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Tutorial 6: Creating a Web Form
TRUE/FALSE
1. HTML supports tags that allow you to create forms and analyze the information submitted on forms.
ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397
2. The earliest and most common of the languages used for server-based programs are called CGI scripts,
written in a language called Perl.
ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML 398
3. PHP and ASP are popular languages widely used today for writing server-based programs.
4. The get method appends the form data to the end of the URL specified in the action attribute.
5. Typically, forms only contain form elements and no page elements.
6. Among the attributes included with the <form> tag are attributes that include information on how to
process the form.
7. A single Web page can contain at most one form.
8. One way of organizing a form is to group similar fields into field sets.
9. A password text box hides text entered by the user.
10. Access keys can be used with hyperlinks and are particularly helpful to users with impaired motor
skills who find it difficult to use a mouse.
11. Field sets are block elements that limit the numbers of characters the text box can hold.
12. HTML allows you to formally link a label with an associated text box element for scripting purposes.

13. Unlike a default field value, a placeholder is not stored in the data field and is not sent to the server as
a field value.
ANS: T PTS: 1 REF: HTML416
14. An access key is a single key that you type in conjunction with the Alt key for Macintosh users.
15. When the <input> tag is used to create radio buttons, the tag also creates labels for radio buttons.
ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML429
16. Users are limited to a single selection from a selection list.
17. Check boxes are selected by default.
18. A command button runs a command that affects the contents of the Web page or the Web browser
itself.
19. Data values do not need to be tested or validated before they are used.
20. One advantage of the current validation checks is that they occur after a user has completed and
submitted the form.
MODIFIED TRUE/FALSE
1. Input boxes are a form control element used for text and numerical entries. ____________________
2. Option lists are a form control element for long lists of options. ____________________
ANS: F, Selection
PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397
3. The earliest and most common server-based programs are CGI scripts written in a language called
Perl. ____________________

4. The get method sends form data in a separate data stream. ____________________
ANS: F, post method
5. The language used to create a server-based program depends on the Web server.
____________________
6. The <table> tag identifies the beginning of a form. ____________________
ANS: F, form
7. The <form> tag includes attributes that control how the form is processed. ____________________
8. To associate text with a control element, you can use the label element.. ____________________
9. When you link a label with an associated input box element, you use the name attribute of the field.
____________________
ANS: F, id
10. A placeholder is a numeric string that appears within the control element and provides users with
information about the kind of information accepted by the field. __________________
ANS: F, text
11. An access key is a single key that you type in conjunction with the Command key for Macintosh users,
to jump to one of the control elements in the form. ____________________
ANS: F, Control
12. A selection list is a list box that presents users with a group of possible field values for the data field.
____________________
13. Like selection list items, only one radio button can be selected at a time. ____________________

ANS: F, Unlike
14. A control element that allows extended text entries is the textarea element. ____________________
15. Input boxes with the number data type are displayed using a spinner control in which users click an up
or down arrow to increase or decrease the field value, respectively.____________________
MULTIPLE CHOICE
1. Information entered into a field is called the field ____.
a. index c. attribute
b. rating d. value
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397
2. Each control element in which the user can enter information is called a(n) ____.
a. field c. value
b. index d. area
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397
3. Text ____ are used for extended entries that can include several lines of text.
a. areas c. rosters
b. buttons d. matrices
4. Selection lists usually appear in a ____ box.
a. value list c. form
b. radio d. drop-down list

5. As shown in the accompanying figure, the form contains ____ elements, which are commonly used in
Web page forms.
a. control c. access
b. formula d. box
6. The item marked ____ in the accompanying figure is an input box.
a. 1 c. 4
b. 2 d. 6
7. The item marked ____ in the accompanying figure is a selection list.
a. 1 c. 3
b. 2 d. 6
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 425

8. The items marked 3 in the accompanying figure are ____ buttons.
a. check c. option
b. group d. cluster
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 431
9. The item marked 4 in the accompanying figure is a(n) ____ button.
a. report c. option
b. reset d. spinner control
10. The item marked 6 in the accompanying figure is a ____ area.
a. registration c. text
b. form d. list
11. The item marked 5 in the accompanying figure is a ____ box.
a. text c. check
b. field d. form
12. Option buttons are sometimes called ____ buttons.
a. group c. radio
b. cluster d. aggregate
13. You should check with your ISP or system administrator to find out what ____ are available and what
rights and privileges you have in working with them.
a. scripts c. passwords
b. access keys d. XMLs
14. CGI scripts can be written in which of the following languages?
a. TCP c. Perl
b. JavaScript d. Any of the above
15. Forms are created using the ____ element.
a. <field> c. <html>
b. <form> d. <input>
16. The ____ attribute of the <form> tag represents the older standard for identifying each form on the
page.
a. id c. name
b. identification d. what
17. The ____ attribute has two possible values: get and post.

a. value c. method
b. id d. name
18. ____ sets are used to organize form elements.
a. Option c. Text
b. Radio d. Field
19. HTML 4 supports ____ different input types.
a. 10 c. 16
b. 15 d. 17
20. If you do not include the type attribute in an <input> tag, the Web browser assumes that you want to
create a(n) ____.
a. check box c. option button
b. input box d. submit button
21. Which input type displays a browse button to locate and select a file?
a. type= “attach” c. type= “file”
b. type= “find” d. type= “browse”
22. Which input type creates a field that is not viewable on the form?
a. type= “conceal” c. type= “view”
b. type= “off” d. type= “hidden”
23. Which input type displays an inline image that can be clicked to perform an action from a script?
a. type= “image” c. type= “picture”
b. type= “inline” d. type= “action”
24. Which input type displays an input box that hides text entered by the user?
a. type= “hidden” c. type= “user”
b. type= “password” d. type= “hide”
25. When a form is submitted, the server receives the data in ____ pairs.
a. name/value c. id/value
b. label/name d. value/label
26. To create an input box for ____ entry, add the element <input type=”type” name=”name” id=”id” /> to
the web form, where type specifies the type of input control, rhe name attribute provides the name of
the field associated with the control element, and the id attribute identifies the control element itself.

a. numeric c. text
b. label d. character
27. When you link a label with an associated text element for scripting purposes, you must bind the label
to the ____ attribute of the field.
a. id c. label
b. name d. what
28. To associate a label with the control element with the id of "city", you would enter ____.
a. <label id="city"> c. <label element="city">
b. <label for="city"> d. <label associate="city">
29. Label elements are normally ____ elements.
a. inside c. inline
b. outline d. outside
30. The ____ style can be used to change label elements into block elements.
a. type:block c. display: block
b. format: block d. block: block
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 413 | HTML414
31. The placeholder automatically disappears as soon as a user selects the ____ box.
a. label c. text
b. input d. textarea
32. To set the number of options displayed at one time in the selection list, add the attribute_______,
a. selected = “selected” c. multiple=”multiple”
b. size=”value” d. select = “select”
33. To define a default field value, add the attribute ____.
a. size =”value” c. input =”value”
b. value=”value” d. value = “chars”
34. Another way you can specify the width is to use the ____ attribute.
a. size c. length
b. maximum d. characters
35. To avoid confusion, set the width either with _____ width style or the HTML size attribute, but not
both.
a. CIS c. CGI

b. CSS d. PHP
36. Many browsers include a(n) ________ feature that automatically fills in input form values if they are
based on previously filled out forms.
a. autocorrect c. grammar check
b. autocomplete d. spelling
37. To define a default value for a field, use the following syntax: ____.
a. <input field= “value” /> c. <input default= “value” />
b. <input main= “value” /> d. <input value= “value” />
38. Press the ____ key to move between input boxes.
a. Shift c. Ctrl
b. Tab d. Alt
39. You can specify an access key for an input element by using the ____ attribute.
a. shortcut c. accesskey
b. key d. keypress
40. The ________ automatically disappears as soon as a user selects the input box.
a. input box c. textarea
b. text box d. placeholder
41. ____ buttons can be placed into a group so that selecting one deselects all of the others.
a. Checkbox c. Command
b. Image d. Radio
42. To group option buttons so that selecting one deselects all of the others, you must make the ____
attribute the same.
a. name c. id
b. type d. value
43. To identify the specific options for option buttons, you use the ____ attribute.
a. name c. id
b. type d. value
44. To specify that an option button be already selected, you type ____.
a. checked="yes" c. checked="checked"
b. value="checked" d. value="yes"

