Mrs. Harold had written a great deal of Peggy’s history to this sister, so Mrs. Howland felt by no means a stranger to the young girl beside her, and her heart was full of sympathy when she thought of her lonely life in spite of all this world had given her of worldly goods.

Meantime the little opera opened with a dashing chorus, a ballet composed, apparently, of about fifty fetching young girls, gowned in the most up-to-date costumes, wearing large picture hats which were the envy of many a real feminine heart in the audience, and carrying green parsols with long sticks and fascinating tassles.  Oh, the costumer knew his business and those dainty high-heeled French slippers seemed at least five sizes smaller than they really were as they tripped so lightly through the mazes of the ballet.  But alack! the illusion was just a trifle dispelled when the ballet-girls broke into a rollicking chorus, for some of those voices boomed across the auditorium with an undoubtable masculine power.

Nevertheless, the ballet was encored until the poor dancers were mopping rouge-tinged perspiration from their faces.  One scene followed another in rapid order, all going off without a hitch until the curtain fell upon the first act, and during the interval and general bustle of friend greeting friend Polly and Mrs. Harold disappeared.  At first, Mrs. Howland was not aware of their absence, then becoming alive to it she asked: 

“Connie, dear, what has become of Aunt Janet and Polly?”

“I am sure I don’t know, mother.  They were here only a moment ago,” answered Constance.

“I saw them go off with Happy, beating it for all they were worth toward the wings, Carissima,” answered Snap, using for Mrs. Howland the name he had given her when he first met her, for this splendid big son-in-law loved her as though she were his own mother, and that love was returned in full.

“Peggy, dear, can you enlighten us?” asked Mrs. Howland looking at the girl beside her, for her lips were twitching and her eyes a-twinkle.

Peggy laughed outright, then cried contritely: 

“Oh, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Howland, I did not mean to be rude, but it is a secret, and such a funny one, too; I’d tell if I dared but I’ve promised not to breathe it.”

“Run out an extra cable then, daughter,” laughed Commander Stewart.

“I think this one will hold,” was Mrs. Howland’s prompt answer, with a little pat upon Peggy’s soft arm.  “She’s a staunch little craft, I fancy.  I won’t ask a single question if I must not.”  A moment later the lights were lowered and the curtains were rung back.  The scene drew instant applause.  It was a pretty woodland with a stream flowing in the background.  Grouped upon the stage in picturesque attitudes were about forty figures costumed to represent various birds, and in their midst was a charming little maiden, evidently the only human being in this bird-world, and presently it was disclosed to the audience that she was held as a hostage to these bird-beings, until the prince of their enchanted world should be released from bondage in the land of human beings and restored to them.