The Moving Picture Girls at Sea

"Well, at last a breathing period, Ruth. Oh, I am surely tired!" and the girl threw herself on the couch, without stopping to remove her light jacket and hat. Her head sank wearily on a cushion.

"Oh, Alice! Be careful! Look out!" exclaimed the other occupant of the pleasant little room, a room made habitable by the articles of tasteful adornment in it, rather than by the location of the apartment, or the place itself. There was a "homey" air about it.

"I'm too tired to look out, or even look in," was the answer, as the younger girl closed her eyes. Truly she seemed much "fagged," and worn out.

"But, Alice, dear--your hat!"

"It doesn't matter, Ruth. Please let me rest. I thought we'd never get home."

"But it isn't your old hat, Alice, and----"

"It's an old hat from now on!" broke in the younger girl, not opening her eyes. "It's spoiled anyhow. Some of the water from that parlor scene, where Mr. Bunn upset the globe of gold fish, splashed on it, and the spots never will come out."

"Oh, Alice, is your hat spoiled?"

"It doesn't matter. Mr. Pertell is going to buy me a new one. He said it was up to the company to do that, especially as I did so well in that burning room scene the other day. There!" and the girl on the couch raised her small fist and plumped it full on the crown of the chic little toque she was wearing.

"Alice DeVere!" cried her sister, aghast.

"Ruth DeVere--Lady Clarissa--Senorita Alamondi! Whatever you like, only let me--alone! I've posed and acted and otherwise contorted myself before at least five thousand feet of film today, and I'm not going to be disturbed now, just for the sake of a hat that is as good as paid for anyhow, so 'please go 'way and let me sleep,'" and Alice murmured the chorus of a once popular song.

Ruth sighed. Somehow, looking at her gentle and refined face, one understood that a sigh, from her, was the only possible answer under the circumstances. Not that the girl on the couch, with closed eyes, was unrefined. But there was a wholesome air of good health about her that caused one to think of a "jolly good fellow," rather than a girl who needed to be helped on and off trolley cars.

"You are tired," commented Ruth, after a pause. "Shall I make you a cup of tea, dear? Or we could go over to Mrs. Dalton's, if you like. You know she told us always to come in when we came from the theatre, and have tea."

"No, dear, thank you. It's awfully good of you to offer, but I don't want you to trouble. I'll be all right in a few minutes. I just want to rest."

"It was a tiresome day; wasn't it, dear?"

"I should say so, 'and then--some,' as Russ would say."

"You shouldn't quote Russ when he uses slang," was the older girl's rebuke.

"Can't help it, Ruth. That just seemed to fit. But you can't feel so very rested yourself. You had some heavy parts today."

"Oh, I don't mind. I really was in love with that role of Lady Clarissa. I always did like English plays, anyhow."

"Well, we are getting more than our share of them this season. I wish Mr. Pertell would swing to a good American drama again. Say, didn't we have fun at Rocky Ranch?" and as she asked this some of the weariness seemed to slip off Alice as a discarded garment is let fall. She sat up, her eyes flashing with fun, and her cheeks that had been pale were now suffused with a heightened color.