ly to her ears, which Mattie Tubbs, who tied it, had said was all
the style. Here she was, in that huge building, where the lights were so
blinding and the crowd so great that she shut her eyes involuntarily,
while she tried to realize what she could be doing.

"I'm in for it now anyhow, and if it is wrong may the good Father
forgive me," she said softly to herself, just as the orchestra struck
up, thrilling her with its ravishing strains, and making her forget all
else in her rapturous delight.

She was very fond of music and listened eagerly, beating time with both
her feet, and making her bonnet go up and down until the play commenced
and she saw stage dress and stage effect for the first time in her life.
This part she did not like: "they mumbled their words so nobody could
understand more than if they spoke a heathenish tongue," she thought,
and she was beginning to yawn when a nudge from Mattie and a whisper,
"There they come," roused her from her stupor, and looking up she saw
both Helen and Katy entering their box, and with them Mark Ray and
Wilford Cameron.

Very rapidly Katy's eyes swept the house, running over the sea of heads
below but failing to see the figure which, half arising from its seat,
stood with clasped hands, gazing upon her, the tears running like rain
over the upturned face, and the lips murmuring: "Darling Katy! blessed
child! She's thinner than when I see her last, but oh! so beautiful and
grand! Precious lambkin! It isn't wicked now for me to be coming here,
where I can see her face again."

It was all in vain that Mattie pulled her dress, bidding her sit down
as people were staring at her. Aunt Betsy did not hear, and if she had
she would scarcely have cared for those who did look at her, and who,
following her eyes, saw the beautiful young ladies, behind whom Wilford
and Mark were standing, but never dreamed of associating them with the
"crazy thing" who sank back at last into her seat, keeping her eyes
still upon the box where Helen and Katy sat, their heads uncovered and
their rich cloaks falling off just enough to show the astonished woman
that both their necks were uncovered, too, while Helen's arms, raised to
adjust her glass, were discovered to be in the same condition.

"Ain't they splendid in full dress?" Mattie whispered, while Aunt Betsy
replied:

"Call that full dress? I'd sooner say it was no dress at all! They'll
catch their death of cold. What would their mother say?"