"Oh, isn't it elegant—oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll be free in Heaven—not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"
Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned away—looked at other faces—listened to other voices. It was Evangeline she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she saw.
"There's Miss Theodosia—there, there, Stefana! She's come to the p'rade!"
"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.
"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."
"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean—"
"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.
"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"