"Very well, Miss Thorpe. I'll be here."
Janet busied herself about the nursery and Azalea went downstairs with the baby in her arms.
On the vine-shaded porch they sat, and as Van Reypen stayed chatting with some of the Gale family, Azalea and the baby were each other's sole companions.
Their conversation was a little one-sided, but Azalea's remarks were mostly eulogies and compliments and Fleurette's engaging smiles seemed to betoken appreciation if not acknowledgment.
A footstep approaching made Azalea look up.
Before her stood Mr. Merritt, the assistant director of the film company.
"Good afternoon, Miss Thorpe," he said, politely; "I see the little one is in a sunshiny mood."
"Yes;" Azalea returned, but her very soul quaked with fear. Well she knew what was in this man's mind.
"And so, I'm going to ask you to run over to the studio just a few minutes and give us one more chance at a good picture of that scene."
"And I'm going to refuse," Azalea returned with spirit. "You know very well, Mr. Merritt, that I'm not going to let you pose this child again."