"Don't like it—eh?" asked Dr. Fisher, regarding her keenly.
"It might be the best thing in the world," said Charlotte slowly. "Those girls act splendidly; they've had little plays so often, and Polly has drilled them, that they'll know just how to go to work, and it will please Polly. Oh, yes, do let us have that," she cried, beginning to wax quite enthusiastic.
"It will please them too," said the little man, not withdrawing his gaze.
"Yes, it will please them," said Charlotte, after a minute, "and I will run over in the morning and ask them."
"That's good!" cried Dr. Fisher, bringing his hands together with a joyful clap; and getting out of his chair he began to skip up and down like a boy. "And let Amy Loughead do the piano music, do; that will please Polly to see how the child has gone ahead. I can't hardly believe Miss Salisbury; she tells me the chit practices every minute she can save from other things. Be sure to have her asked, Charlotte, child."
"I will ask Amy," promised Charlotte, with a pang at the thought of the delight over Jack Loughead's handsome face at her invitation.
"And you are to sing," cried the little doctor jubilantly. "Now we are all capitally fixed. It takes you and me to get up celebrations, doesn't it?" and he stood as tall as he could and beamed at her. "I'd go over as early as I could, Charlotte," he advised, "and tell those girls, because you know a week isn't much to get ready in."
"I will," said Charlotte, "go the very first thing after breakfast."
And after breakfast, the next morning, she tied her hat on, and not trusting herself to think of her expedition, actually ran down the long carriage drive to the avenue—then walking at her best pace, she stood before Alexia Rhys' door and rang the bell.
"There, now, I can't go back," she said to herself, and in a minute or two she was in the reception room, and Alexia Rhys was running over the stairs and standing with a puzzled expression on her face, before her.