45. A ____ should be used to provide visual indication that option buttons belong in the same group.
a. fieldset c. table
b. label d. value
46. In the general syntax for the <select> and <option> tags, each ____ tag represents an individual item in
the selection list.
a. <option> c. <index>
b. <item> d. <each>
47. By default, the ____ tag displays one option from the selection list, along with a list arrow to view
additional selection options.
a. <index> c. <option>
b. <select> d. <checked>
48. HTML allows you to organize selection lists into distinct groups called ____ groups.
a. option c. unique
b. selection d. category
49. You can change the number of options displayed in a selection list by modifying the ____ attribute.
a. display c. size
b. list d. number
50. When using the password data type, any information that a user enters will be displayed as a series of
____ or asterisks, protecting the information from prying eyes.
a. dashes
b. dots
c. ampersands
d. plus signs
51. For noncontiguous selections from a selection list on a PC, press and hold the ____ key while you
make your selections.
a. Ctrl c. Esc
b. Shift d. Alt
52. For a contiguous selection in a selection list, select the first item, press and hold the ____ key, and then
select the last item in the range.
a. Ctrl c. Esc
b. Shift d. Alt

53. ____ are used to check for the presence or absence of something.
a. Check boxes c. Group boxes
b. Option boxes d. Text boxes
54. To make a check box selected by default, you add ____.
a. selected="true" c. checked="checked"
b. selected="selected" d. checked="true"
55. The ____ attributes define the dimensions of a text area.
a. height and width c. top and bottom
b. rows and cols d. high and wide
56. In a text area, the default value of the wrap attribute is ____.
a. on c. soft
b. off d. hard
57. In a ____ wrap, information about where the text begins a new line is included with the data field
value.
a. soft c. off
b. hard d. on
58. When a user tabs through the form, the tab order will reflect the order of the items in the ____ file.
a. HTML c. CSS
b. CGI d. PHP
59. Typically, users navigate through a Web form using the _____ key, which moves the cursor
from one field to another in the order that the field tags are entered into the HTML file.
a. ALT c. SHIFT
b. TAB d. CTRL
60. For most browsers, if no value for the wrap attribute of a text area is specified, a value of ____ is used.
a. hard c. soft
b. off d. on
61. To create an action for a(n) ____ button, you have to write a script or program that runs automatically
when the button is clicked.
a. option c. group
b. radio d. command

62. To create a button that will allow a user to send the form data to the server, you use a type of ____.
a. command c. option
b. reset d. submit
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML457
63. To create a button that will clear the form fields, you use a type of ____.
a. command c. option
b. reset d. submit
64. The ____ control element is used to create a custom button.
a. command c. input
b. file d. button
65. Validation can occur after the data is sent to the server with _________.
a. client-side validation c. HTML validation
b. server-side validation d. HTML5 validation
66. A _____ is a concise description of a character pattern.
a. regular expression c. character string
b. regex d. both a and b
67. The ____ method of the <form> tag packages form data by appending it to the end of the URL
specified in the action attribute.
a. post c. put
b. get d. keep
68. The technique of immediate data validation and reporting of errors is known as _________.
a. online validation c. inline validation
b. regular expression d. immediate validation
69. ______ refers to the state in which an element has been clicked by the user, making it the active
control element on the form.
a. Cursor c. Focus
b. Insertion point d. Directive
70. The pseudo-class _____ matches check boxes or option buttons whose toggle states (checked or
unchecked) cannot be determined.
a. indeterminate c. invalid
b. checked d. required

Case-Base Critical Thinking Questions
Case 6-1
Oscar owns Oscar's Skateboard Shop. He wants to create a Web form to allow users to specify the type
of skateboards they would like to buy. This includes the make, model, type and color, and board
options. Oscar's skateboards come in Children, Young Adult, and Adult sizes. Oscar's skateboards
only come in color, pattern, and themes. He has over 25 makes and models of skateboards.
71. Since make and model are normally lists, Oscar should use a ____ tag to specify the lists.
a. <checkbox> c. <select>
b. <file> d. <command>
ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 422 TOP: Critical Thinking
72. Oscar should use ____ to allow users to select the skateboard type.
a. radio buttons c. command buttons
b. check boxes d. group boxes
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437 TOP: Critical Thinking
73. For the color, Oscar should most likely use ___.
a. radio buttons c. command buttons
b. check boxes d. group boxes
ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429 TOP: Critical Thinking
Case-Based Critical Thinking Questions
Case 6-2
Wyona, owner of Wyona’s Hat Designs, desires to have a Web site built for customers to order
custom-made hats. They can pick from straw, leather, and material hat collections. Customers can
specify one of their existing patterns, which include about 50 designs. They can also choose a custom
pattern instead and then provide information about the pattern they want for Wyona to custom create.
74. In order to provide customers plenty of room to enter the information for a custom pattern, which type
of field should Wyona provide for the user?
a. textarea c. text
b. radio d. select
75. Wyona wants to separate the different options for straw, leather and material. Which element can she
use to create these groups?
a. check box c. radio
b. select d. fieldset
ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 430 TOP: Critical Thinking
76. Wyona wants to label each group. Which element would be the best for her to use?
a. label c. legend
b. caption d. text

77. For her address she wants to make sure the zipcode is set to 5 characters only. Which attribute of a text
box will allow her to do this?
a. maxlength c. length
b. size d. characters
Case-Based Critical Thinking Questions
Case 6-3
Larry has just bought an online Web hosting solution from a popular ISP. He knows the ISP provides
some scripts to allow people to create logon pages for their Web site if they want to have a
password-protected blog, for example. Larry wants to create such a page for his blog about video
games.
78. Before Larry builds his form, which of the following should he consult concerning required fields?
a. his ISP c. his desired form design
b. his other Web pages d. none of the above
79. Which element will Larry most likely use to create the password element?
a. select c. textarea
b. input d. option
ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405 TOP: Critical Thinking
80. What type of method will Larry most likely be using for submitting his form data?
a. get c. post
b. submit d. reset
COMPLETION
1. Information entered into a field is called the field ____________________.
ANS: value
2. CGI stands for ____________________.
ANS: Common Gateway Interface
3. A(n) ____________________ is a box placed around a set of fields that indicates that they belong to a
common group.
ANS:
fieldset
field set

4. The input type=“____________________” displays an option button.
ANS: radio
5. The input type=“____________________” displays a button that submits the form when clicked.
ANS: submit
6. A(n) ____________________ field is an input box in which the characters typed by the user are
displayed as bullets or asterisks.
ANS: password
7. If most people enter the same value into a field, it may make sense to define a(n)
____________________ value for a field.
ANS: default
8. ____________________ buttons are similar to selection lists in that they display a list of choices from
which a user makes a selection.
ANS:
Option
Radio
9. Selection lists are used for long lists of options, usually appearing in a(n) ____________________ list
box.
ANS:
drop-down
drop down
10. Adding the ____________________ attribute to the <select> tag allows multiple selections from a list.
ANS: multiple
11. ____________________ boxes specify an item as either present or absent.

