“Oh!” cried Ruth, breaking in with some small enthusiasm, “let’s go to Beach Plum Point.”
“Where is that?” asked Helen.
“It is down in Maine. Beyond Portland. And Mr. Hammond and his company are there making my ‘Seaside Idyl.’”
“Oh, bully!” cried Helen, repeating one of her brother’s favorite phrases, and now quite as excited over the idea as he. “I do so love to act in movies. Is there a part in that ‘Idyl’ story for me?”
“I cannot promise that,” Ruth said. “It would be up to the director. I wasn’t taking much interest in this particular picture. I wrote the scenario, you know, before I went to France. I have been giving all my thought to——
“Oh, dear! If we could only find my lost story!”
“Come on!” interrupted Tom. “Let’s not talk about that. Will you write to Jennie Stone?”
“I will. At once,” his sister declared.
“Do. I’ll take it to the post office and send it special delivery. Tell her to wire her answer, and let it be ‘yes.’ We’ll take both cars. Father won’t mind.”
“Oh, but!” cried Helen. “How about a chaperon?”