t your
father----"

But the last act was on, and she did not finish what had promised to be
a suggestion. Nevertheless, a plan had taken shape in her busy mind,
which she determined to discuss with her father and mother.

As if to further her design they found Mr. Stevens waiting outside the
theatre for his daughter and Marjorie lost no time in presenting him to
her father and mother. He greeted the Deans gravely, thanking them for
their kindness to his daughter, with a fine courtesy that made a marked
impression on them, and after he had gone his way, a happy, smiling
Constance beside him, Marjorie slipped her arms in those of her father
and mother, and walking between them told Constance's story all over
again.

"I think it is positively noble in Mr. Stevens to take care of that old
man and little Charlie, when they have no claim upon him," she finished.

"He has a remarkably fine, sensitive face," said Mrs. Dean. "I suppose
like nearly all persons of great musical gifts, he lacks the commercial
ability to manage his affairs successfully."

"Don't you believe that if the people of Sanford only knew how
beautifully Mr. Stevens and the other man played together they might
hire them for afternoon teas and little parties and such things?" asked
Marjorie, with an earnestness that made her father say teasingly, "Are
you going to enlist in his cause as his business manager?"

"You mustn't tease me, General," she reproved. "I'm in dead earnest. I
was just thinking to-night that Mr. Stevens ought to have an orchestra
of his own. You know mother promised me a party on my birthday, and
that's not until January tenth. Why can't I have it the night before
Thanksgiving? That will be next Wednesday. Mr. Stevens and Mr. Roland
can play for us to dance. A violin and piano will be plenty of music. If
everybody likes my orchestra, then someone will be sure to want to hire
it for some of the holiday parties. Don't you think that a nice plan?"

"Very," laughed her father. "I see you have an eye to business,
Lieutenant."

"You can have your party next week, if you like, dear," agreed Mrs.
Dean, who made it a point always to encourage her daughter's generous
impulses.

"Then I'll send my invitations to-morrow," exulted Marjorie. "Hurrah for
the Stevens orchestra! Long may it wave!" She gave a joyous skip that
caused her father to exclaim "Steady!" and her mother to protest against
further jolting.

"Beg your pardon, both of you