The Little Colonel shrugged her shoulders impatiently. "Oh, I can't wait to know what you're goin' to do with a spinnin'-wheel in the play. Tell me now, Betty."
But the little playwright only shook her head "I'm not sure myself yet. But I keep thinking of the humming of the wheel, and a sort of spinning-song keeps running through my head. I thought, too, it would help to make a pretty scene."
"You're goin' to put Hero in it, aren't you?" was the Little Colonel's question.
"Oh, Lloyd! I can't," cried Betty, in dismay. "A dog couldn't have a part with princes and witches and fairies."
"I don't see why not," persisted Lloyd. "I sha'n't take half the interest if he isn't in it. I think you might put him in, Betty," she urged. "I'd do as much for you, if it was something you had set your heart on. Please, Betty!" she begged.
"But he won't fit anywhere!" said Betty, in a distressed tone. "I'd put him in, gladly, if he'd only go, but, don't you see, Lloyd, he isn't appropriate. It would spoil the whole thing to drag him in."
"I don't see why," said Lloyd, a trifle sharply. "Isn't it going to be a Red Cross entahtainment, and isn't Hero a Red Cross dog? I think it's very appropriate for him to have a part, even one of the principal ones."
"I can't think of a single thing for him to do—" began Betty.
"You can if you try hard enough," insisted Lloyd.
Betty sighed hopelessly, and turned to her lunch in silence. She wanted to please the Little Colonel, but it seemed impossible to her to give Hero a part without spoiling the entertainment.