ANS: Check
12. Web page designers can use tab ____________________ numbers in their forms without worrying
about older browsers that do not support this new standard.
ANS: index
13. Form ____________________ are control elements that can be clicked to start processing a form.
ANS: buttons
14. A(n) ____________________ button is created using the <input> tag as follows: <input type=“button”
value=“text” />.
ANS: command
15. A(n) ____________________ button is a button that submits the form to the CGI script for processing.
ANS: submit
16. A(n) ____________________ button resets the form to its original values.
ANS: reset
17. Whenever possible, you should supplement your server-side validation with ______ validation to
reduce the workload on the server.
ANS: client-side
18. A(n) ____________________ field is added to the form but not displayed in the Web page.
ANS: hidden
19. The _________ attribute can be used only with input boxes that store text.
ANS: pattern

20. Pseudo-Class ______ controls elements whose values fail validation tests.
ANS: in-range
MATCHING
Identify the letter of the choice that best matches the phrase or definition.
a. input boxes g. form buttons
b. selection lists h. fields
c. option buttons i. get
d. check boxes j. enctype
e. field sets k. option groups
f. text areas l. hidden
1. Used to specify an item as either present or absent
2. Basic element storing each piece of form information
3. Used to select a single option from a predefined list
4. Can be clicked to start processing the form
5. Used for long lists of options
6. Used for extended entries that can include several lines of text
7. Used to organize form elements
8. Can be used to create an email field that is part of your form but not displayed
9. Can be used to group items on a drop-down list
10. Used to append form data to a URL
11. Used to indicate what type of data a form is submitting
12. Used for text and numerical entries
1. ANS: D PTS: 1 REF: HTML 437
2. ANS: H PTS: 1 REF: HTML 397
3. ANS: C PTS: 1 REF: HTML 429
4. ANS: G PTS: 1 REF: HTML 456
5. ANS: B PTS: 1 REF: HTML 422
6. ANS: F PTS: 1 REF: HTML 434
7. ANS: E PTS: 1 REF: HTML 402
8. ANS: L PTS: 1 REF: HTML 405
9. ANS: K PTS: 1 REF: HTML 430
10. ANS: I PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400
11. ANS: J PTS: 1 REF: HTML 400
12. ANS: A PTS: 1 REF: HTML 404
ESSAY
1. What is the syntax for creating an option group?
ANS:
<select attributes>
<optgroup label= “label1”>
<option>item1a</option>

<option>item2a</option>
...
</optgroup>
<optgroup label= “label2”>
<option>item1b</option>
<option>item2b</option>
...
</optgroup>
...
</select>
PTS: 1 REF: HTML 428 TOP: Critical Thinking
2. Explain how each of the three wrap attribute values of text areas work.
ANS:
With the wrap= “off” value, all the text is displayed on a single line, scrolling to the left if the text
extends past the width of the box. Text goes to the next row in the box only if the Enter key is pressed.
The text is sent to the CGI script in a single line. With the wrap= “soft” value, text wraps automatically
to the next row when it extends beyond the width of the text box. The text is still sent to the CGI script
in a single line without any information about how the text was wrapped within the text box. With the
wrap= “hard” value, text wraps automatically to the next row when it extends beyond the width of the
text box. When the text is sent to the CGI script, the line-wrapping information is included, allowing
the CGI script to work with the text exactly as it appears in the text box.
3. Describe submit and reset buttons and show the syntax for the two buttons.
ANS:
The two other kinds of form buttons are submit and reset buttons. A submit button
submits a form to the server for processing when clicked. Clicking a reset button resets
the form, changing all field values to their original default values and deleting any values
that a user might have entered into the form. The syntax for creating these two buttons is
<input type=? ”submit? ” value=? ”text? ” />
<input type=? ”reset? ” value=? ”text? ” />
where once again the value attribute defines the text that appears on the button.

Another Random Scribd Document
with Unrelated Content

went forth with a confident smile to meet the man who, for weary
months, was to fill a large part of her life.
At sight of her Mr. Dunne, schooled though he was in self-
restraint, barely suppressed a groan of pained surprise. That garb
which had so pleased Darcy, however much it may have been an
inspiration to her, was a revelation to the dismayed eyes of her
instructor. To Gloria Greene, one of the few people with whom he
forgot his reticence, he afterwards made his little plaint.
“If they’re fat, I can sweat ’em. If they’re skinny, I can pad ’em
with muscle. But this squab, she’s fat and skinny all in the wrong
places.”
Half hopeful that he might discover some disabling symptom, he
tested her heart and her breathing. All was normal. He noted her
yellowish eyes, her sallow skin, the beginning of a fold under her
chin, the slackness of her posture.
“How old are yah?” he demanded.
“Just twenty-one.”
“Grmph!” barked Mr. Dunne, in a tone which unflatteringly
suggested surprise, but also relief. “Well we gotta getta work.”
How pleasurable was that hour’s exercise to Darcy! With what
delight did her unforeboding spirit take to the ways of a hardy
athleticism! ‘Never could she have imagined it so easy. No sooner
was she weary of one kind of a trial, dumb-bells, Indian-clubs, or
pulleys, than, when her breath began to come short, the watchful
instructor stopped her and, after a rest, set her to something else.
Her skin pricked and glowed beneath the close but unrestricting suit.
Little drops of moisture came out on her face and were gayly
brushed away. She could feel herself breathing deeper, her blood
running faster and fuller in her veins, her muscles suppling along the
bones. She hurled the medicine-ball with fervor. She attacked the
punch-ing-bag with ferocity. She swung at the elusive little hand-ball
with a violence unhampered by any sense of direction. From time to
time she threw a glance, hopefully inviting approval, at the stonily
watchful visage of Mr. Andy Dunne.

The approval did not manifest itself. Darcy, had she but known it,
was going through that schedule of the mildest type known
derisively to Andy’s academy as “the consumptive’s stunt.” At the
conclusion of a trot three times around the room which she
conceived herself as performing with a light and springy step (“like a
three-legged goat” was Mr. Dunne’s mental comparison), that
gentleman said, “Nuff,” a word which later was to rank in his pupil’s
consciousness as the one assuaging thing in an agonized world. The
regulation first-day’s-end catechism then took place.
“How d’yah feel?”
“Fine!”
“’s good! Lame?”
“Not a bit.”
“Yah’ll stiffen up later. Don’t let it bother yah. Hot bath in the
morning.”
“All right.”
“Same time day after tomorra.” He busied himself replacing the
deranged apparatus. “How’s the appetite?” he asked carelessly.
“It hasn’t been so very good.”
“No? Try it on this.”
“Diet for Miss D. Cole,” was typed across the top of a meager-
looking list of edibles and what that young lady would have
considered inedibles, which she found herself conning.
“Is that all?” she inquired dismally.
“Take as much as yah want of it,” returned Mr. Dunne generously.
“But—I mean—it doesn’t look very nice.”
“The Big Feller trained on it,” observed the other with an air of
finality. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Why—why—it’s—well—monotonous,” explained the girl. “There
isn’t a sweet thing in it. No cakes. No desserts. Not even ice-cream.
Why can’t I have a little sweets?”

