The great day came, and the evening of the day; and June dressed Daisy for the party. This was a simple dressing, however, of a white cambrick frock; no finery, seeing that Daisy was to put on and off various things in the course of the evening. But Daisy felt a little afraid of herself. The perfected arrangements and preparations of the last few days had, she feared, got into her head a little; and when June had done and was sent away, Daisy kneeled down by her bedside and prayed a good while that God would help her not to please herself and keep her from caring about dress and appearance and people\'s flatteries. And then she got up and looked very wistfully at some words of the Lord Jesus which Juanita had shewed her first and which she found marked by Mr. Dinwiddie\'s pencil. "The Father hath not left me alone; for I do always those things that please him."

Daisy was beginning to learn, that to please God, is not always to seek one\'s own gratification or that of the world. She looked steadily at the words of that Friend in heaven whom she loved and wished to obey; and then it seemed to Daisy that she cared nothing at all about anything but pleasing him.

"Miss Daisy—" said June,—"Miss Nora is come."

Away went Daisy, with a bound, to the dressing-room; and carried Nora off, as soon as she was unwrapped from her mufflings, to see the preparations in the library.

"What is all that for?" said Nora.

"O, that is to shew the pictures nicely. They will look a great deal better than if all the room and the books could be seen behind them."

"Why?"

"I suppose they will look more like pictures. By and by all those lights on the stand will be lighted. And we shall dress in the library, you know,—nobody will be in it,—and in the room on the other side of the hall. All the things are brought down there."

"Daisy," said Nora looking at the imposing green baize screen, "aren\'t you afraid?"

"Are you?" said Daisy.

"Yes—I am afraid I shall not do something right, or laugh, or something."

"O, but you must not laugh. That would spoil the picture. And Mrs. Sandford and Preston will make everything else right. Come and see the crown for Ahasuerus!"

So they ran across the hall to the room of fancy dresses. Here Ella presently joined them with her sister, and indeed so many others of the performers that Preston ordered them all out. He was afraid of mischief, he said. They trooped back to the library.

"When are they going to begin?" said Nora.

"I don\'t know. O, by and by. I suppose we shall have tea and coffee first. People at a party must get through that."

To await this proceeding, and indeed to share in it, the little company adjourned to the drawing-room. It was filling fast. All the neighbourhood had been asked, and all the neighbourhood were very glad to come, and here they were, pouring in. Now the neighbourhood meant all the nice people within ten miles south and within ten miles north; and all that could be found short of some seven or eight miles east. There was one family that had even come from the other side of the river. And all these people made Melbourne House pretty full. Happily it was a very fine night.

Daisy was standing by the table, for the little folks had tea at a table, looking with a face of innocent pleasure at the scene and the gathering groups of people, when a hand laid gentle hold of her and she found herself drawn within the doctor\'s arm and brought up to his side. Her face brightened.

"What is going on, Daisy?"

"Preston has been getting up some tableaux, Dr. Sandford, to be done by the young people."

"Are you one of the young people?"

"They have got me in," said Daisy.

"Misled by your appearance? What are you going to play, Daisy?"

Daisy ran off to a table and brought him a little bill of the performances. The doctor ran his eye over it.

"I shall know what it means, I suppose, when I see the pictures. What is this \'Game of Life?\'"

"It is Retsch\'s engraving," Daisy answered, as sedately as if she had been forty years old.

"Retsch! yes, I know him—but what does the thing mean?"

"It is supposed to be the devil playing with a young man—for his soul,"
Daisy said very gravely.

"Who plays the devil?"

"Preston does."

"And who is to be the angel?"

"I am to be the angel," said Daisy.

"Very judicious. How do you like this new play, Daisy?"

"It is very amusing. I like to see the pictures."

"Not to be in them?"

"I think not, Dr. Sandford."

"Daisy, what else are you doing, besides playing tableaux, all these days?"

"I drive about a good deal," said Daisy. Then looking up at her friend with an entirely new expression, a light shining in her eye and a subdued sweetness coming into her smile, she added—

"Molly is learning to read, Dr. Sandford."

"Molly!" said the doctor.

"Yes. You advised me to ask leave to go to see her, and I did, and I got it."

