“Why, what could she do?” Flossie asked in surprise.
“Why, Flossie Barnet! You saw the cover all spoiled. Don't you s'pose she'll—”
But Mollie's question was hushed by the silvery tinkle of the bell which told that recess was over.
Arabella did not return for the afternoon rehearsal, but she entered the class-room on the next morning as calmly as if nothing had happened, and she seemed very eager to show her interest in the dialogue by appearing at all the other rehearsals.
Exhibition day had arrived, and parents and friends were seated before the tiny stage, waiting for the curtain to rise.
Dorothy had sung two songs very sweetly, Nancy had danced for them, and had charmed them with her grace, Nina and Jeanette had played a duet, and now, yes, the curtain was rising!
Every one leaned forward to catch the first glimpse of the stage-setting, and in the midst of the excitement, a small, prim figure entered the room, and made its way toward the only seat which was still unoccupied. It was beside Flossie's Uncle Harry, and as the woman took the seat he turned, and then moved to make extra room for her.
“That must be Arabella's Aunt Matilda!” he whispered to his wife.
“Hush-sh-sh!” she whispered.