Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery fiction; Young women -- Juvenile fiction
Affectionately Patty put her arm round the girl, and led her away
upstairs.
"Sleep well," she said, as she left Azalea in her own room. "And don't
come downstairs in the morning before ten or eleven. I'm sure I shan't.
The servants will clear everything up, and Bill will oversee it. I hate
the aftermath of a Fair,--don't you?"
Azalea nodded agreement, and Patty kissed her good-night and went off.
But it was only eight o'clock the next morning when Azalea crept softly
downstairs. She was neatly attired in a cloth suit, with a fresh white
shirtwaist and a pretty hat.
She was not at all sleepy or weary-looking and she went out through the
pantry to the kitchen.
"Please give me a cup of coffee," she said to the cook, who was just
beginning her day's work.
She looked in amazement at Azalea, for she had had no orders over night
to serve an early breakfast.
"I'll get you something as quick as I can," she said, good-naturedly. "I
didn't know you was going to town, Miss Thorpe."
"Just decided," said Azalea, carelessly; "and I don't want
breakfast,--only a cup of coffee and a bit of toast. There's a good
cookie."
Smiling at the cajolery, the cook bustled about and soon had an
appetising little repast ready. Azalea gratefully accepted the poached
egg and the marmalade in addition to what she had requested, and in a
short time had finished and prepared to depart.
But she did not ask for one of the Farnsworth motor-cars; instead, she
walked swiftly out of the gate and down the street toward the trolley
line.
She waited for a car and when it came she got aboard and settled down
for a long ride.
At last she got out and a short walk brought her to her destination.
This was nothing more nor less than a great moving-picture studio.
There were a number of people about, all very busy and intent on what
they were doing.
Azalea seemed to be known, for two or three nodded pleasantly to her as
she went swiftly along to the office.
There she presented herself, and was received by Mr. Bixby, the man who
had one day called on her at Wistaria Porch.
"Well, Miss Thorpe," he said, briskly, "I suppose you heard the news.
Miss Frawley has broken her ankle--"
"Yes, I heard that," said Azalea, with a sympathetic look.
"And we think we want to put you in her place,--at least, for a trial."
"I'm glad to try," Azalea said, earnestly. "I'll do my best to make
good. But I can't bring the baby again."
"Oh, pshaw, yes you can,--just once more, anyway. But never mind that
now. We must see about your own part. You know there's danger, Miss
Thorpe?"
"Miss Frawley braved the danger," Azalea said, quietly.
"Yes, and Miss Frawley broke her ankle."
"I know; and I may break mine, but I'll take the chance. I am not
afraid,--though I well know that accidents may happen. What was Miss
Frawley doing?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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