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The Moving Picture Girls at Sea: A Pictured Shipwreck That Became Real, a novel by Laura Lee Hope |
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Chapter 1. The Great Marine Film |
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_ CHAPTER I. THE GREAT MARINE FILM "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. "Yes, we did have fun," assented Ruth. "But it was hard work, too,--especially when that prairie fire came a little too close for comfort." "That _was_ rather scary," assented Alice. "But it was outdoors, and that was what I love. Oh, I can just smell that wonderful air yet!" and she breathed in a long breath. A look of annoyance passed over her face, and she made a gesture of disapproval, "wrinkling" her nose. "They're having corned beef and cabbage again downstairs," she said, pointing to the apartment below them. "Well, they have a right to it," Ruth said, with a tolerant smile. "Not when daddy hates it so," disagreed Alice. "Come on, let's make a cup of tea. And is there any cheese?" "Cheese?" "Yes," the younger girl went on. "I'm going to make a Welsh rarebit. Daddy just adores them, and the smell of the toast will take away the odor of that cabbage. Is there any cheese?" "I think so. But I thought you were tired." "I was, but I guess thinking of the moving picture days at Rocky Ranch acted as a tonic. I'm rested now. There!" She tossed the hat, which she had so mistreated, on a chair, slipped off her jacket and started for the kitchen. "I _think_ there is some cheese," went on Ruth, following her younger sister. "But don't make the rarebit as you did last time. It was so tough that Russ said it would do very well to half sole his rubber boots." "That was because I put the milk in too suddenly. I won't do it that way this time. Come on, we'll get up a nice little tea for daddy. He's sure to be tired also. They had to film that big scene of the accusation over three times before Mr. Pertell was satisfied." "Is that so? I didn't know that, I was so busy with that English play. Then father will be late." "A little. He said he'd follow us in about an hour, though. So we'll just about have it ready in time. Did Russ come out with you?" "No," and though she uttered but this simple word the cheeks of Ruth took on a more ruddy hue. "I saw Pearl waiting for him," went on Alice. "But----" "You did?" cried Ruth, and then she added quickly: "Oh, I mean I suppose he had to go with her to film that scene in Central Park, near the lion's cage." "Don't get jealous now," teased Alice. "I said Pearl waited for him, but, she is--still waiting, I guess." "What do you mean?" Ruth tried to appear indifferent, but it was not an unqualified success. "I mean that Russ got one of the other camera men to take his place, and go out with Miss Pennington," said Alice with a laugh as she began cutting the bread in thin slices for toast. "But Russ--" "He went up town. He told me to tell you he thought he could get that book you spoke of." "Oh, I didn't want him to go to all _that_ trouble!" remonstrated Ruth, looking at her sister, and then suddenly averting her gaze. "Guess he doesn't call much _trouble_ where _you_ are concerned," said Alice significantly, cutting up some chunks of cheese which she put in a double boiler with some lumps of butter. "He said if you wanted a book to give you some of the details of the country, where that English play was supposed to take place, you were going to have it." "It's awfully good of him," murmured Ruth. "I just casually mentioned that I'd like to know something about the people of that section, and he offered to get a book he had once heard of. But I didn't want him to make such a fuss over it." "La-la-la!" chanted Alice, about nothing in particular. The girls busied themselves getting tea. The kettle was soon singing on the gas stove, the crisp odor of toast had replaced the heavier one of cabbage, and the rarebit was almost ready to serve, when a step was heard out in the hall of the apartment house where the DeVere family had their New York home. "There's daddy!" exclaimed Alice. "And just in time," added Ruth, as she poured the boiling water on the tea, adding to the fragrant food perfumes that now filled the apartment. The key clicked in the lock, the door opened, and a rather imposing figure of a man entered, laying aside his hat and light overcoat, for the Spring day was a bit chilly. "Hello, Daddy!" called Alice, putting up her face to be kissed, as she came in from the kitchen with a plate of delicately browned toast. "You're just in time. And it's such a _lovely_ rarebit!" "That's good, my dear." "Oh, Father, how hoarse you are!" cried Ruth. "Is your throat bad again?" "Well, this harbor dampness isn't just the best medicine for it. But I shall spray it, and it will be better." He sank somewhat wearily into a chair as he spoke, and Ruth glided over to him. "Daddy," she said, "you look worried. Has anything happened? Is anything wrong at the moving picture studio?" "No, nothing wrong, but--" It was evident that something out of the usual had occurred. Even light-hearted Alice sensed it. "What is it?" she asked. "Oh, nothing so much," her father said in weary tones. "I suppose I shouldn't make such a fuss over it. But Mr. Pertell has finally decided to film the great marine drama, and that means we shall have to go out on the water, more or less. And with my sore throat that isn't just the best thing in the world for me." "A marine drama!" cried Alice. "Oh, I shall just love _that_!" A look of worry still clouded Mr. DeVere's face. "Father, there is something else," insisted Ruth. "You haven't told us all about this sea film." "No, I--I haven't," he said. "And, to tell the truth, I'd rather we weren't going to be in that marine drama." _ |
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