"

"Don't wiggle so, Blue Bonnet," she commanded, as that young person
squirmed under the rigorous treatment she was receiving. "I'll have you
looking like a Chinaman in a minute if you don't hold still. I've got to
take that eyebrow off--it slants too much. There--that's better! Isn't
it, Wee? Wait a minute."

She stood at a distance and contemplated Blue Bonnet thoughtfully.

"You have to study your subjects," she said finally, "to get good
results. You're not red enough yet, Blue Bonnet. You can stand a lot of
color."

Blue Bonnet protested.

"It isn't necessary that I should look like a house afire, is it? I'm
not going to have another bit, Sue, and you needn't insist. Uncle Cliff
would have a fit if he could see me; and Aunt Lucinda! mercy, she'd
think I was disgraced forever. Ugh! I think I look a fright!"

She held the mirror up to her face and frowned into it impatiently.

Sue explained.

"But you've _got_ to do it, Blue Bonnet. Why, you'd look ghastly behind
the footlights without any color. Come now--please. Wet your lips and
put them out--so! There, that's fine. Wee, turn up the lights on the
stage and take a look at Blue Bonnet. Go to the back of the room. See
if you think she's made up too much."

"Perfectly lovely!" Wee called a moment later. "You're just
b-e-a-utiful! Your best friends will never know you." Which very
doubtful compliment went unnoticed in the general rush and excitement.

"Now, do be careful," Sue cautioned as Blue Bonnet gave her seat to
Helen Renwick, who stood patiently waiting, cold creamed to the proper
consistency. "And don't, under _any_ circumstances, use your
handkerchief. You'll look like a painted sunset at close range if you
do. Grease paint's terribly smeary. Please be careful, won't you?"

Blue Bonnet passed out into the wings where Wee was giving instructions
right and left.

"Oh, Wee," she said, "I'm scared to death! I believe I'm threatened with
stage fright. Do you know how it comes on? Feel my hands."

She laid an icy lump in Wee's warm palm tremblingly.

"Absurd!" Wee said. "Did you think you caught it--like measles or
chicken-pox?"

"I think it's caught _me_, Wee. I feel so sort of choky--and queer."

"You'll get over it. Don't worry. You look too sweet for words. Take a
peek at the stage. It's a dream."

It was a pretty setting. Along the light green walls were white
curtained windows in whose boxes grew bright, red roses, and swinging
from the