“Because,” answered Mr. Dunne, “yah got creases in your
stomach.”
Darcy started. “No! Have I?” she asked, vaguely alarmed as to
what profound digestive catastrophe that might portend.
“Well, haven’t yah? About there—and there—and prob’ly there.”
Mr. Dunne drew an illustrative and stubby forefinger thrice vertically
across his own flat abdomen. “Look to-night and yah’ll see ’em.”
“Oh!” gasped Darcy, turning fiery red, for it is one of our
paradoxical conventions that a young lady may discuss the inside of
her stomach without shame, but not the outside.
Mr. Dunne regarded the blush with disfavor. “Look-a-here,” he said
bluntly. “Yah, needn’t get rattled.”
“But—I—I—didn’t—”
“Cut the school-girl stuff. Yah’r my pupil. I’m yahr trainer. That’s all
there is to it, if we’re going to get along comfortable. Get me?”
“Yes,” said Darcy. “I won’t be silly again. And I’ll try and mind the
diet.”
Vastly to her surprise and gratification, the neophyte arose on the
following morning without severe symptoms of lameness. Here and
there an unsuspected muscle had awakened to life and to mild
protest over the resurrection. But on the whole Darcy felt none the
worse for her experience. She began to surmise that she was one of
that physically blessed class, a born athlete. If beauty, vigor, and
health were to be achieved at no harder a price than this, they were
almost like a gift of the good fairies. The only unusual phenomena
she observed as a result of her introspection were a lack of interest
in her food, which she set down to the discredit of the diet, and a
tendency to fall asleep over her work. She went to bed early that
night, quite looking forward to the morrow’s exercise.
Nature has a stock practical joke which she plays on the physically
negligent when they begin training. Instead of inflicting muscular
remorse on the morning after, she lets the bill run for another
twenty-four hours and then pounces upon the victim with an
astounding accumulation of painful arrears. Opening her eyes on

that second day after Mr. Dunne’s mild but sufficient schedule—the
one muscular movement she was able to make without acute agony
—Darcy became cognizant that every hinge in her body had rusted.
She attempted to swing her legs out of bed, and stuck, with her feet
projecting out from the clothes, paralyzed and groaning. From the
bedroom next to Darcy’s alcove, Helen Barrett heard the sounds of
lamentation and tottered drowsily in.
“What ever is the matter, Darcy?”
“I can’t get up” moaned the victim.
“What is it? Are you ill?”
“No! No! I’m all right. Only—”
“Get your legs back in bed.” The kindly Helen thrust back the
protruding limbs, thereby wringing from the sufferer a muffled shriek
which brought Maud Raines to the scene.
“It’s rheumatism, I think,” explained Helen to the newcomer. “Or
else paralysis.”
“It isn’t,” denied Darcy indignantly.
“What is it, then?”
Racked by all manner of darting pains and convulsive cramps,
Darcy began the cautious process of emerging from bed. “Do be
good—ugh!” she implored. “And don’t—ooch!—ask questions—and
draw me a boiling hot bath—ow-w-w!—and help me into it—oh-h-h-
h—dear!”
Greatly wondering they followed the sufferer’s directions, got her
duly en-tubbed, and ensconced themselves outside the door, which
they left carefully ajar for explanations. All they got for this
maneuver was an avowal of the bather’s firm intention of spending
the rest of the day in the mollifying water.
“If you want to be really nice,” she added, “you might bring my
coffee and rolls to me here.”
“Well, really!” said Maud indignantly, for this was a reversal of the
normal order of things in Bachelor-Girls’ Hall. As the homely member
of an otherwise attractive trio, Darcy had been, by common consent,

constituted the meek and unprotesting servitor of the other two.
Thus do relics of Orientalism persist among the most independent
race of women known to history.
Darcy accepted the rebuff. “It doesn’t matter,” said she, with a
quaver of self-pity. “I can’t have coffee. I can’t have hot rolls. I can’t
have anything.”
Her two mates exchanged glances. “Darcy, you’ve got to see a
doctor.”
“I haven’t! I won’t!”
“But if you can’t move and can’t eat—”
“I’m much better now. Really I am,” declared the other, alarmed at
the threat of a physician, who might suspect the truth and give her
away to the others. “I’m going to dress.” Which she did, at the price
of untold pangs. Breakfast passed in a succession of questioning
silences and suspicious glances, but Darcy guarded her tongue. To
reveal the facts and what lay behind them would be only to invite
discouragement and dissuasion if not actual ridicule. After the frugal
and tasteless ordeal of hominy without sugar, followed by one egg
without butter, she limped into the front room and set herself
doggedly to the elaboration of a new design for B. Riegel & Sons.
Notwithstanding the legacy, she could not afford to neglect the
economic side of life whilst fostering the physical. Her special course
in the development of charm, via the muscle-and-sinew route, she
perceived, was going to take longer than she had foreseen. Already
she felt that the schedule ought to be radically relaxed. Her unfitness
to take the lesson set for that afternoon was obvious. Next week,
perhaps—’though, on the whole, she inclined to the belief that she
should have about ten days to recuperate.
She would write to Mr. Dunne and explain. No; she would
telephone him. Better still, she would go up to the Academy of
Tortures in person and exhibit to the proprietor’s remorseful eyes the
piteous wreck which he had made of her blithe young girlhood.
She went. Mr. Andy Dunne regarded the piteous wreck without
outward and visible signs of distress.

“Yah got five minutes,” he remarked emotionlessly, glancing at the
clock.
“I can’t possibly go on to-day,” said Darcy firmly.
“No?”
“Every bone in my body creaks. I haven’t got a muscle that isn’t
sore. I ache in places that I didn’t even know I had. Why, Mr.
Dunne,” she declared impressively, as a conclusion to the painful
inventory, “if I tried to go through those exercises again to-day, I’d
die!”
“Grmph!” said Mr. Dunne, indicating that he was unimpressed.
“I c-c-c-can’t do it and I won’t!” said Darcy, like a very naughty
child.
“Yah paid me three hundr’n sixty dollars, didn’t yah?”
“Yes,” replied Darcy, her heart sinking, at the recollection of the
sum which she had invested in assorted agonies.
“Did yah think that was going to buy yah what yah’r after?”
Darcy gulped dismally.
“It ain’t. Money can’t buy it. Yah gotta have gu—grit.” Mr. Dunne
achieved the timely amendment in the middle of the stronger
qualification.
Darcy’s mind went back to Gloria Greene’s preachment upon the
text of “grit”: “You don’t know what the word means, yet.”
Apparently she was in a fair way to find out.
“Two minutes gone,” announced the trainer’s inexorable voice.
How she did it she never knew. But under impulsion of the sterner
will, she got into her gymnasium suit and was on the floor only three
minutes past the hour. The apparatus which she had at first
encountered with so much interest and curiosity now had a sinister
effect of lying in wait like the implements of a dentist’s office. She
speculated, with a shrinking of her whole frame, upon which one
would be selected as the agency of the initial agony. Giving them not
so much as a look, Mr. Andy Dunne led her to a large, rough mat
and bade her stretch out on her back.

“Lift the left foot in the air,” he directed.
Darcy did so, with caution.
“Higher!” said Mr. Dunne.
“Oo-yee!” lamented Darcy.
“Back. Lift the right foot in the air.”
Darcy obeyed without enthusiasm.
“Higher!” said Mr. Dunne.
“Ow-wow!” mourned Darcy.
“Back. Lift both feet in the air.”
“I can’t!” said Darcy.
“Yah gotta!” said Mr. Dunne.
Two wavering, quivering legs rose slowly from the mat, attained
an angle of forty-five degrees, and dropped back to earth with a
thud. Their owner had been forcibly reminded of the three creases in
her stomach by the fact that they had unanimously set to writhing
and grinding upon each other in fiery convolutions of protest,
resultant upon the unwonted angle of the legs.
“Higher!” commanded the pitiless Mr. Dunne.
“Can’t!”
“Gotta!”
With a spasmodic heave, the victim attained perhaps fifty degrees
of elevation, and straightened out, gasping. Next her instructor had
her sit up erect from a flat position, without aid from hands or
elbows, whereat all the muscles in her back, thighs, and abdomen,
hitherto unawakened, roused themselves and yelled in chorus. Then
he had her repeat the whole devastating process from the first
before he spoke the word of reprieve.
“Nuff!”
Darcy rolled over on her face and lay panting. “How d’ yah feel?”
“Awful!” gasped Darcy.
“Still a bit stiff?”

