h they were thankful to be spared the
organization of the proceedings, and to leave the brunt of the burden to
a specialist. Tickets for the entertainment had been sold in the
neighborhood, and parents and friends of the girls who lived within
motoring distance had promised to drive over.

"Cousin Clare is coming!" rejoiced Dulcie. "She has two friends staying
at the Chase, and she'll bring them with her. If Milner drives them, I
shall ask Miss Walters if he may come and watch too. He'd be _so_
delighted to see it. He loves anything of that kind. His own little girl
was May Queen at the village pageant two years ago, and he's talked
about it ever since."

"I wrote to Mr. Bowden," said Lilias, "and he's taken two tickets, but
he's doubtful if he'll find time to get off. He's always so busy."

"Never mind if he sent the money for them!" consoled Edith. "Of course
it's nice to have big audiences, but it's money we're out for. We want
to make a decent sum."

"Miss Walters says the tickets have sold quite well. Even if it's a
doubtful day, and we don't have a very big audience, we shall clear
something, at any rate."

"Oh, but I do hope people will come! It's so disappointing to take all
this trouble, and to act to rows of empty chairs. What's going to
happen, by the by, if it's a wet day? Will it be put off?"

"We shall have to have it in the big schoolroom. It can't be put off,
because Miss Adams can only stay till Friday, and we couldn't get
through it without her."

"No, indeed! She's the directing genius of it all!"

"Oh dear! It simply _must_ keep fine!"

Never was weather more carefully watched. All the old country saws and
superstitions were remembered and repeated. It became a matter of vital
importance to notice whether the scarlet pimpernel was out, if the
cattle were grazing with their heads up hill, and whether a heron flew
across the sky. Prissie took a candle into the garden last thing before
bed-time, to observe if the lawn showed earthworms; the finding of black
slugs was considered to be rather fatal, and the hooting of owls a
decidedly bad omen. The goddess of the English climate, however, is such
a fickle deity that there is never the least dependence to be placed on
weather prophecies. She always seems to prefer to give a surprise. On
the day before the performance it rained; evening closed in with a
stormy sky, and every probability of waking next morning to find a
drizzle. Dulcie, putting he