ging
march.

How hard it was for the little ones to keep their feet still, though
they knew that was the proper thing to do! Claude, however, found his
little legs swinging in time, being careful not to let them touch the
floor, and Nettie's bright head and busy hands kept up a sort of
lilting movement, both children requiring some outlet for all that
pent-up exhilaration.

The music died gradually to the softest murmur, the curtain ascended
slowly, a movement and flutter went through the hall, and the people
settled themselves in their seats with their faces turned to the stage.

Up, up, the curtain soared toward the ceiling. Little Claude watched
it with a fascinated glance, expecting it to go right through the roof
but when it stopped just in time he gave a sigh of relief and directed
his eyes toward the stage. Then his face lengthened--as far as such a
chubby face could--for all that he saw in front of him was a huge round
affair of some soft material, all decked with flowers.

"Great scissors!" he muttered, as he gazed upon it in amazement; then
he noticed at the other side of the hall a portly gentleman who held a
sort of wand with which he pointed toward the stage where something
interesting was taking place but, alas, all that was visible to Claude
was the topmost part which resembled a clouded sky.

He gave a sigh of disappointment and glanced toward the girls. Alene
was leaning forward with a rapt expression, Ivy's mouth was half
opened--she appeared to have forgotten the world--and Laura's head was
craned painfully to one side of that huge affair in front. Then he
glanced at Nettie who sat beside him. Her face was the picture of woe,
her lips were curled ready to cry.

"What's the matter?" he whispered sympathetically.

A tear came running slowly down her cheek.

"Don't you see--I can't see a thing!"

Alene, attracted by their restlessness, glanced round. There they sat,
looking blankly at Hermione's mammoth hat, that shut away everything
else from their gaze. To be sure, it was a beautiful creation of white
chiffon, green foliage and pink ribbons; but when one has feasted his
eyes for a week on gorgeous posters, and has been washed and starched
and brought to the show to see wonderful things on a real stage, a
girl's hat, be it ever so fine, is surely a poor substitute!

"You little martyrs!" exclaimed Alene, feeling that she must do
something to help them.

She knew it would be useless