“All but the ogre,” said Betty.

“Joe Clark is the very one for that,” exclaimed Lloyd.  “He is head and shouldahs tallah than all the othah boys, although he is only fifteen, and his voice is so deep and gruff it sounds as if it came out of the cellah.  We can stop and ask him if he’ll take the part.”

“Invite him to come down to the reading of the play, too,” said Mrs. Walton.  “I’ll look for you all promptly at four.”

Betty almost lost her courage that afternoon when she saw the large group waiting for her under the beech-trees on Mrs. Walton’s lawn.  Mrs. MacIntyre was there, fresh and dainty as Betty always remembered her, with the sunshine flickering softly through the leaves on her beautiful white hair.  Miss Allison, who, in the children’s opinion, knew everything, sat beside her, and worst of all, the younger Mrs. MacIntyre was there; Malcolm’s and Keith’s mother, whom Betty had never seen before, but of whom she had heard glowing descriptions from her admiring sons.

Lloyd pointed her out to Betty as they drove in at the gate.  “See, there she is, in that lovely pink organdy.  Wouldn’t you love to look like her?  I would.  She’s like a queen.”

Betty sank back, faint with embarrassment.  “Oh, godmother!” she whispered.  “I know I can’t read it before all those people.  It will choke me.  There’s at least a dozen, and some of them are strangers.”

Mrs. Sherman smiled, encouragingly.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, dear.  Your play is beautiful, in my opinion, and every one there will agree with me when they’ve all heard it.  Go on and do your best and make us all proud of you.”

There was no time to hesitate.  Keith was already swinging on the carriage steps to welcome them, and Malcolm and Ranald were bringing out more chairs to make places for them with the group under the beeches.  Nobody mentioned the play for some time.  The older people were busy questioning Mrs. Sherman about her summer abroad, and Malcolm and Keith had much to tell the others of their vacation at the seashore; of polo and parties and ping-pong, and several pranks that sent the children into shrieks of laughter.

In the midst of the hum of conversation Betty’s heart almost stood still.  Mrs. Walton was calling the company to order.  Coming forward, she led Betty to a chair in the centre of the circle, and asked her to begin.  It was with hands that trembled visibly that Betty opened her note-book and began to read “The Rescue of the Princess Winsome.”

CHAPTER XIII.

“THE RESCUE OF THE PRINCESS WINSOME”

AN ENTERTAINMENT FOR THE BENEFIT
OF THE RED CROSS

CHARACTERS