estra
halfway through a swift waltz, and the audience, buttoning coats and
struggling with gloves, was pouring up the aisles. Duncan, through all
his anger and apprehension, felt a little thrill of superiority over
these departing playgoers as he and his stepmother were admitted behind
the scenes. He was young, and the imagined romance of green-rooms and
footlights appealed to him.

The company, suddenly summoned, appeared in various stages of street
and stage attire. Peg, a handsome young woman with brilliant color and
golden hair, still wore her brocaded gown and patches, and wore, in
addition, a slightly affronted look at this unprecedented proceeding.
The other members of the cast, yawning, slightly curious, were grouped
about in the great draughty space between the wings that it cost Duncan
some little effort to realize was the stage.

From this group, as Margaret followed the stage manager into the circle
of light, a little woman suddenly detached herself, and, running across
the stage and breaking into sobs as she ran, she was in Margaret's arms
in a second.

"Oh, Meg, Meg, Meg!" she cried, laughing and crying at the same time.
"I knew you'd come! I knew you'd manage it somehow! I've been praying
so--I've been watching the clock! Oh, Meg," she went on pitifully,
fumbling blindly for a handkerchief, "he's been suffering so, and I had
to leave him! They thought he was asleep, but when I tried to loosen
his little hand he woke up!"

"Mary--Mary!" said Mrs. Coppered, soothingly, patting the bowed
shoulder. No one else moved; a breathless attention held the group. "Of
course I came," she went on, with a little triumphant laugh, "and I
think everything's ALL right!"

"Yes, I know," said Mrs. Penrose, with a convulsive effort at
self-control. She caught Margaret's soft big muff, and drew it across
her eyes. "I'm ru-ru-ruining your fur, Margaret!" she said, laughing
through tears, "but--but seeing you this way, and realizing that I
could go--go--go to him now--"

"Mary, you must NOT cry this way," said Mrs. Coppered, seriously. "You
don't want little Phil to see you with red eyes, do you? Mr. Wyatt and
I have been talking it over," she went on, "but it remains to be seen,
dear, if all the members of the company are willing to go to the
trouble." Her apologetic look went around the listening circle. "It
inconveniences every one, you know, and it would mean a rehearsal
tonight--this minute, in fact, when every one'