The Washington times., 1913-10-28

to be quite a friend of hers, and
thought you might know where l coul'
| find her"
The girls kimono-clad figure plumpet
down on the edge of a trunk and sn
| clasped her knee with both hands
swinging her foot idly.
No" she said. Il haven't seen he
since she left the show. She never toir
chummy with me than with snybod:
else in the company.
Il liked her awfully. She was th'
incest girl with the show, and not a bi
airy when Mr.. Schumann gave her Mis-
Hayes part. She boarded on the sam,
block where did, and we used to wall
home together every night She wal
funny, wasn't she, Mr. Schumann? At
ter the first two or three performances
while she was still in the chorus, sh'
lows waiting at the stage door for her
| but she wouldn't notice one of them.
Tho last night We walked home to
Sether she seemed just the same a.
ever. only she asked me a lot about m!
| folks out home in Michigan and why
| went on the stage, and all that. Sh
| was always askin' questions, so / didn
| think anything of il. only she seemed
sort of gloomy and thoughtful. Tn,
| next day was Saturday and she didn'
| show up for the matinee, and after i
| was over ran around to her boarding
house and found she'd gone She nevcl
came back. and haven't seen hel
| since. When did you see her last; sine,
f, she played in the 'Aeroplane Girl?
| No, not since then. You've never
even heard of her since?" asked Yorke
| Moo. j don't think i have" the cir
answered, hesitatingly.
You don't think SO? How do You
mean, Miss Allaire?'
| We'll, / told you she was always
askin' questions and leading you on to
tell her all your troubles. Once when
was kind of blue and homesick / told
| her about mothers garden home, and a
| kind of old-fashioned rose that grows
there that you never see in the florists
| Just a real old country rose.
II never told anybody else in the East
about it; don't know how / happened
TO speak of it to her. Well. after the
! 'Aeroplane Girl closed last suNmer
got sick and went to the hospital, and
one day when l was getting better two
great big baskets came for me, full of
| wine, and fruit, and jelly. and things,
| and bunch as large as this"-measur-
! ing with extended arms-"of those same
dear little sweet-smeling yellow roses.
No name came with them, but nobody
| from home knew where / was, and no.
| body else knew about my longin' fol
those flowers but her.
You really think she sent them
asked Yorke. eagerly.
Yes, I do. And ! think she didn't
send any name, because-because-we
| where would she get all those lovely
| things? She was as poor as me. ]
| think maybe She didn't put her name
| in because she didn't want me to know.
! She needn't have minded the girl
| added, most fiercely. II wouldn't have
| caredi She was kind and sweet and i
liked her, and that's enough for me-"
did anyone pay her any special at
tention when she was playing here in
| The Aeroplane Girf?"
wei, there was one fellow. Regular
swell he was. too. We used to jolly ner
about him. After her first performance
In Miss Hayes part he had a stage box
for every night. Sometimes he had a
party with him. mostly men, but more
often he came all alone, and then he
never took his eyes off her.
HE sent her notes and flowers all the
time. She never took the flowers home
with her, though, and tore up the notes
without opening the envelopes. stu,
everybody in the company knew she'd
made a mash, and when she left so
suddenly they thought, of course, that
that he had something to do with 1t.
But it wasn't so, for i was right on
the end in the opening chorus, as Mr..
Schumann can tell you, and ] saw his
face when the curtain went up the night
she'd left and Dora Hayes came on in
her old part. He was the most sur
prised man you ever saw, and disap-
pointed, too
You have no idea who he was?"
asked Yorke, quickly.
We'll. yes Miss Allaire admitted,
hesitatingly. Ethel Lorraine knew a
man who knew him. His name is Parke
Townsend
Well, Miss Allaire. thank you for
seeing me-" Yorke said, rising. I'VE
must give you a chance to dress now
for your next entrance. I'm sorry you
couldn't tell me more about Miss Burch-
ard
would you like to see a little photo
enc afternoon" asked Miss Allaire, un-
expectedly. It's only picture post
card, but it's real good of her.
Indeed / would" assented Yorke,
heartily, his voice controlled and steady
at this new, unhoped-for turn of for
tune.
It's here somewhere" Miss Allaire
rejoined. jumping up and opening her
trunk. in which she rummaged energet-
iCally. There. I've got il, She looked
awfully pretty in that little hat, didn't
she, and she trimmed it herself"
Yorke scanned the face eagerly-she
did, indeed, look lawfully pretty"-the
soft oval of her face under the modest
Lat was charming; the lips mobile the
nose slender and delicately nodded, the
eyes large and clear and steady under
the clearly defined arch of her brows.
You knew that Marie Burchard's yell
low hair wasn't real-that she wore a
wigT' Yorke swung suddenly around
upon the girl
She flushed.
Yes" she admitted. II knew It, but
i didn't know you did, and 1 wasn't go
ing to give her away. l could tell, of
course.
Once ! saw her own hair coming out
a little at the back, and IL was pretty
enough for anyone-reddish brown, and
all little curls. | don't see what she
wore a wig for; if she'd wanted light
hair she could have bleached it.
never liked to ask her, though
Miss Allaire," asked Yorke earnestly.
may ] ask a great favor of you? Will
you allow me to keep this photograph
for Just a week. 1t will help me i'm
mensely in my search for her, and |
will promise faithfully TO return it to
you at the end of that timer
Miss Allaire looked as II she would
have liked TO refuse, but in the pres
ence CT her manager she considered Il
better policy to grant the request of her
unknown visitor.
Yes. suppose you can have it, she
said. ruefully. But / don't believe you'll
ever take the trouble to return IL. Men
always forSet such things. 7 vas aw-
fully fond of Marie. and that's the only
picture ] have Of her. I've kept II all
this time. Still, if il will help you find
her''--she broke off suddenly and
Looked at him with shrewd eyes How
do | know she'll want you to find her?'
oh. Mr.. Schumann, here. who knows
all the circumstances. will tell you that