her songs upstairs
while Archie sat staring disconsolately at the neglected work basket
and mute piano. Rose pitied him and longed to say a word of comfort, but
felt shy he was such a reserved fellow so left him to conduct his quiet
wooing in his own way, feeling that the crisis would soon arrive.

She was sure of this as she sat beside him on the evening of the
concert, for while the rest of the family nodded and smiled, chatted and
laughed in great spirits, Archie was as mute as a fish and sat with his
arms tightly folded, as if to keep in any unruly emotions which might
attempt to escape. He never looked at the program, but Rose knew when
Phebe's turn came by the quick breath he drew and the intent look, so
absent before, that came into his eyes.

But her own excitement prevented much notice of his, for Rose was in
a flutter of hope and fear, sympathy and delight, about Phebe and her
success. The house was crowded; the audience sufficiently mixed to make
the general opinion impartial; and the stage full of little orphans with
shining faces, a most effective reminder of the object in view.

"Little dears, how nice they look!" "Poor things, so young to be
fatherless and motherless." "It will be a disgrace to the city if those
girls are not taken proper care of." "Subscriptions are always in order,
you know, and pretty Miss Campbell will give you her sweetest smile if
you hand her a handsome check." "I've heard this Phebe Moore, and she
really has a delicious voice such a pity she won't fit herself for
opera!" "Only sings three times tonight; that's modest, I'm sure, when
she's the chief attraction, so we must give her an encore after the
Italian piece." "The orphans lead off, I see. Stop your ears if you
like, but don't fail to applaud or the ladies will never forgive you."

Chat of this sort went on briskly while fans waved, programs rustled,
and ushers flew about distractedly, till an important gentleman
appeared, made his bow, skipped upon the leader's stand, and with a wave
of his baton caused a general uprising of white pinafores as the orphans
led off with that much-enduring melody "America" in shrill small voices,
but with creditable attention to time and tune. Pity and patriotism
produced a generous round of applause, and the little girls sat down,
beaming with innocent satisfaction.

An instrumental piece followed, and then a youthful gentleman, with his
hair in picturesque confusion, and what his friends