Gertrude was already dressed for the entertainment, but Chee still wore her pink gingham. “Come, Chee, you won’t have any more than time,” she urged, anxious to know the contents of a box Chee had brought. “Don’t you want some help?”
“I’ve tried it on before,” answered the little girl, as she tugged up-stairs with her package.
Eight o’clock drew near. The street in front of the hall was filled with farmers’ vehicles and passing townsfolk. Inside was the important bustle of ushers rushing to and fro, and the sound of instruments being tuned.
As the moments passed, the throng grew dense. Fans seemed to sway the audience back and forth. At last the curtains rose—the house was packed.
The chorus of white-clad children lifted its voice. It was a good chorus—the finest of which Chesterfield had ever boasted. Sadie’s grandpa was satisfied. The village philosopher’s psychological chart was being revealed to him. Even the doctor was elated. Beside him, sat “Cit’zen P’liteness,” which coincidence might have been fortunate for the boy, who more than once, in extreme excitement, choked and nearly swallowed his gum.
The musicians did their best. The people demanded encore after encore. It grew late. The enthusiasm lulled. Little children slept in their parents’ arms; here and there a fretful one cried out.
A hush fell over the stage, and people waited uneasily; children became still more impatient; the very air grew intense. A young lady near the front was faint—it was the one with blue eyes and golden hair. Soon a soft step was heard. All eyes were again fastened on the stage.
A small, brown-faced girl stood near the centre. She was dressed in gay Indian clothes; her long black unbraided hair fell nearly to her knees; bright beads were twined about her neck and arms; bare ankles showed above wee moccasins. In one hand she carried a small red violin and a long bow.
The people were too much interested to applaud. All strove for a better view of the dark, flushed face before them.
Catching sight of the golden-haired young woman, the child’s lips parted in a smile. Caressingly she put the violin under her arm, and nodded encouragement. The white face of her friend banished, for a moment, her own timidity.