Mollie was ready again to urge Arabella to choose, when the gate flew open, and Reginald, breathless and excited, rushed in.  Aunt Charlotte was standing in the walk, watching the pretty game.  Reginald ran to her, holding out something very wet and dripping.

“I didn’t find my ball, but I guess this is the di’logue book you couldn’t find,” he said.

The red and gold cover was blistered, and its fine color had almost disappeared.

Aunt Charlotte looked her surprise.

“Where did you find it?” she asked.

“Down behind the wall, where I saw somebody drop it,” he said, looking sharply at Arabella.

Of course they all looked at Arabella, who hesitated for a moment, then pushing past the girls, she ran down the walk to the gate, looking over her shoulder to call to Aunt Charlotte: 

“I’ve got to go home, ’cause my head aches.”

“I wonder what Aunt Charlotte will do about the book?” whispered Mollie.

“Why, what could she do?” Flossie asked in surprise.

“Why, Flossie Barnet!  You saw the cover all spoiled.  Don’t you s’pose she’ll—­”

But Mollie’s question was hushed by the silvery tinkle of the bell which told that recess was over.

Arabella did not return for the afternoon rehearsal, but she entered the class-room on the next morning as calmly as if nothing had happened, and she seemed very eager to show her interest in the dialogue by appearing at all the other rehearsals.

* * * * *

Exhibition day had arrived, and parents and friends were seated before the tiny stage, waiting for the curtain to rise.

Dorothy had sung two songs very sweetly, Nancy had danced for them, and had charmed them with her grace, Nina and Jeanette had played a duet, and now, yes, the curtain was rising!

Every one leaned forward to catch the first glimpse of the stage-setting, and in the midst of the excitement, a small, prim figure entered the room, and made its way toward the only seat which was still unoccupied.  It was beside Flossie’s Uncle Harry, and as the woman took the seat he turned, and then moved to make extra room for her.

“That must be Arabella’s Aunt Matilda!” he whispered to his wife.

“Hush-sh-sh!” she whispered.

“It not only must be, but it is!” he declared, and he offered her his programme.

Aunt Matilda was not wholly pleased with his courtesy, and had half a mind to refuse it, but few could resist his winning smile, and reluctantly she kept it.

“Aunt Matilda looks as if she were angry because she is not included in the dialogue,” whispered Uncle Harry, to which his lovely young wife replied: 

“She’ll hear you, if you aren’t careful; now do give your attention to the stage.”

“I’m simply all ears,” he whispered, and at that moment, the children ran on, entering from either side.