“She has a good deal that sort of expression in ordinary times,” said Mrs. Sandford—­“without the sadness; and that she can assume, I day say.”

“I would rather not do it—­” Daisy was heard to say very gently but very soberly.  There was another laugh.

“Do what, Daisy? assume a look of sadness?” said Preston.

“I would rather not be the angel.”

“Nobody else could do it so well,” said Mrs. Sandford.  “You are the very one to do it.  It will be admirable.”

“I should like to be the angel—­” murmured Nora, low enough to have no one’s attention but Daisy’s.  The rest were agreeing that the picture would be excellent and had just the right performers assigned to it.  Daisy was puzzled.  It seemed to her that Nora had a general desire for everything.

“Ella will be one of the princes in the tower,” Preston went on.  “Nora will be Red Riding-Hood.”

“I won’t be Red Riding Hood—­” said Nora.

“Why not?  Hoity, toity!”

“It isn’t pretty.  And it has no pretty dress.”

“Why, it is beautiful,” said Mrs. Sandford; “and the dress is to be made with an exquisite red cashmere cardinal of Mrs. Randolph’s.  You will make the best Red Riding-Hood here.  Though Daisy would be more like the lamb the wolf was after,”—­continued the lady appealing to the manager; “and you might change.  Who is to be queen Esther?  Nora would do that well—­with her black eyes and hair—­she is more of a Jewess than any other of them.”

“Esther is fainting,” said Preston.  “Daisy’s paleness will suit that best.  Nora could not look faint.”

“Yes, I could,” said that damsel promptly.

“You shall blow the cakes that Alfred has let burn,” said Preston.  “Capital!  Look here, Nora.  You shall be that girl taking up the burnt cakes and blowing to cool them; and you may look as fierce as you like.  You will get great applause if you do that part well.  Eloise is going to be the scolding old woman.  She and I divide the old women between us.”

“Too bad, Preston!” said Mrs. Sandford laughing.  “What else are you going to be?”

“I am going to be one of those fellows coming to murder the little princes.”

“Who is Bassanio?”

“Hamilton says he will undertake that.  George declines.”

“Suppose we do some work, instead of so much talking,” said the former person; who had hitherto been a very quiet spectator and listener.  “Let us have a little practice.  We shall want a good deal before we get through.”

All agreed; agreed also that something in the shape of artistic draperies was needed for the practice.  “It helps”—­as Hamilton Rush remarked.  So Daisy went to desire the attendance of June with all the scarfs, mantles and shawls which, could be gathered together.  As Daisy went, she thought that she did not wish Nora to be queen Esther; she was glad Preston was firm about that.