ou want to come out with me?" Dorothy asked.

"Yes. If I may," answered Ruth. "Will you wait here in the wings till
I have finished singing, and then we can go out together. I come right
after you on the program."

"I am anxious to see Miss Winter's dance," said Dorothy.

"And so am I, and to hear that trio sing," answered Ruth.

"Do you want to see the stage?" called Mr. Dauntrey. "Come now, if you
do. Mr. Ludlow wants you all to go and try it out; that is, I mean,
practice making an entrance."

The girls walked over in the direction in which Mr. Dauntrey led.

"Oh!" exclaimed Ruth, when the vista of the stage came into view.
"Isn't it pretty!"

"It is, indeed," acquiesced Dorothy.

The stage was a spacious one. To the right was placed the grand piano,
around which palms were artistically arranged. In the centre, and way
to the rear, as a background, hung a large American flag. On each side
of the flag ran a regular column of palms. Little plants and flowers
were on the stage in such profusion as to transform it into a
veritable fairyland.

"Wasn't that a nice idea to put the flag back there?" said Ruth.

"I think the stage decorations are very artistic, and I am sure with
such surroundings, everyone should do their very best," said Mr.
Dauntrey.

Just then they looked at the clock in the wings and saw that it was
8.15 p. m., the time announced to commence. They all walked off the
stage and back into the wings.

As the curtain arose, Miss Robbia advanced to do her part.

Just then Dorothy heard Mr. Ludlow say, "I think the President is
here."

"Oh, I hope he does come," answered Miss Ruth.

But Dorothy, as she went back to await her turn, was not quite so
sure. It seemed a serious thing to play before the greatest dignitary
in the land.

The first number at last was finished, then the second, then it was
Dorothy's turn. When she was on the stage, she looked out into the
audience and there, sure enough, in the large, beautifully decorated
box, sat the President and his party.

Surely the presence of such a notable guest should prompt her to do
her best. She wondered if the fact of his being there would make her
nervous. Then she thought of Jim and of what he would say, and then
once launched upon her theme, she forgot everything else. Her whole
soul, it seemed to the audience, was engulfed in her art. Never had
instrument fashioned by hand been more responsive to human touch.

When she had finish