Produced by Al Haines. [Illustration: Cover] [Illustration: SHE PUT ALEXANDRIA INTO THE MOST COMFORTABLE OF HER CHAIRS AND DREW ANOTHER CLOSE TO IT. PAGE 103.] THE HONEY-POT BY THE COUNTESS BARCYǸSKA Author of "The Little Mother Who Sits at Home." NEW YORK E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 681 FIFTH AVENUE 1916 Copyright, 1916 BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY FIRST IMPRESSION, FEBRUARY 1916 SECOND IMPRESSION, FEBRUARY 1916 _I am a traveler in the great World-path; my garments are dirty and my feet are bleeding with thorns. Where should I achieve flower-beauty, the unsullied loveliness of a moment’s life? The gift that I proudly bring you is the heart of a woman. Here have all pains and joys gathered, the hopes and fears and shames of a daughter of the dust; here love springs up struggling toward immortal life. Herein lies an imperfection which yet is noble and grand. If the flower service is finished, my master, accept this as your servant for the days to come_. —Rabindranath Tagore. THE HONEY-POT I In her petticoat, barefooted, because the morning was sultry, Miss Maggy Delamere plied a well-worn hare’s foot to her cheeks with the sure touch of an artist. Professionally speaking and adding a final "e" to the term, that is what she was—chorus-lady by courtesy, showgirl in the vernacular of the stage. On her small dressing-table were ranged a number of pots and bottles, unguents and creams. A battered make-up box containing remnants and ends of variously colored grease sticks flanked a looking-glass of inadequate size and small reflective power. A beam of sunlight striking across a corner of the table danced with minute particles of dust from a powder-puff. The astonishing amount of vigor she put into the process of facial adornment, the prodigality with which she used pigments and washes, were characteristic of her temperament, all generosity and recklessness. Paint and powder were a habit with her, not an exigency. No girl of nineteen could have needed them less. Her complexion, well-nigh flawless, bloomed beneath the unnecessary veneer. Not even a cracked mirror could mitigate her good looks nor detract anything from her vivacious expression. It reflected a speaking face even when the lips were still. She was taking unusual pains with her appearance this morning. A card stuck in the edge of the looking-glass provided the reason. _Memo. from A. Stannard, Dramatic Agent._ PALL MALL THEATRE. _Voice Trial, June 22nd, 10.45 a. m._