“A bit! Oh-h-h-h!”
“Then we’ll do it all again,” said Mr. Dunne cheerfully. “Nothin’ like
light exercise to loosen up the human frame.”
For that “light” Darcy could cheerfully have slain him. Nobody
since the world began, she felt convinced, neither gladiator of the
classic arena nor the mighty John L. himself, had ever undergone
such a fearsome grilling and lived. And now there was more to
come. Over the twistings and turnings, the arm-flexures, the
hoppings and skippings, the tingling of the outraged muscles, the
panting of the overtaxed lungs, let us draw a kindly curtain.
When the horrid hour was over, Darcy in her cold shower felt
numb. Whether she could ever manage to get home on her own
disjointed feet seemed doubtful. But she did. She went to bed at
eight o’clock that night, having eaten almost nothing, in the firm
conviction that she never would be able to get up in the morning
without help, and probably not with it!
Sleep such as she had not known in years submerged her. Roused
late by her companions, she moved first an arm, then a leg,
tentatively. No penalty attached to the experiment. With a low,
anticipatory groan she sat up slowly in bed. The groan was a case of
crying before she was hurt. She began to feel herself cautiously all
over. Her skin was a little tender to the touch, and she noted with
interest that the blood ran impetuously to whatever spot on the
surface her exploring fingers pressed. But of that crippling lameness,
that feeling of the whole bodily mechanism being racked and rusted,
there remained only a trace. In its place was left a new variety of
pang which Darcy pleasantly identified. She was ravenously hungry.
Maud Raines observed to Helen Barrett after breakfast that any
one who could bolt plain oatmeal the way Darcy did must have the
appetite of a pig, and no wonder she was fat and slobby. But Andy
Dunne, calling up Gloria to report progress, thus delivered his
opinion:
“You know that squab you sent me, Miss Greene?”
“Yes.”

“She wanted to quit.”
“No! Did she do it?”
“I bluffed her out of it. And say, Miss Greene!”
“Yes, Andy.”
“There may be something to that kid.”
“Glad you think so.”
Said Andy Dunne, expert on the human race slowly, consideringly,
and more prophetically than he knew:
“I kinda think there’s fighting stuff some-wheres under that fat.”

H
CHAPTER VI
AD Andy Dunne’s surmise been laid before Darcy, it might
have brought sorely needed encouragement to her soul as
the regenerative process went on. True she had presently
passed the first crisis which athletic regimen develops for the
untrained, and which is purely muscular. She no longer swung to and
fro, a helpless pendulum, between the agonies of apprehension and
the anguish of action. The steady exercise was telling in so far as
her muscles were concerned; she had still to face the test of
discipline. In this second and sterner crisis, Andy Dunne could help
her but little. It was a question of her own power of will, a will
grown slack and flabby from lack of exercise. Ahead of her loomed,
only dimly discerned as yet, the ordeal of strenuous monotony; the
deadly-dull, prolonged grind wherein endurance, as it hardens, is
subjected to a constantly harsher strain, until the soul revolts as, in
the earlier stage, the body had rebelled.
A subject like Gloria Greene, high and fine of spirit, the sage Mr.
Dunne could have eased through the difficult phase by appeals to
her pride and to the sense of partnership which the successful
trainer must establish between himself and his pupil. With Darcy this
was impracticable because Andy Dunne, as he would have admitted
with a regretful grin, was “in wrong.” Darcy enthusiastically hated
him.
At first sight she had estimated him as a stern spirit. Through
successive changes that reckoning had been altered to “harsh,” then
“brutal,” and now “Satanic.” Gloria’s judgment of her note of
introduction as “a commutation ticket to Hades, first class,” was
amply borne out.

Professionally Mr. Dunne’s discourse tended ever to the hortatory
and corrective. He was a master of the verbal rowel.
“Keep it up!”
“Again!”
“Ah-h-h, put some punch in it!”
“Yah ain’t haff trying!”
“Go wan! Yah gotta do better’n’at!” And, occasionally, “Rotten!”
Worse still was a manner he had of regarding her with an
expression of mild and regretful wonder whilst giving voice to his
bulldoggish “Grmph!” in a tone indicating only too plainly that never
before was conscientious trainer so bored and afflicted with such an
utterly incompetent, inefficient, and generally hopeless subject as
the daily withering Darcy.
In lighter moments he would regale her with reminiscences of the
Big Feller and his eccentricities in and insubordinations under
training, while Darcy would lie, panting and spent, on the hard floor,
wondering regretfully why the Big Feller hadn’t killed Mr. Dunne
when opportunities must have been so plentiful. Then, just as her
labored breathing would begin to ease, the taskmaster in Mr. Dunne
would awaken, the call “Time” would sound like doom to her ears,
and she would set to it again, arching on her back, rolling on her
stomach (where the three creases were beginning to flatten),
yanking at overweighted pulleys, interminably skipping a loathly
rope, standing up like a dumb ten-pin before the ponderous
medicine-ball which Mr. Dunne hurled at her, punching at an elusive
and too often vengeful bag, rowing an imaginary boat against wind,
wave, and every dictate of her weary body, and finally running silly
circles around the room like a demented cat, until the monitor
uttered the one, lone word of pity in his inquisitorial vocabulary:
“Nuff!”
Had all this deep-wrung sweat of brow and soul produced any
definable effect, Darcy could have borne it with a resigned spirit. It
didn’t. Four times a week she went through the hideous grind, and
nothing happened. Each night she went to bed early and after

profound sleep had to get up out of the cuddly warmth into a
shudderingly cold bath—and nothing happened. She gave up the
before-dinner cocktail and with it what little zest she had for her
deadly plain diet—and nothing happened. She denied her sweet
tooth so much as one little bite of candy—oh, but that was a bitter
deprivation—and nothing happened. To her regimen at the
gymnasium she added a stint of simple but violent house exercises
on off days—and nothing happened. Life, which she had supposed,
in her first flush of hopeful enthusiasm for the new régime, would be
one grand, sweet song, was, in fact, one petty, sour discord—
wherein nothing happened. This was quite right and logical, had
Darcy but known it. Layers of fat, physical and moral, accumulated
through years of self-coddling, are not worked off in a week or a
month.
There came a day when something did happen. There always
does. It was not of that order of occurrences which can be foreseen
by the expert eye. It seldom is. Andy Dunne, honestly and simply
intent on earning his money, had been unusually exigent. Besides,
Darcy had a nail in her shoe. Besides, Mr. Riegel had been curtly
critical of her latest and most original design as “new-fangled.”
Besides, Maud was becoming satirically curious as to where she was
spending so many afternoons. Besides, it was a rotten day. There
was no light on earth or in heaven!
“What’s the use of it all, anyway!” thought Darcy to herself, for
perhaps the fiftieth time, but rather more fervently than before.
As if in exasperation of her agnostic mood, the preceptor, in the
half-time intermission, had suggested not less, but more work!
“Yah’r gettin’ stale,” observed Mr. Dunne, which Darcy thought a
hopeful beginning.
“I feel so,” she said.
“There’s a clock,” Mr. Dunne informed her, “at Fifty-Ninth and
Eighth.”
Darcy waited.

