had not been mistaken. "I really look pretty," repeated Rosetta Muriel,
and, for the first time in her life, realized the aesthetic possibilities
of simplicity.

Her lingering grudge against Peggy in part dissipated by her scientific
discovery, vanished completely when Peggy removed the rain-coat and the
heavy veil which had obscured her charms. Peggy's make-up was very
successful in effacing every suggestion of youth and girlish prettiness.
Artistically designed wrinkles made her look seventy-five at the least
computation, and suggested in addition, a quarrelsome disposition.
Rosetta Muriel took one look, and gave way to giggles.

"My goodness, but you _are_ a sight," said Rosetta Muriel, entirely
forgiving Peggy for the prohibition of the apple-green silk. "Is that a
wig you've got on?"

"Nothing but corn-starch," replied Peggy, piling her wraps in the
corner. "Now, Elaine, you see, Aunt Abigail will sit right here, so you
needn't be one bit nervous about forgetting. Hear the people coming. I
believe we're going to have a full house."

This pleasant expectancy was confirmed by the continued and increasing
shuffling of feet over the bare schoolhouse floor and the hum of voices.
The time of waiting was somewhat trying for all the performers,
especially for the novices. Lucy Haines, whose part consisted of a dozen
sentences or less, grew gradually paler and paler, till she looked like
anything but a footlight favorite. Rosetta Muriel smoothed her apron and
adjusted her cap with the regularity of clockwork, till it began to look
as if both these serviceable articles would be worn out before the
little bell gave the signal for drawing the curtain.

All at once the hum of voices outside took on a menacing volume. Behind
the curtain the girls were unable to distinguish a word, but judging
from the sound, an altercation was in progress. "What can be the
matter?" demanded Peggy, turning a startled face on the others.

"Nothing to worry about, child," said Aunt Abigail soothingly. "Probably
some of those young farmers are having some noisy fun." But the loud
voices did not impress Peggy as suggesting good-natured nonsense. And
her apprehensions were presently confirmed by Jerry Morton, who slipped
under the curtains and came hurrying toward her. The boy's face was
flushed, and he was breathing fast.

"It's that Cherry Creek crowd," he exclaimed. "They're going to spoil
everything."

"The Cherry Creek crowd?" Peggy repe