ew where
to find you and so to-day when the girls were wondering what had become
of you I told them I knew and they asked me if I would come and see you
and ask you if you would make the costumes for our Christmas play.
It's to be a queer sort of play, and we want very original costumes,
and, of course, you are the only person in the world that can advise
us." Poor Phyllis was forced to pause for breath, but Miss Pringle had
only time to whisper a flurried, "Oh, no young lady," before she was
off again.

"The play is all about India and the heroine--Daphne Hillis is to take
the part--is a little slave, but of course she turns out to be the
queen in the end, and Madge Cannon is to be the prince, and the
important parts will be filled by the seniors and juniors. Just a few
of our class are to be in it, but I'm one of them and so is my twin.
We look so alike that we are to be pages, you know, and,--" a sound on
the stairs made her heart stand still but she went bravely on--"I never
told you what a lark we had at our masquerade, did I? It was really a
perfect circus, everybody mixed us up,"--Miss Pringle attempted to say
something, and Phyllis interpreted it her own way.

"But of course you're more interested in the play, as you say. Well
there have to be ever so many costumes. Daphne alone has three, one
when she is the slave and another for the queen, and the third when the
king condemns her to be beheaded. It's so sad, you know. He says 'Off
with her head' and then Daphne lays her beautiful head on the block and
the executioner lifts his terrible sword and--" she stopped.

Daphne's fair head was saved by the timely arrival of Chuck, carrying
the sleeping Don.

Miss Pringle gave a scream of terror and tried to shut the door, but
Phyllis's foot made that impossible.

"Out of my way," Chuck commanded in a voice so strong that, coming as
it did on top of Phyllis's description of swords and executioners, poor
Miss Pringle lost all the little presence of mind she had. She fell
back limply, and Chuck gained the street.

Phyllis took her foot out of the door and closed it gently on the limp
figure.

"Give him to me," she begged, as she caught up with Chuck.

"He's too heavy, but look at him all you want to; it's really Don,
Phyllis, and you found him." Tears were running down Chuck's face, but
he didn't even know it.

Phyllis took one of the little hands that hung limply across his
shoulder and kissed it gen