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the draperies for one thing, and some of them wouldn't unroll quickly, while others threatened to tumble down on the servants' devoted heads. "Well, we'll just have to let them go for to-night," said Nita Reese dejectedly at last. She was chairman of the committee. "To-morrow we'll fix them all up again, the way Madeline says is right, and you three must come over and do that part of the scene again. Is everybody ready?" "Miss Amelia Minchen isn't," said Betty, "She just came in carrying her costume." "Then go and help her hurry into it," commanded Nita peremptorily. "Madeline, will you fix Ram Dass's turban? He's untwisted it again of course. Georgie Ames, line up the Seminary girls and the Carmichael children, and see whether any of their skirts are too long. Take them down on the floor. Everybody off the stage, please, but the scene-shifters." "Oh, Nita," cried Polly Eastman, who had just come in, rushing breathlessly up to the distracted chairman, "I'm so sorry to be late, but some people that I couldn't refuse asked me down-town to dinner. I ate and ran, really I did. And Nita, what do you think----" "I'm much too tired to think," returned Nita, wearily. "What's happened now?" "Why, nothing has actually happened, only I was at the station this afternoon, and I asked the shoe-shine man about the monkey, and he hasn't heard, but he told the organ-man that the play began at half-past eight, and all the trains have been horribly late to-day, so if he should plan to get in on the eight-fifteen----" "Have him telegraph that it begins at six," said Nita, firmly. "Go and see to it now." "Why, I did tell him to," said Polly, sighing at the prospect of going out again. "Only he's so irresponsible that I think we ought to decide----" "Go and stand over him while he telegraphs," said Nita with finality. "We can't understudy a monkey. Josephine Boyd, come here and go through your long speech. I want to be sure that you get it right. It didn't make sense the way you said it yesterday." "Oh, Nita." It was Lucile Merrifield holding out a yellow envelope. Nita clutched it frantically. "Perhaps she's not coming. Wouldn't I be relieved!" "It's not a telegram," explained Lucile, gently, "only the proof of the programs that the printer has taken this opportune moment to send up. The boy says if you could look at it right off, why, he could wait and take it back. They want it the first thing in the morning."
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