It proved a wise decision, for the last part of January was so stormy Jack could not have gone half the time.  So, while the snow drifted, and bitter winds raged, he sat snugly at home amusing Jill, and getting on bravely with his lessons, for Frank took great pains with him to show his approbation of the little kindness, and, somehow, the memory of it seemed to make even the detested Latin easier.

With February fair weather set in, and Jack marched happily away to school, with Jill’s new mittens on his hands, Mamma nodding from the door-step, and Frank ready to give him a lift on the new sled, if the way proved too long or too rough.

“I shall not have time to miss him now, for we are to be very busy getting ready for the Twenty-second.  The Dramatic Club meets to-night, and would like to come here, if they may, so I can help?” said Jill, as Mrs. Minot came up, expecting to find her rather low in her mind.

“Certainly; and I have a basket of old finery I looked up for the club when I was rummaging out bits of silk for your blue quilt,” answered the good lady, who had set up a new employment to beguile the hours of Jack’s absence.

When the girls arrived, that evening, they found Mrs. Chairwoman surrounded by a strew of theatrical properties, enjoying herself very much.  All brought such contributions as they could muster, and all were eager about a certain tableau which was to be the gem of the whole, they thought.  Jill, of course, was not expected to take any part, but her taste was good, so all consulted her as they showed their old silks, laces, and flowers, asking who should be this, and who that.  All wanted to be the “Sleeping Beauty,” for that was the chosen scene, with the slumbering court about the princess, and the prince in the act of awakening her.  Jack was to be the hero, brave in his mother’s velvet cape, red boots, and a real sword, while the other boys were to have parts of more or less splendor.

“Mabel should be the Beauty, because her hair is so lovely,” said Juliet, who was quite satisfied with her own part of the Queen.

“No, Merry ought to have it, as she is the prettiest, and has that splendid veil to wear,” answered Molly, who was to be the maid of honor, cuffing the little page, Boo.

“I don’t care a bit, but my feather would be fine for the Princess, and I don’t know as Emma would like to have me lend it to any one else,” said Annette, waving a long white plume over her head, with girlish delight in its grace.

“I should think the white silk dress, the veil, and the feather ought to go together, with the scarlet crape shawl and these pearls.  That would be sweet, and just what princesses really wear,” advised Jill, who was stringing a quantity of old Roman pearls.

“We all want to wear the nice things, so let us draw lots.  Wouldn’t that be the fairest way?” asked Merry, looking like a rosy little bride, under a great piece of illusion, which had done duty in many plays.