“There’s another at a Hundred’n Tenth and Seventh,” pursued the
chronometrical Mr. Dunne, and fell into calculating thought.
Darcy waited again.
“Yah leave Fifty-Ninth at 4.20 p.m.”
“When?”
“Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
“Oh!” said Darcy blankly.
“And yah get to a Hundred’n-Tenth in time to hear that clock strike
5.”
“What! Walk? Nearly three miles in forty minutes?”
“No,” said Mr. Dunne thoughtfully.
“Then, how—”
“Yah’d better run part way, or yah won’t make it on time.”
“You want to kill me!” declared the petulant and self-pitying Darcy.
“Grmph!” said Mr. Dunne.
“Suppose it rains?” put forth Darcy desperately.
“Then yah’ll get wet,” was Mr. Dunne’s reasonable answer.
“And catch my death riding back in the bus.”
“Don’t ride. Walk. I’m giving this to yah for fresh air.”
“But Mr. Dunne—”
“Time!”
It may have been this fresh grievance which lay heavy upon
Darcy’s chest, clogging her breathing and slowing her suppled
muscles. She was conscious of doing less well than usual—and of
not caring, either! The medicine-ball was heavier and more unwieldy
than ever. The punching-bag, instinct with a demoniac vitality, came
back at her on a new schedule and bumped her nose violently, a
mortifying incident which had not occurred since the first week. The
despicable little hand-ball, propelled by her trainer, bounded just a
fraction of an inch out of her straining reach, and when she did hit
it, felt as soggy as sand and as hard as rock and raised stone-bruises
on her hands. She even pinched her thumb in the rowing-machine,

which is the zenith of inexpertness. With every fresh mishap she
became more self-piteous and resentful and reckless. Andy, the
Experienced, would have ascribed all this to that common if obscure
phenomenon, an “off day,” familiar to every professor whether of
integral calculus or the high trapeze. Then the dreadful thing
happened, and he revised his opinion.
The last, and therefore worst, five minutes of the grind had come.
Darcy lay on the mat going through the loathed body-and-limb-lifting
while Andy Dunne exhorted her to speed up. “Now the legs. Come
on. Hup!”
Something in Darcy went on strike.
“Can’t,” she said.
“Grmph! What’s matter?”
“Won’t!” said Darcy.
From the corner of a hot and rebellious eye she could see
overspreading her trainer’s face that familiar expression of
contemptuous and weary patience. Anything else she could have
stood. But that—that was the spark that fired the powder. Stooping
over, the trainer laid hold, none too gently, on one inert heel.
Heaven and earth reversed themselves for Mr. Andy Dunne. Also
day and night, for a galaxy of stars appeared and circulated before
his mazed eyes. The walls and the ceiling joined in the whirl, to
which an end was set by the impact of the floor against the back of
his head. For one brief, sweet, romantic moment Andy Dunne was
back in the training-ring with the Big Feller and that venerated and
mulish right had landed one on his jaw. But why, oh, why, should the
mighty John L. thereupon burst into hysterical sobbing? And if it
wasn’t the Big Feller, who was it making those grievous noises?
Mr. Dunne sat up, viewed a huddled, girlish form trying
unsuccessfully to burrow headforemost out of sight in the hard mat,
and came to a realization of the awful fact. With all the force of her
newly acquired leg muscles, the meek Miss Cole had landed a
galvanic kick on his unprotected chin. For a moment he stared in
stupefaction. Then he arose and went quietly forth into his own

place, where he sat on a chair and rubbed his chin and thought, and
presently began to chuckle, and kept it up until the chuckle grew
into a laugh which shook his tough frame more violently than had
the unexpected assault.
“Well, I am d——d!” said Mr. Dunne. “The little son-of-a-gun!”
Meanwhile Darcy lay curled up like a quaking armadillo. Probably
Andy Dunne would kill her. She didn’t much care. Life wasn’t worth
living, anyhow. She was through. The one pleasant impression of her
whole disastrous gymnasium experience was the impact of her heel
against that contemptuous chin.
She opened one eye. Andy Dunne was not where he should have
landed as the result of the revolution which he had been performing
when he whirled from her view. She opened the other eye. Andy
Dunne was not anywhere. He had vanished into nothingness.
With all the sensation of a criminal, Darcy rose, dressed, and fled.
She fled straight to Gloria Greene. That industrious person was, as
usual, at work, and as usual found time to hear Darcy’s troubles.
What she heard was gaspy and fragmentary.
“Gloria, I’ve done an awful thing!”
“What? Out with it,” commanded the actress.
“I ki-ki-ki—I can’t tell you,” gulped Darcy. “Mr. Dunne—I mean, I
ki-ki-ki—”
“Yes,” encouraged Gloria. “What awful thing have you done to
Andy Dunne? Kissed him?”
“No! Worse.”
“Oh! You ki-ki-killed him, I suppose,” twinkled Gloria.
“I don’t know. I hope so. I ki-ki-kicked him. I kicked him good!”
“Darcy! Where?”
“On the chin.”
“What did he do?”
“Disappeared.”
“Do I understand that you kicked him into microscopical pieces?”

“Don’t laugh at me, Gloria. It’s very, very serious.”
“It sounds so.”
“I’m done with it. Forever.”
“Done with what?”
“The gymnasium. The diet. Andy Dunne. Everything.”
“Oh, no, you’re not.”
“I am! I am! I yam!” declared Darcy with progressive petulance.
“I’ve been torturing myself for nothing. It hasn’t made a bit of
difference. Look at me!”
Gloria looked and with difficulty concealed a smile of satisfaction.
For, to her expert eyes, there was a difference, a marked difference,
still submerged but obvious, beneath the surface, in movements
which, formerly sluggish, were now brisk and supple, in a clear eye,
and a skin which seemed to fit on the flesh where before it had
sagged.
“How did you get up here?” inquired Gloria abruptly.
“Ran.”
“Up the whole four flights? The elevator is working.”
“D——n the elevator!” said the outrageous Darcy.
“A few weeks ago you were damning it because it wouldn’t carry
up your lazy body. Isn’t there a difference now?”
“I don’t care; it isn’t the difference I want. I want to look like
something. Gloria, I’m desperate.”
“No, child. That isn’t despair. It’s temper.”
“It’s not.”
“Go back to Andy’s and work it off.”
“I wont!”
“Very well.” With a sigh for her interrupted task, Gloria selected a
hat, set it carefully upon her splendid hair and pinned it in place.
“You’ll excuse me, won’t you, my dear?” she added in tones which
aroused her visitor’s alarmed suspicions.
“Where are you going? To see Mr. Dunne?”

“Not at all.”
Darcy’s misgivings livened into something like terror.
“Where, then?”
“To see Maud and Helen.”
“What for?”
“To recount to them the authentic and interesting history of Sir
Montrose Veyze, Bart., hand-picked fiancé, of—”
“Gloria! You wouldn’t be so base!”
“I would be just that base,” returned the other in the measured
tones of judgment. “But I’ll give you a respite until your next training
day. When is it?”
“Day after to-morrow,” answered Darcy faintly.
“If you aren’t at Andy’s then to answer to the call of time, I’ll tell
the whole thing to the two fiancées with whatever extra details my
imagination can provide.”
Whereupon Darcy burst into tumultuous weeping, declared that
she hadn’t a friend in the world, and didn’t care, anyway, because
she wished she was dead, and went forth of that unsympathetic spot
with the air and expression of one spurning earth’s vanities and
deceptions forever. Being wise in her generation and kind, Gloria
knew that the girl would go back to her martyrdom. So she called up
Andy Dunne for a conference, which concluded with this sage advice
from her to him:
“This is the appointed time, Andy. When she comes back, put the
screws on hard. She’ll go through. If she doesn’t, let me know.”
No scapegrace of school, led back from truancy after some
especially nefarious project, ever wore a face of more tremulous
abasement than Miss Darcy Cole, returning to her faithful trainer
whom she had kicked in the jaw. As he entered the gymnasium a
strip of court-plaster on the curve of his chin caught her fascinated
attention and for the moment evicted from her mind the careful
apology which she had formulated. Before she could recapture it,
the opportunity was gone. “Time!” barked Mr. Dunne.

