a man’s hat they think of Reitz. It’s the same way with a concert. When they see ‘Dorothy Reitz’ often enough, they know it. Then, when they think of music, they think of Dorothy Reitz.”
He chewed his cigar viciously.
“Yes, ma’am!” he concluded. “Keep your name before the public—and you'll sell ’em!”
As Dorothy was riding home from Madame Graaberg’s studio the next day, she noticed a familiar picture in an evening paper which a girl opposite her in the car was reading. She bent over to examine the picture. It was a large photograph of herself. Across the top of it she could read the headline:
HAT KING’S NIECE TO BE DIVA
She was stunned for a moment. She tried to read the few lines of black type below the picture, but the owner of the paper turned to another page.
Dorothy left the car at the nearest news-stand and bought a copy of the paper.
She crumpled the paper in finding the page from which her photograph greeted the world.
HAT KING’S NIECE TO BE DIVA
Here it was. It was a good picture of her, too.
She scanned the black type:
“From lids to Liszt is a big jump, but charming Dorothy Reitz has done it. Miss Reitz, who is the niece of Elliott Reitz, the hat king, is soon to make her New York début in concert. Her recital, it is rumored, will be unlike her famous uncle’s product: it will not go over the heads of the audience.”
Dorothy folded the paper together angrily. So this was
[138]
