On lower steps others of the brilliantly dressed children—all butterflies and winged insects—were grouped. From the front the picture thus formed was a very beautiful one indeed; but the children had to go over and over the scene to learn to do their part skillfully and to secure the right effect from the front.
"Aren't you scared up there, little girl?" one of the women playing in the piece asked Tess.
"No-o," said the Corner House girl, slowly. "I'm not scared. But I shall be glad each time when the tableau is over. You see, these other little girls have no belt and wire to hold them, as I have."
"But you are so much higher than the others!"
"No, ma'am. It only looks so. It's what the stage man said was an optical delusion," Tess replied, meaning "illusion." "I can touch those other girls on either side of me—yes, ma'am."
And she did touch them. Each time that she went through the scene, and the butterflies' wings vibrated as they bent forward, Tess' hands, which were out of sight of the audience, clutched at the other girls' sashes.
Tess was a sturdy girl for her age. Her hands at the waists of the two butterflies steadied them as they posed on this day for the final rehearsal of the difficult tableau.
"That's it!" called out the manager. "Now! Hold it! Lights!"
The glare of the spotlight shot down upon the grouped children from above the proscenium arch.
"Steady!" shouted the stage manager again, for the whole group behind the gauze drop seemed to be wavering.