"When will the affair take place?" Mr. Procter asked.
"On the fifteenth of October. We have ample time for rehearsals."
A little later Miss Smithson shook hands with Suzanna's father, murmuring something conventional about his being fortunate in the possession of such an interesting family. Then she was gone.
The children, bidding father good-bye, hastened on home. They burst into the house, anxious to tell mother all about the meeting with Miss Smithson.
Mrs. Procter listened interestedly. "And father said I might take part in the Indian Drill," said Suzanna. "I shall have to have an outfit perhaps and dancing shoes."
"What did father say about that?" asked Mrs. Procter, an anxious little frown growing between her eyes.
"He said you would get them for me," Suzanna returned. She, too, looked a little anxiously at her mother. "But Miss Smithson said perhaps she could hire the Indian costumes."
Mrs. Procter's expression lightened.
"Well, perhaps she can," she said.
"And if she can't, mother?" Suzanna breathlessly awaited the answer.