g, she saw a stout, gray-robed friar hurrying toward
her.

"I've hunted all over for you," declared the friar, in Jerry's
unmistakable tones. "Come into the dressing-room. Someone is waiting to
see you there."

"Waiting to see me!" exclaimed Marjorie, in surprise.

"That's what I said. Come along." Jerry caught her arm and pulled her
gently into the dressing-room. At one end of the room stood the dingy
figure of Cinderella, deep in conversation with her fairy godmother.

At the sound of the opening door Cinderella wheeled and, with a
quavering little cry of "Marjorie!" ran forward to meet the newcomers.

Marjorie stopped short and stared unbelievingly at the shabbily clothed
figure, but Cinderella had now torn off her mask and was fumbling with
trembling eagerness in the pocket of her apron.

"Here it is, Marjorie, dear! I never dreamed you had one like it. No
wonder you felt dreadfully that day. Look at it." She thrust a small
glittering object into Marjorie's limp hand.

Marjorie regarded the object with a look of growing amazement, which
suddenly changed to one of alarm. "It isn't mine!" she gasped. "It's
exactly like it except for one thing. Mine has no pearls here." She
touched the tips of the golden butterfly's wings. "Oh, Constance, can
you ever forgive me?" The pretty butterfly pin slipped from her lax
fingers and Marjorie burst into tears.

"Don't cry, Marjorie," said Jerry, with unusual gentleness. "You didn't
know. It was just one of those miserable misunderstandings. Constance
wants to tell you about the pin."

"But how--where----" quavered Marjorie.

"Oh, I had an idea that there was some kind of a misunderstanding, so I
wrote Constance and asked her to come home as soon as she could,"
explained Jerry. "Her father gave me her address. She was coming home
next week, anyhow, but I wrote her again and asked her to get here in
time for the dance. The minute I saw that butterfly pin I asked her
straight out and out where she got it. She told me, and then I knew that
the thing for me to do was to bring you two together. She only came home
last night, so we had to plan a costume in a hurry. You haven't said a
word about her fairy godmother, either. Take off your mask, dear fairy
godmother."

"Irma!" cried Marjorie, as she glimpsed a laughing face. "Oh, it's too
wonderful!" She wound two penitent arms around Constance and kissed her.

"I guess that will settle Mignon," commented Jerry, in triumph. "It