A cup full of such
luck was not offered to every girl. She would drink it up; she would
enjoy it to the full. Then envious and malicious tongues would have to
be quiet, for she would prove by her engagement that Jim, at least,
believed in her. She drew up her head proudly as this thought came to
her.

The next act in the noisy little play was just beginning, and those who
cared for seats in the room were pushing forward; the crowd in the
passage was therefore less oppressive. Alison moved forward a step or
two, and stood in such a position that she was partly sheltered by a
curtain. She had scarcely done so before, to her great astonishment,
Hardy and Louisa came out. They stood together for a moment or two in
the comparatively deserted passage. Other characters occupied the
stage for the time being, and Louisa was glad to get into the
comparatively fresh air to cool herself.

"Oh, aint it hot?" she said. "Fan me," she added, offering Jim a huge
fan gaudily painted in many colors.

She unfurled it as she spoke, and put it into his hand.

"Make a breeze o' some sort," she said; "do, or I'll faint!"

Jim looked pleased and excited. He was fantastically dressed in the
stage costume in which he had shortly to appear. Alison, partly
sheltered by the curtain, could see well without being seen herself.

"The play is going splendid, Jim," said Louisa. "I'm ever so pleased."

"I am glad of that," replied Jim.

"I thought you would be. Well, I do feel a happy girl to-night."

"And when is it to be?" said Jim, bending down and looking earnestly
into her face.

She flushed when he spoke to her, and immediately lowered her eyes.

"I aint made up my mind quite yet," she said.

"But you will?" he replied, in a voice full of solicitude.

"I don't know. Would it please you if I did?"

"I needn't say that it would," was the reply. "I think it would make
me real happy."

"Well, ef I thought that----"

Louisa took her fan out of Jim Hardy's hand and began to toy with it in
a somewhat affected manner. Then her expression changed to one of
absolute passion.

"I don't think there is anything in heaven above, or the earth beneath,
I wouldn't do, Jim Hardy, even to please you for half an hour; to
please you is the light of life to me. So, if you wish it, let it
be--there! I can't say any more, can I?"

"You can't; you have said enough," he replied gravely. "There is our
call," he added; "we must go back.