“I wish she'd give us some of her ‘views,’” he whispered to his wife, “Arabella says she has plenty of them.”
“Oh, Harry, hush, unless you want her to hear you.”
“I wouldn't mind,” he whispered, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment.
Just at that moment, the fairy queen seated herself upon her woodland throne, and as the girls knelt before her, the red curtain rolled slowly down, hiding the little stage.
The first act was finished, and now, in the few moments before the curtain would rise, the buzz of voices whispered approval of the pretty play.
Arabella's prim little aunt looked furtively toward her neighbor. He smiled encouragingly, and she ventured to speak.
She was a little old lady and he was tall and stalwart; his handsome face was youthful, and she wished him to know that she thought him a mere boy.
“Young man, do you approve of this play-acting?” she asked.
“Oh, surely,” he replied. “Who would care to see professionals, if he might, instead, see children trying to act?”
She eyed him sharply to learn if he were joking, but his manner was so dignified that she did not dream that he was amused.