The day’s work was on.
Such an ordeal as Darcy underwent in consequence of Gloria’s
advice, few of Mr. Dunne’s pupils other than professional athletes
would have been called upon to endure, a fact which might have
helped her had she known it. Not knowing it, she won through that
violent hour on sheer grit. At the trainer’s final “Nuff,” she contrived
to smile, but she couldn’t quite manage to walk off the floor. She sat
down upon a convenient medicine-ball and waited for the dimness to
clear. A hand fell on her shoulder and rested there with an
indefinable pressure of fellowship. She looked up to see the
taskmaster standing above her.
“Say, kid,” he began. “Yah are a kid, ainche?” he broke off, a little
doubtfully.
“I’m going—on—twenty-two,” panted Darcy.
“Yeh, I’d figure yah about there—now. Well, I’m an old man; old
enough for the father stuff. And I wanta tell yah something. I like
yah. D’ yah know why I like yah?”
Darcy, with brightening eye, shook her head.
“Because yah’r game,” said Mr. Andy Dunne.
A voice within Darcy’s heart burst into song. For the first time in
her life she had been praised to the limit of a fellow being’s
measure. For gameness, as she well knew, was the ultimate virtue
to the athlete mind. The Big Feller had been game, even in his
downfall; it was that, over and above all his victories, which had
enshrined him in Andy Dunne’s and thousands of other stout and
inexpressive hearts.
Her trainer had paid her his finest compliment.
“Yah’r game,” he repeated. “I dunno exactly what yah’r out after,
but I’m backin’ yah to get it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dunne,” said Darcy gratefully.
“Grmph!” retorted that gentleman. “Cut the Mister. Andy, to you.”
“Thank you, Andy,” said the recipient of the accolade.

T
CHAPTER VII
“Rum-tu m-tu m-tu m-tu m-tu m-tiddle!”
HE voice sounded, fresh and brisk from behind the portals of
the Fifty-Sixth Street eyrie. It was followed by a rapid
succession of floppish noises which fell strangely upon the
ears of Miss Maud Raines and Miss Helen Barrett, panting after their
long ascent, outside the door. They had returned from a shopping
tour at the unaccustomed hour of three when Darcy usually could
rely upon having the place to herself.
“Isn’t Darcy the gay young sprite!” said Helen as the song burst
forth again.
“Flip-flop, flippity-floppity-flub” sounded in progression across the
living-room floor.
The two fiancées looked at each other in bewilderment.
“What on earth!” said Maud Raines.
Again the voice was uplifted, in familiar melody, gemmed with
words less familiar:
“Ru m-tu m-tu m-tu m-tu m-tu m-tiddle,
I have rolled ten pounds from off my middle.
By rolling on the floor, (Flip! Flop!)
As I told you before,
Behind!
Behind!
Before!” (Floppity-flop!)
“I do believe she’s doing it,” whispered Helen in awed accents.
The voice, with its strange accompaniments, resumed:

“Ru m-tu m-tu m-tum-tu m-tu m-tiddle,
I’ll roll twenty pounds from off my middle.
I have done it before. (Floppity-flop! Thump!)
I can do it some more!” (Whoof!)
By this time Maud’s key, silently inserted in the spring lock, had
made connections. She threw the door open. Darcy, giving an
imitation of a steam roller in full career toward the two entrants, was
startled into a cry. She came to her feet with a bound, without
pausing to touch so much as a finger to the floor, a detail which
escaped the protruding eyes of her flatmates, and stood facing them
flushed and defiant.
“Well!” said Maud Raines.
“What are you up to, Darcy?” asked Helen.
“Exercising,” said Darcy blandly.
“And practicing vocal music on the side,” remarked Maud.
“Oh, that’s just for breathing,” exclaimed the girl.
“But what’s it all about?” queried Helen. “I’ve gone into training.”
“You! What for?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just for fun.”
“You look it,” was Maud’s grim commentary. “Who’s training you?”
“Andy Dunne. He trained John L. Sullivan and Gloria Greene.”
“And which one are you modeling yourself on?” asked Maud
maliciously.
“Oh, I’d rather be like Gloria, of course,” retorted Darcy easily.
“But I feel more like John L.”
“I think it very clever of you, Darcy,” approved the kind-hearted
Helen. “Englishmen are so athletic.”
Darcy seized upon the convenient suggestion. “Monty is crazy for
me to be a real sport,” she said modestly.
“It’s a good thing he can’t see you learning,” remarked Maud.
“Did you ever know anything more pathetic!” said Helen, when
they had withdrawn, leaving Darcy to resume her exercises.

“Pathetic! Driveling foolishness! Such a figure as she cuts! And it’s
all such a waste,” concluded Maud, complacent in her own bright-
hued prettiness.
But a more discerning eye took a different view. Holcomb Lee,
who hadn’t seen Darcy for some weeks, had no sooner said, “Hello!”
in his usual offhand way, when he came to call that evening, than he
seized a pencil and demanded a sheet of paper.
“You’re always drawing Darcy!” said Maud disdainfully.
“Just that curve from the ear down,” said he absently.
“Something’s happened to it.”
“What?” asked Maud.
“It’s come true. The way I wanted it to be. Only better.”
He took Darcy into the corner, under the light, and sketched
busily. As his quick glances appraised her, a look of puzzlement came
into his eyes. He leaned forward, and with the inoffensive
impersonality of the one-ideaed artist ran his hand lightly over her
shoulder and down the arm.
“Moses!” said Holcomb Lee.
Darcy had flexed her upper arm and the long, slender muscles
came up like iron.
“Training?” he asked.
Darcy nodded.
Again he regarded her subtly altered face. “What for? The
chorus?”
“Haven’t I been chorus long enough?” twinkled Darcy.
“I get you,” said Lee with emphasis. “You’ll make the ingénue
hustle for her job, whoever she is. By Jinks, it’s a miracle!”
“But don’t tell them,” said Darcy.
“Who? The girls? Haven’t they noticed? Why, a blind man could
feel the difference in you ten feet away.”
“You’re the only one that has noticed it so far, and you’re an
artist.”