Daisy\'s words were a little undertone; the look that went with them the doctor never forgot as long as he lived. His questions about the festivities she had answered with a placid, pleased face; pleased that he should ask her; but a soft irradiation of joy had beamed upon the fact that the poor cripple was making a great step upwards in the scale of human life. The doctor had not forgotten his share in the permission Daisy had received, which he thought he saw she suspected. Unconsciously his arm closed upon the little figure it held and brought her nearer to him; but his questions were somehow stopped. And Daisy offered no more; she stood quite still, till a movement at the table seemed to call for her. She put her hand upon the doctor\'s arm, as a sign that it must hold her no longer, and sprang away.

And soon now all the young people went back again to the library. Mrs.
Sandford came with them to serve in her arduous capacity of dresser.
June attended to give her help.

"Now what are we going to do?" whispered Nora in breathless excitement. "What is to be the first picture? O Daisy, I wish you would get them to have my picture last of all."

"Why, Nora?"

"O because. I think it ought to come last. Aren\'t you afraid? Whew! lam."

"No, I don\'t think I am."

"But won\'t you want to laugh?"

"Why?" Daisy. "No, I do not think I shall want to laugh."

"I shall be too frightened to laugh," said Jane Linwood.

"I don\'t see, Daisy, how you will manage those queer wings of yours,"
Nora resumed.

"I have not got to manage them at all. I have only to keep still."

"I can\'t think how they will look," said Nora. "They don\'t seem to me much like wings. I think they will look very funny."

"Hush, children—run away; you are not wanted here. Go into the drawing-room—and I will ring this hand bell when I want you."

"What comes first, aunt Sandford?"

"Run away! you will see."

So the younger ones repaired to the drawing-room, for what seemed a weary time of waiting. Nora expressed her entire disapprobation of being shut out from all the fun of the dressing; she wanted to see that. She then declared that it would be impossible to shew all the twelve pictures that evening, if it took so long to get ready for one. However, the time was past at length; the signal was given; the lights in the drawing-room were put down, till the room was very shadowy indeed; and then, amid the breathless hush of expectation, the curtain that hung over the doorway of the library was drawn back.

The children thought it was fairy-land.

Frederica Fish sat there facing the company, quaintly dressed in antique costume; and before her knelt on one knee two grand-looking personages, very richly attired, presenting a gilt crown upon a satin cushion. Lady Jane Grey and the lords who came to offer her the kingdom The draperies were exceedingly well executed and did Mrs. Sandford great credit. They were the picture.

"Isn\'t she beau-tiful!" Nora exclaimed under her breath.

"Isn\'t it like a picture!" said Daisy.

"How funnily those boys kneel and twist themselves round!" said Jane.
"Who are they?"

"Daisy, wouldn\'t you like to be dressed every day like that?" said Nora.

"I don\'t think it would be convenient," said Daisy. "I think a white frock is nicer."

"O but it makes people look so handsome! Frederica looks like—she is a real beauty! I should like to be dressed so. Daisy, don\'t you suppose queens and ladies, like those in the pictures, are always dressed so?"

"I suppose they put on nightgowns when they go to bed," said Ella
Stanfield soberly. "They can\'t always be dressed so."

"O but, I mean, when they are up. And I dare say they wear beautiful nightgowns—Daisy, don\'t you think they do? I dare say they have splendid lace and ribands; and you can make a white dress very handsome, if you put plenty of lace and ribands."

"O it\'s gone!" exclaimed Jane and Ella. The curtain had fallen. The company clapped their hands and cheered.

"What\'s that for?" said Nora.

"That means that they like it, I suppose," said Daisy. "You will have to go now, Nora, I know. Little Red Riding-Hood comes next. Come—we\'ll all go."

"Horrid Little Red Riding-Hood!" said Nora. "I hate that picture!"

"Why do you hate it?"

"Because!—It is nothing but a red hood."

Mrs. Sandford\'s bell sounded.

"O Daisy!" said Nora as they went, "won\'t you get them to leave Esther to the last? They will do whatever you ask them. Do!"

"Why, Nora?"

