was herself. Everybody in the
audience was gazing intently, and with pleasure, at the stage.

"What's the matter?" inquired Mr. Bennet.

Arethusa nodded towards the frolicking chorus girls who were just
immediately back of the foot-lights, all with arms out-stretched to
their responsive audience, singing vociferously of unintelligible
words.

"It's.... It's the girls."

"Yes...."

"They.... They have on pa ... pajamas." She stumbled a little over the
word.

"Yes...." encouraged Mr. Bennet once more.

"They must have been resting," replied Arethusa.

"Resting?"

"Pa ... pajamas are bedclothes," she explained, blushing just a bit.

"Yes, I know," said Mr. Bennet kindly, "but I don't just see...." He
glanced back at the stage.

"I reckon they put them on to rest between the acts," continued
Arethusa, "because they must have been tired, after dancing so hard,
and the curtain must have gone up so quick they didn't have time to
change. They must be awfully embarrassed to come out before us like
that. I think it's mean to laugh at them. I wouldn't laugh for anything
myself."

The picture conjured up by this speech of Arethusa's, of the chorus
girls changing wildly to pajamas and reclining after the arduous labors
of the first act, tickled Mr. Bennet more than anything that had
happened on the stage, even the best efforts of the expensive comedian.
And the effect upon him of the idea was the very same effect that the
idea of moths and butterflies as a Topic of Conversation for Parties
had had upon Mr. Watts, when Arethusa had presented it to him at the
dinner-dance.

Mr. Bennet laughed.

His laughter was much more refined and less boisterous than that of Mr.
William Watts, but Arethusa realized, nevertheless, that he was
laughing at her. He was not laughing at the chorus girls who had been
caught unawares by a rising curtain, in garments in which they had not
intended that they should be seen; but he was laughing at her,
Arethusa. Whatever it was she had said this time that was wrong, she
had made herself ridiculous enough for the Wonderful Mr. Bennet to
laugh at her!

Her throat filled suddenly with a perfectly solid lump. Something back
of her eyes began to smart unbearably, and they filled also, filled
quickly with tears that so blinded her that she could not see even her
own shimmering lap. Her hands trembled unmanageably, until the
programme dropped from their uncertain grasp, and she fumbled about t