Millionaires don't grow on trees, but Myrtle, the manicurist, drew one in her nail clipping emporium, and found a young fortune in her palm after he had gone. "Myrt" wasn't a bit slow in using up the dough, either; and her trim form, swathed in glad rags, sure does look classy, in fact so classy that wealthy Mr. Gay engages himself to her and seals the pact with a diamond ring, purchased in the 5 and 10 cent store. Myrtle's blissful dream of a happy married life in her mansion on Fifth Avenue is rudely shattered when Jimmy, the bellhop, informs her that there already is one Mrs. Gay. Myrtle fixes old Gay, though, and he won't forget the incident for some time to come. Natty as her own clothes are, the sight of Mrs. Luvvy, attired in the latest creation from gay Paree, excites envy in her heart. Mr. and Mrs. Luvvy are elopers and Luvvy is afraid of losing his scalp when wifey's father arrives. Always ready to aid friends in distress, our own Myrtle dons the bride's clothes, and when the old gent comes, he is astounded at seeing another woman with Luvvy, and not his daughter as he expected, and leaves with apologies. The grateful honeymooners present her with an exquisite opera dress and cloak, and she shows her appreciation by wearing them that very night, when the boss takes her to see "La Garlic," or something like that. Tiring of being a belle of the beauty parlor, she induces her friend, Percy Plush, the dashing film hero, to get her into the movies. She makes a hit, but balks at the prospect of jumping from the top of the Woolworth Building. The director, in a quandary, tries to push her off, but the camera goes off instead, and lands squarely on the noble brow of Percy far below. Wisely deciding that the climate in that region is rather unhealthy for her, Myrtle returns to the more menial labor of trimming the digits of the idle rich.