the draperies for one thing, and some of
them wouldn't unroll quickly, while others threatened to tumble down on
the servants' devoted heads.

"Well, we'll just have to let them go for to-night," said Nita Reese
dejectedly at last. She was chairman of the committee. "To-morrow we'll
fix them all up again, the way Madeline says is right, and you three
must come over and do that part of the scene again. Is everybody ready?"

"Miss Amelia Minchen isn't," said Betty, "She just came in carrying her
costume."

"Then go and help her hurry into it," commanded Nita peremptorily.
"Madeline, will you fix Ram Dass's turban? He's untwisted it again of
course. Georgie Ames, line up the Seminary girls and the Carmichael
children, and see whether any of their skirts are too long. Take them
down on the floor. Everybody off the stage, please, but the
scene-shifters."

"Oh, Nita," cried Polly Eastman, who had just come in, rushing
breathlessly up to the distracted chairman, "I'm so sorry to be late,
but some people that I couldn't refuse asked me down-town to dinner. I
ate and ran, really I did. And Nita, what do you think----"

"I'm much too tired to think," returned Nita, wearily. "What's happened
now?"

"Why, nothing has actually happened, only I was at the station this
afternoon, and I asked the shoe-shine man about the monkey, and he
hasn't heard, but he told the organ-man that the play began at half-past
eight, and all the trains have been horribly late to-day, so if he should
plan to get in on the eight-fifteen----"

"Have him telegraph that it begins at six," said Nita, firmly. "Go and
see to it now."

"Why, I did tell him to," said Polly, sighing at the prospect of going
out again. "Only he's so irresponsible that I think we ought to
decide----"

"Go and stand over him while he telegraphs," said Nita with finality.
"We can't understudy a monkey. Josephine Boyd, come here and go through
your long speech. I want to be sure that you get it right. It didn't
make sense the way you said it yesterday."

"Oh, Nita." It was Lucile Merrifield holding out a yellow envelope.

Nita clutched it frantically. "Perhaps she's not coming. Wouldn't I be
relieved!"

"It's not a telegram," explained Lucile, gently, "only the proof of the
programs that the printer has taken this opportune moment to send up.
The boy says if you could look at it right off, why, he could wait and
take it back. They want it the first thing in the morning."