"We didn't need this circus to prove it, did we?" asked Raridan cynically.
"Aren't there any more exercises—is it all over?" cried Miss Marshall.
"Bless us, no!" replied Raridan.
The evolutions of the grand march were now in progress and they stood watching it.
"They didn't get enough rehearsals for this," said Raridan. "Look at that mix up!" One of the knights had tripped and stumbled over the skirt of his robe. "They ought to behead him for that."
"Mr. Raridan's terribly severe," said Saxton. The king and queen, leading the march, were passing under the box.
"The king really looks scared," remarked Miss Warren.
"Yes; he's rather conscious of his clothes," said Raridan. "His train rattles him." Evelyn glanced up at them and laughed and nodded.
Before the march broke up into dancing they went down from the gallery. On the floor, the older people were resolving themselves into lay figures against the wall. They found Mr. Porter leaning against one of the rude supports of the gallery, wondering whether he might now escape to the retirement of the cloak-room to get his hat and cigar. The young people burst upon him with congratulations.