“No, the little mouse-like one with gray furs, and she’s played with——”
“Wait,” commanded Madeline. “You’ve told enough for the first time round. The stunning woman in blue velvet, if you care to know, is the maid of the mouse-like actress. I’ve talked to her. Now, Babbie.”
“Oh, I’m out of it,” explained Babbie. “Marie has a sore throat, and mother wanted to be read aloud to.”
“Well, the senator is only one of the people I’ve talked to,” put in Betty eagerly. “I’ve been in the steerage——”
“Oh, you lucky girl,” cried Madeline. “I tried to go yesterday and got turned down. How did you get past the guard? Do tell us all about it.”
So Betty “told,” saving the senator’s bill for a climax. At the end of the story Babbie declared that she simply must see the blue-eyed Irish baby, and Babe winked back the tears over the lonely English girl. While they were talking, some Harding girls of an older generation came up and made Madeline’s Dramatic Club pin an excuse for introducing themselves. Of course they heard about Betty’s visit to the steerage, and they were so interested that Madeline had an idea.
“All the passengers would like to help those poor people, I’m sure. Couldn’t we give an entertainment of some sort? There’s the captain, Babe. Go ask him if he’s willing.”
The captain assured Babe that “any show she wanted went on his boat,” the little gray-gowned actress, who had refused to appear at the ship’s concert, promised that she and her leading man would act a farce, the senator volunteered to canvass the steerage for somebody to dance an Irish jig, Babbie designed some dainty souvenir programs, and the other crowd of Harding girls arranged a “stunt number” that proved to be the star feature of the evening. Betty printed the tickets, and the senator sold them all at twenty-five cents “or over,” with astonishing financial results.
“That’s all right,” he said as he passed the money over to Betty. “There are three hundred first class passengers on this boat, but six of them are judges—they pay double—and five are colonels—it takes three tickets to get in a colonel.”
“And how many to get in a senator?” laughed Betty.