"I declare, Flamingus, you've got a real business head on you jest like your pa hed. He's right, Amarilly. 'Twouldn't be treating Mr. Meredith fair not ter go, and it's due him that you go right, so he won't be ashamed of you. I'll rig you up some way."
The costuming of Amarilly in a manner befitting the great occasion was an all-absorbing affair for the next few days. Finally, by the combination of Mrs. Jenkins's industry and Amarilly's ingenuity, aided by the Boarder and the boys, an elaborate toilet was devised and executed. Milton donated a "shine" to a pair of tan shoes, the gift of the girl "what took a minor part." Mrs. Jenkins looked a little askance at the "best skirt" of blue which had shrunk from repeated washings to a near-knee length, but Amarilly assured her that it was not as short as the skirts worn by the ballet girls. She cut up two old blouses and fashioned a new, bi-colored waist bedizened with gilt buttons. The Boarder presented a resplendent buckle, and Flamingus provided a gawdy hair-ribbon.
The hat was the chief difficulty. On week days she wore none, but of course St. Mark's demanded a headgear of some kind, and at last Mrs. Jenkins triumphantly produced one of Tam o' Shanter shape manufactured from a lamp mat and adorned with some roses bestowed by the leading lady. The belligerent locks of the little scrub-girl refused to respond to advances from curling iron or papers, but one of the neighbors whose hair was a second cousin in hue to Amarilly's amber tresses, loaned some frizzes, which were sewed to the brim of the new hat. The problem of hand covering was solved by Mr. Vedder, as a pair of orange-tinted gloves had been turned in at the box-office by an usher, and had remained unclaimed. They proved a perfect fit, and were the supreme triumph of the bizarre costume.
Not even Solomon in all his glory was arrayed in splendor greater than that displayed by Amarilly when she set forth on Sunday morning for St. Mark's. Promptness was ever Amarilly's chief characteristic, and she arrived long in advance of the ushers. This gave her an opportunity to sample several pews before finally selecting one whose usual occupants, fortunately, were out of the city.
The vastness and stillness of the edifice, disturbed now and then by silken rustle and soft-shod foot were bewildering to Amarilly. She experienced a slight depression until the vibrating tones of the organ fell softly upon the air. The harmony grew more subdued, ceased, and was succeeded by another moment of solemn silence. Then a procession of white-robed choristers came down the aisle, their well-trained voices ringing out in carolling cadence.
"Them's the chorus," thought Amarilly.
Entranced, she listened to the service, sitting upright and very still. The spiritual significance of the music, the massing of foliage and flowers in the chancel, the white altars with their many lighted candles, were very impressive to the little wide-eyed worshipper.
"Their settin's is all right," she said to herself critically, "and it ain't like the theayter. It's—"
A sudden revealing light penetrated the shadows of her little being.
"This is the real thing!" she acknowledged.