingly, “Oh, except that he isn’t very young or handsome or fascinating, I liked him pretty well.”

“You’re a good girl,” pronounced her uncle. “I thought maybe you’d resent the little trick I played on you. But when you raved over the handsome hero, and the Greek god effects of him, I couldn’t refrain from showing you how deceitful appearances may be. Jim’s a fine chap, not at all a silly flirt, and his daughter is a lovely young girl, a little older than you girls—”

“Why, Uncle Jeff, Mr. Brown says she’s younger, he said Muriel is not yet fifteen.”

“Bless me! is that so? Well, he must know. But I can tell you, she seems as old or older than any of you. I suppose because she’s been brought up among stage people. But a mighty nice girl, all the same. And Mrs. Brown is a delightful woman. All nice people. I’m glad he asked you to his home. It’ll be a rare treat for you.”

“When is it to be, tomorrow?” asked Dotty.

“We don’t know yet. When Brown went away he said he’d consult his wife and daughter and telephone us about it. I fancy they’ll make quite an affair of it. See here, have you all proper frocks to wear? I don’t want my girls less well dressed than the others there. And I have a sneaking notion these are your best clothes.” Uncle Jeff’s eyes twinkled as he glanced at their dresses. “Anyway, I’d like to give each of you a new frock. Go tomorrow morning and get them.”

And having given the order, Uncle Jeff stalked away.

CHAPTER IX FINE FEATHERS

Isn’t he the funniest and the very dearest old thing in the world!” said Alicia, in a whisper, as Mr. Forbes disappeared. “I’ve got loads of clothes, but I’m glad to have him give me a dress, for I’ll warrant it’ll be about the best money can buy.”

“Let’s get the best New York can show us,” chimed in Bernice.

“I can’t do it,” said Dolly, decidedly. “My mother wouldn’t like me to accept a dress from Mr. Forbes.”

“Oh, fiddlesticks, Dollyrinda!” said Dotty, “it’s not charity. My mother wouldn’t let me either, ordinarily speaking, but this is different.”

“How is it different?”

“Why, Mr. Forbes doesn’t look on it as giving as clothes because we’re poor—”

“He does so, Dot! You can’t fool me! He knows that Alicia and Bernie can afford grand clothes and we can’t, and so he gives us each a dress to make it easy for us to take them.”

Now, Alicia privately thought this was just about the truth, but Bernice thought differently; “Rubbish!” she cried. “Uncle Jeff

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