“Well, I suppose the girls wouldn’t,” said the illustrator
thoughtfully. “They see too much of you to recognize the change.”
What Andy Dunne’s exercises had so obviously wrought in muscle
and condition, Andy Dunne’s discipline had accomplished for
character. Imperceptibly even to herself, the inner Darcy was
growing strong. One result was a new zest in her designing, taking
the form of experiments aside from the beaten track which did not
always meet the approval of B. Riegel, active head of B. Riegel &
Sons, manufacturers of wall-paper. Now Mr. Riegel’s approval, with
the consequent check, was highly essential to Miss Darcy Cole’s
plans. And Miss Darcy Cole’s attitude toward Mr. Riegel had always
been acquiescent, not to say humble.
But on a particular morning, when the designer was even more
alive than she was now accustomed to feel, she brought in a
particular design, upon which she had spent much time and thought,
and with which she was well content. Not so Mr. Riegel. Being first,
last, and between times a man of business, he hardly gave a glance
to the dowdy girl as she entered, but bestowed his entire attention
on the sketch. “Too blank,” was his verdict.
“That makes it restful,” suggested Darcy. “Who wants restfulness?
Pep! That’s what goes these days.”
“It’s for a sleeping-room, you know.”
For all the effect upon the wall-paper man she might as well not
have spoken. He set two pencil cross-marks on the design.
“Ornamentation here, and here,” he directed curtly.
“I prefer it as it is,” said Darcy calmly.
Two months—yes, two weeks before—Darcy would have stepped
meekly out and ruined her pattern by introducing the Riegel
ornamentation. But all was different now. Andy Dunne’s encomium,
“because yah’r game,” had put fire in her blood. There was a
reflection of it in her cheeks when Mr. Riegel looked up at her in
surprise and annoyance. He saw the same familiar figure in the
same shabby, ill-fitting clothes. But now she was standing up inside
them. And she, whose dull regard formerly drooped away from the

most casual encounter, was confronting him with bright and level
eyes.
“Suppose you give my way a trial,” suggested this changeling.
“Mebbe you know more about this business than I do,” he
challenged.
“Not at all. But it’s my design, after all, isn’t it?” said the girl
pleasantly.
Gathering it up with hands which somehow suggested
protectiveness against the Philistine blight of Mr. Riegel, she
bestowed it safe in her imitation-leather roll. “I’ll try to bring you
another next week,” she promised.
“Wait, now, a minute!” cried the perplexed employer. “What’re you
going to do with this one?”
“Try it on Balke & Stover.”
“Leave it,” he ordered. “Check’ll be sent.” He whirled around in his
chair, presenting the broad hint of a busy back to her.
“Make it for thirty dollars, please,” said Darcy to the back.
Mr. Riegel performed a reverse whirl so much more swiftly than
his swivel-chair was prepared for that it was thrown off its balance,
and its occupant, with a smothered yelp, beheld himself orbitally
projected toward a line of open sample paints waiting on the floor
for a test. Mr. Riegel’s own person was the last medium in the world
upon which he desired to test them, for much stress had been laid
upon their lasting quality. He was sprawling out, fairly above them,
beyond human help, it seemed, when something happened. Darcy,
standing in that attitude of unconscious but alert poise which rigid
physical training inculcates, thrust forth a slender but powerful hand,
caught the despairing Riegel, as it were in mid-flight, brought him up
all standing, restored him to the chair and both of them to the status
quo.
“Urf!” gasped the victim of these maneuvers. He bent a look upon
Darcy which was a curious blend of wonder, skepticism, and respect.
“Say,” he said, “you couldn’t use a job in the trucking department,

maybe?” Then, recovering himself, he growled: “What was that you
said about thirty dollars?”
The growl had no effect. Darcy’s confidence had been stiffened by
the little interlude of the chair.
“My prices have gone up,” she informed him.
“The devil they have! Beg y’ pardon, Miss Watchemame—”
“My name is Cole.”
“Miss Cole. Look-a-here, now; d’ you think your work is worth ten
dollars more than it has been?”
“Put it this way; I think you’ve been paying me ten dollars too
little. Don’t you?”
At bottom Mr. Riegel was a fair-minded as well as a shrewd
person. Moreover, he had been tremendously impressed by the
unsuspected physical prowess of this queer specimen. To catch him
in mid-flight and reëstablish his equilibrium had required no mean
quality of muscle. Yet this sloppy-looking girl had done it without
turning a hair! And now she was striking him for a raise. He laughed
aloud.
“That ain’t the point,” said he. “I don’t; but some of my
competitors might. Lessay twenty-five for the next half-dozen: after
that, thirty, and this one goes, as is.”
“Right!” said Darcy, composedly.
Exultant she went out into a dusk of wind and rain, such as would
have swamped her spirit in misery aforetime, and fought her way
joyously through it, ending her journey by taking the long flights of
the apartment two steps at a time and singing as she sped. Outside
the door she had noticed a taxi. In the front room she found Gloria,
who had stopped on her way to the theater, stretched on the divan
and talking with the turtledoves.
“I looked in to see how you were getting on,” said the actress,
eyeing Darcy keenly.
“Splendidly!”
“Everything all right in the gymnasium? Did Andy—er—”

“Oh, yes. It’s all right,” hastily broke in the girl, having no mind to
hear her felonies discussed by her flat-mates. “Just as right as right
can be.”
“You’re awfully chirpy, considering what a beast of a raw, rainy
day it’s been,” observed Helen.
“Is it bad?” said Darcy blandly. “I suppose it is, but I hardly
noticed.”
“Another British mail in, I suppose,” conjectured Maud. “That
always brightens her up.”
“If there is I haven’t got anything yet,” answered Darcy, who had
neglected to consult the morning papers for the incoming steamship
entries. Her myth involved so many supporting lies, that it was
difficult and ticklish to keep it properly bolstered up.
“Has she told you about the Britisher, Gloria?” asked Helen.
“Monty Veyze? Of course. I know him.”
“You know him!” cried Helen and Maud in a breath. “What’s he
like?”
“Oh, he’s all that Darcy thinks he is,” smiled Gloria. “It’s years
since I’ve seen him. To put it Englishwise, he was by way of being
horribly smart, then. Just where is he now, Darcy?”
“Near the Siberian frontier,” said Darcy shortly. There was a gleam
in Gloria’s eye which she neither understood nor liked.
“In one of the twenty-two sub-wars that signalize the universal
peace, I suppose,” laughed the actress. “Or is it twenty-nine.”
“I thought long engagements weren’t the thing in England,” said
Maud, musingly. “Particularly in these uncertain times when—when
anything might happen.”
“I think that’s pretty horrid of you, Maud,” retorted Darcy with
carefully assumed sadness, smothering a private and murderous
wish that “anything” would happen to her home-made fiancé.
“I don’t mean it that way. But if I were really engaged to an
Englishman on active service, I’d go over and marry him, on his very
first leave.”

Casual though Maud’s “really” sounded, it brought red to Darcy’s
cheeks and a livelier gleam to Gloria’s eyes. The latter turned to
Darcy.
“Why not tell them?”
“Tell them what?” inquired the girl, staring at her mentor in amaze
and alarm.
“All about Monty. The whole thing. You know, I claim a partnership
in him.”
By a mighty effort Darcy suppressed a gasp. What was Gloria up
to, now?
“Go on,” the actress urged. “Tell them.”
“I-I can’t,” stammered Darcy, which was exactly what the feminine
Macchiavelli on the divan was maneuvering for.
“Shy?” said she, sweetly. “Very well, then. I’ll tell them. May I?”
Receiving a dubious nod, Gloria proceeded:
“Sir Montrose Veyze has finally got his leave. He’ll be here about
the middle of October.” (That “gone” feeling came over Darcy.)
“By the 15th?” asked Helen eagerly. “In time for our wedding?”
“No. That’s the unfortunate part. We hoped we could make it a
triple wedding. That’s the little surprise Darcy has been waiting to
spring on you.”
“Can’t he make it?” asked Maud. The notion of a titled adjunct to
her marriage appealed strongly to her practical mind.
“Not quite. The best he can do is the 16th. Possibly later. So they’ll
be married quite quietly from my apartment and have a month’s
honeymoon before he goes back.”
To all of which Darcy listened in the stupefaction of despair. She
was roused by Helen Barrett’s bear-hug of congratulations.
“Do you know,” said Helen, “I haven’t really quite been able to
believe it up to now. Oh, Darcy, I’m so glad for you!”
With some faltered excuse for getting out of the room, the subject
of this untimely felicitation escaped. Her brain seethed with horrid

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