-and I was happy, happy, happy! when I found myself counted in as
one of them, with the welcome to the beautiful Davenport, Jewett, Dietz,
to the ever-favored Mrs. Gilbert, no longer, no heartier than my own! And
as I bowed low and gratefully, for just one moment I could not help
wishing that I had an important part to play, instead of the childish
thing awaiting me.

The prologue being over, Mr. Daly, with a frowning, disappointed face,
told those of the play to make all possible haste in changing their
dresses, that they might get to work and rub out the bad impression
already made.

Every important occasion seems to have its touch of the ridiculous, and
so had this one. The "bustle"--the big wire affair, extending to the
bottom of the skirt, had reached its hideous apogee of fashion at that
time, yet what possible relation could there be between that teetering
monstrosity and grace or sentiment or tragedy? Surely, I thought, this
girl-pupil, brought straight from convent-school to country-home, might
reasonably be bustleless--and I should look so much smaller--so much more
graceful! But--Mr. Daly? Never--never! would he consent to such a breach
of propriety! Fashion his soul loved! He pored over her plates! he bowed
to her mandates!

My courage having failed me, when I hurried to my room I put on the
obnoxious structure; but one glimpse of that camel-like hump on the back
of _Alixe_, and the thought of the fall in the chair made me desperate. I
tore the mass of wire off, and decided to keep out of sight till the last
moment, and then make a rush for the stage.

"Ready, Miss Morris?"

"Ready!" I answered, as the question was asked from door to door.

In a few moments the call-boy came back again: "Are you ready? Everyone
is out there but you."

"Oh, yes!" I said, showing myself to him, but still not leaving the
shelter of my room; and I heard him saying: "Yes, sir, she's all ready, I
saw her."

The curtain rose. Only a few lines were spoken before my entrance. I
dared wait no longer--heavens! no! for there was Mr. Daly coming for me.
I gathered up my skirts as bunchily as I could and ran out; but I could
not deceive Mr. Daly. In an instant he missed the necessary camel's hump.
"Good heaven and earth!" he shouted, "you've left your bustle!"

I broke into a run. "Wait!" he cried, loudly. He dashed into my open
room, caught the big bustle up, and dragging it like a great cage behind
him, came plunging down the