softly commented one tall youth.

"Yes," said Hugh, facing him with a gaze so formidable, yet to the rest
so comical, that the nudgings multiplied.

"Miss Hayle's songs, however," Hugh began to add.

"Yes, how about the songs?" asked some one. "They're no servant's part
and they're out before the curtain."

"She must sing them," replied Hugh. "They won't keep her long and they
involve no contact."

"Right!" exclaimed one. "Good!" said another, and yet another. "Without
them we might as well give up the whole business." From the curtains
through which he had been peering the actor glanced back. "Those
footlights are capital," he said to his wife, and then, for the joy of
all: "We've got a full house!"

The wife looked, turned quickly, and murmured to him: "Hayle's twins in
the front row."

"Yes," he said, absently again, "with war in their eyes.... Now, Mr.
Hugh, if you'll send for Miss Hayle----"

"Harriet's gone for her," replied his wife.

"Here I am," spoke Ramsey at the door of a stateroom appropriated as a
passageway. And assuredly there she was; but by the magic of dress,
through the trained cunning of Mrs. Gilmore's mind and "Harriet's" hand,
and even more by the imprint of her new weight of experience, she was
Ramsey transformed, grown beautiful. An added year was in her face. A
chastened tenderness both lighted and shaded it, half veiling yet half
reasserting its innocent hardihood. The astonished amateurs hailed her
with a clapping of hands, in which, it pleased her deeply to notice,
Hugh Courteney, staring, took no share. Beyond the curtain the unseen
audience answered with a pounding of heels and canes in good-natured
impatience. Gilmore hurriedly waved away all the lads but Hugh, and Mrs.
Gilmore all the girls but Ramsey. To her she glided while Hugh and her
husband conferred on some last point.

"Well, dear," she said, pressing her backward into the stateroom, "are
you ready?"

"No, dear Mrs. Gilmore, please, no, I'm not."

"Ah, yes, you are. You'll go on from"--they passed out and entered the
next room forward--"from here. And mark! when you find nothing between
you and the people but the footlights, and their glare blinds you, don't
stand close over them trying to see, or they'll make you look scared and
pale, and you're not scared the least bit, are you?"

"I don't know," laughed Ramsey, softly, through tears. "I never was,
before; never had sense enough, mom-a says. But, oh, I know I'm