se he feels very
badly about it."

"But people are not killed because they cannot pay money," said Nora. "I
have seen people come to papa for money, and they didn't do anything to
him because he hadn't it."

"No, but--those were different times," said Daisy--"and Bassanio lived
in a different country. His friend owed money to a dreadful man, who was
going to cut out two pounds of his flesh to pay for it. So of course
that would kill him."

"O, look at Theresa now!" said Nora.

The young lady had brought her muscles into order; and being clever
enough in her merry way, she had taken the look of the character and was
giving it admirably. It was hardly Theresa; her moveable face was
composed to such an expression of simple inquiry and interest and
affectionate concern. The spectators applauded eagerly; but Nora
whispered,

"What does she look like that, for?"

"Why, it's the picture," said Daisy. "But what does she _look_ so for?"

"She is Bassanio's wife--they have just got married; and she looks so
because he looks so, I suppose. She does not know what is in the
letter."

"Is he going to tell her?"

"Not in the picture--" said Daisy, feeling a little amused at Nora's
simplicity. "He did tell her in the story."

"But why don't we have all the story?" insisted Nora.

"O, these are only pictures, you know; that is all; people dressed up to
look like pictures."

"They don't look like pictures a bit, _I_ think," said Nora; "they look
just like people."

Daisy thought so too, but had some faith in Preston's and Mrs.
Sandford's powers of transforming and mystifying the present very
natural appearance of the performers. However, she was beginning to be
of the opinion that it was good fun even now.

"Now, Daisy,--come, we must practise putting _you_ in position," said
Mrs. Sandford. "We will take something easy first--what shall it
be?--Come! we will try Priscilla's courtship. Where is your John Alden,
Preston?"

Preston quietly moved forward Alexander Fish and seated him. Daisy began
to grow warm with trepidation.

"You must let your hair grow, Sandie--and comb out your long curls into
your neck; so,--do you see? And you will have to have a dress as much as
Priscilla. This tableau will be all in the dress, Mrs. Sandford."

"We will have it. That is easy."

"Now, Alexander, look here, at the picture. Take that attitude as nearly
as you can, and I will stroke you into order.--That is pretty
well,--lean ov