of dismay, the cunning woman devised a
scheme which would take the housekeeper out of her way, and leave the
field clear for her operations.

CHAPTER XII.

THE MASKED BRIDAL.

"Oh, Mrs. Weld!" Mrs. Goddard exclaimed, in tones of well-assumed
eagerness. "I am so glad you are here! I fear I have taken cold and am
going to have a chill; will you be so good as to go down and mix me a
hot lemonade and send it out behind the stage to me? for I must go
back directly, and I will drink it there."

The housekeeper arose at once and went out into the hall, where she
saw that madam appeared excited and trembling, while her face was very
pale, although her eyes were unusually bright.

Somehow, she did not believe her to be ill; but she cheerfully acceded
to her request, and went directly below to attend to her commission.

As she passed down the back stairs, Edith came hurrying up the front
way.

"What has happened?" she inquired, as she observed madam's unusual
excitement.

"The most unfortunate thing that could occur," she nervously replied.
"Miss Kerby and her brother, who had the leading parts in the play,
have just been summoned home, by telegraph, on account of sickness in
the family, and that leaves us without our hero and heroine."

"That is unfortunate, surely; the play will have to be given up, I
suppose?" Edith remarked.

"No, indeed! I should die of mortification!" cried madam, with
well-assumed consternation.

"But what can you do?" innocently inquired the young girl.

"The only thing to be done is to supply their places with others," was
the ready answer. "I have a gentleman friend who will take Mr. Kerby's
place, and I want you, Edith, to assume the part of the bride; you are
just about the size of Alice Kerby, and the costume will fit you to
perfection."

"But I am afraid I cannot--I never took part in a play in my life,"
objected Edith, who instinctively shrank from becoming so conspicuous
before such a multitude of people.

"Nonsense! there is but very little for you to do," said madam, "you
have simply to walk into the church, upon the arm of the supposed
bride's father. You will be masked, and no one will see your face
until after all is over, and you have not a word to say, except to
repeat the marriage service after the clergyman."

Edith shivered, and her face had grown very pale. She did not like the
idea at all; it was exceedingly repugnant to her.

"I wish you could find some