't anyone to take her
place in the solo parts, and it is too late now to drill the children
for anything else. It's even worse now, with Glen down sick so's Elspeth
can't help get up some other program."

"What kind of exercises were you going to have, may I ask? You have had
such hard work to keep from telling me at different times that I thought
perhaps it was a secret."

"Elspeth wanted it as a surprise, you know, so I thought it would be
better not to talk about it even with you. Do you care?"

"Not a bit, dearie, only I had an idea that possibly I might take
Elizabeth's place for a few days, with Aunt Pen's help. She used to be a
famous driller for children's entertainments, and I know she would be
more than pleased to have her finger in this pie, for she admires your
young preacher very much, while Beth is an old friend of hers. The
children could come here to rehearse--"

"Oh, but wouldn't that be fine! You do have the splendidest thinks!
Who'd take Miss Kinney's part? That's the most important of all. Would
you?"

"I? Oh, Peace, how could _I_ take part--a cripple? I haven't been
outside these gardens for years."

"It's time you had a change, then. It wouldn't hurt you to be rolled
down the street in your chair, would it?"

"So everyone could see and pity me?" The voice was full of scathing
bitterness.

"So everyone could know and love you, my Lilac Lady! They couldn't
_help_ loving you. I wanted to hug you the first time I ever laid eyes
on you, and I don't feel any different yet."

"All the world is not like you."

"No, I reckon it ain't, 'cause there's millions and millions of
pig-tailed Chinamen and little brown Japs, and Esquimeaux who take baths
in whale oil 'stead of water, which ain't a bit like me. But I'm
speaking of 'Merican children. They'd love you for the way you sing and
tell stories first, most likely; but when they came to know you
yourself, they'd like just the bare you. Tony and Ethel and Lottie and
George and all the rest of the Home children can't talk enough about
you, and Miss Chase says they're 'most wild to think you want 'em to
come every week steady this summer. She says a person like you can do
'em more good now than years of sermons after they are older. She calls
you the children's 'good angel.' I meant to tell you before, 'cause I
thought you'd like to know, but somehow this fuss of Elspeth's made me
forget everything else. Say! Why couldn't we get the Home children to