and whirled off to Highacres.

Isobel, who loved dramatic situations in real life quite as well as in
make-believe, planned to conceal her radiance until her first appearance
on the stage, when she would startle them all, and especially Lysander,
with her dazzling loveliness. She stood in a shadow of the wings with
her coat wrapped about her. Except for Jerry, waiting to do her humble
part, she was alone. She listened to the ceaseless chatter in the
dressing-room with a happy smile. She heard Mr. Oliver, the coach,
giving sharp orders. There was some trouble with the curtain. She took a
quick step forward to see what it was; the high heel of her satin
slipper caught in a coil of rope from the staging and she fell forward
to her knees. With the one thought to save the satin gown, she jerked
her body quickly backward.

"Oh, Isobel, are you hurt?" Jerry was at her side in a moment.

"N-no, only----" Isobel managed to get to her feet, but she leaned
dizzily against the scene propping. "Whoever left that old rope here!
They ought to be reported!" She glared angrily at poor Jerry as though
the fault must be hers. "I've--I've ruined my dress," she sobbed.

Jerry examined the satin skirt. "There isn't the tiniest spot, Isobel.
But are you sure you are not hurt? Please try to walk."

That was exactly what Isobel did not want to do, for there was a
horrible aching pain around her knee. Then she heard Mr. Oliver's voice
again. The curtain had been fixed; in a moment----

"_Leave_ me alone! You'd just _like_ it if I couldn't go on----"

"Isobel! Oh, here you are." Dana King stuck his head around the corner.
Isobel let her cape drop to the floor. The whiteness of her face only
added to the pleasing effect. "_Whew!_" Lysander whistled. "Some class!
Say, you're _great_! Come on--old Oliver's throwing a fit."

With Jerry's anxious eyes and Dana King's admiring gaze upon her, it was
possible for Isobel to walk out upon the stage. Somehow or other she got
through her part--miserably, she knew, for again and again Mr. Oliver
made her repeat her lines and once, in despair, stopped everything to
ask her if she was ill, and did not wish to have Miss Lee take her part.
Isobel did not intend giving up her part to anyone; she gritted her
little white teeth and went on.

Upon arriving home she declined the hot cocoa Mrs. Westley had waiting
for her and hurried to her room on the plea of being very tired. She sat
huddled in her dressing