s little box-like office at the "grand
entrance," as the double wooden door was styled, past the rows of rough
benches to the stage at the upper end of the hall, where some
carpenters and other employes were busy making arrangements for the
evening's performance.

Neither the dust nor the dinginess was seen by Laura. A subtle
fascination held her in thrall--she saw everything through a golden
light.

She, who had been stage manager so often under the disadvantages of
improvised platforms and home-made curtains, could appreciate a real
hall and a real stage with a real curtain, were they ever so crude.

She was on the point of returning to fetch Ivy to view the magic scene
and share her joy, when one of the men, who appeared to be a personage
of authority, left the stage where he had been directing the movements
of everybody, and proceeded down the aisle.

His coat brushed against a bench and sustained a smudge of dust which
he viewed with an exclamation of disgust.

Returning to the dressing-room, he hunted round and found a
feather-duster which he carried away in triumph.

He came down the aisle for the second time, wielding the brush with
vigor, making frantic dabs at the benches on each side, and raising
great clouds of dust that rose and enveloped him, and settled back
again on the furniture.

Laura was so interested in his movements that she forgot her manners,
and stood watching his ineffectual efforts at cleaning up, with a smile
of amusement mingled with compassion.

At length the stranger was seized with a fit of coughing as the dust
invaded his throat, and he stood for a moment to rest from his labors.

Then for the first time he noticed the little girl standing smiling in
the doorway.

He gave her an answering smile, lifted his hat and, to Laura's dismay,
crossed over to her side.

He was very dark and foreign looking; she recognized him as one of the
gentlemen whom she and Ivy had noticed on the street.

"Pardon, _mademoiselle_," he said; "but perhaps you are the good fairy
to help me out!"

Laura answered him with a blush and a look of inquiry.

"The dust, _c'est_ terrible," he went on to explain; "but there is no
one to remove it from the seats. The ladies will have fear for their
beautiful costumes. Can you not direct me to someone who will
manipulate this woman's weapon? I confess it is beyond my powers!"

He glanced so ruefully at the feather brush that Laura laughed aloud.

"Wh