"O because!—"

What Nora\'s "because" meant, Daisy did not know; that it had reference to some supposed advantage of place, was pretty certain. Daisy stood thinking about it while she saw Nora dressed, and then ran into the drawing-room to take the effect of the tableau. The curtain was withdrawn; Daisy was astonished; she had no idea that Nora could be so changed by a little arrangement of lights and dress. The picture was exceeding pretty. Nora\'s black hair and bright cheeks peeped out from under the shadowing red cardinal, which draped her arms also—Mrs. Sandford had mysteriously managed it. She had got over her hatred of the part, for she looked pleased and pleasant; and the little basket in her hand and the short petticoat and neat little feet completed a tidy Red Riding-Hood. The applause was loud. "Lovely!" the ladies said. "What a sweet little thing! how beautiful she looks!" Nora did not smile, for that would have hurt her picture; but she stood with swelling complacency and unchanging red cheeks as long as the company were pleased to look at her.

"Who is that, Daisy?" asked her father, near whom Daisy had stationed herself.

"It is Nora Dinwiddie, papa."

"She is a pretty little girl. When does your turn come?"

"I do not know, papa."

"Not know! Why I thought all this was your affair."

"O no, papa; it is Preston\'s affair."

Off ran Daisy however when the curtain fell, or rather when it was drawn, to see the getting ready of the next tableau. There was something of a tableau on hand already. June stood holding up a small featherbed, and two little figures in white nightgowns were flying round, looking and laughing at two exceedingly fierce, bearded, moustached, black-browed individuals, on whose heads Mrs. Sandford was setting some odd-looking hats.

"Who are those, Nora?" said Daisy to Little Red Riding-Hood.

"Daisy, did you like it? did I stand well?"

"Yes, I liked it very much; it was nice. Nora, who are those two?"

"Why one of \'em is Preston—I don\'t know who the other is. Daisy, did you ask about Esther?"

Could it be possible that Preston had so transformed himself? Daisy could hardly see that it was he. His fellow she did not recognize at all. It was big George Linwood.

"Now are the little princes ready?" said Preston. "Because we will finish up this business."

"O you won\'t let the featherbed come down on us?" cried Jane Linwood.

"If you don\'t be quiet and keep still, I will," said Preston. "Let only your eye wink or your mouth move to smile—and you are an unlucky prince! I am a man without mercy."

"And I am another," said George. "I say, old fellow, I suppose I\'m all right for that French pikeman now, hey? After this smothering business is attended to."

"You think the trade is the thing, and the costume a matter of indifference?" said Preston. "In the matter of morals I dare say you are right;—in tableaux before spectators it\'s not exactly so. Here June—hand on your big pillow there—"

Mrs. Sandford was laughing at him, and in fact there was a good deal of hilarity and some romping before the actors in the tableau could be settled in their places.

"Don\'t keep us long," said Preston. "I never knew before what an uninteresting thing a featherbed is—when you are obliged to hold it in your arms. Everything in its place, I find. I used to have a good opinion of them."

Daisy ran back to the drawing-room, and was utterly struck with wonder at the picture over which all this fun had been held. It was beautiful, she thought. The two children lay so naturally asleep, one little bare foot peeping out from under the coverings; and the grim faces that scowled at them over the featherbed with those strange hats overshadowing, made such a contrast; and they were all so breathlessly still, and the lights and shadows were so good; Daisy was disposed to give her verdict that there never was a play like this play. The "Princes in the Tower" was greatly applauded.

"Have you asked about my picture?" said Nora, who stood beside Daisy.

"No, I have not had a chance."

"Do, Daisy! I want that to be the last."

Daisy thought she was unreasonable. Why should Nora have the best place, if it was the best. She was not pleased with her.

The next picture was Marie Antoinette; and that drew down the house. Frederica Fish had nothing to do but to stand as she was put, and Mrs. Sandford had seen to it that she stood right; another person might have done more in the picture, but that was all that could be got from Frederica. Her face was coldly impassive; she could come no nearer to the expression of the indignant queen. But Preston\'s old woman, and Theresa\'s pretty young French girl; one looking as he had said, with eyes of coarse fury, the other all melting with tenderness and reverent sympathy; they were so excellent that the company were delighted. Frederica\'s handkerchief, it is true, hung daintily in her fingers, shewing all the four embroidered corners; Mrs. Sandford had not seen it till it was just too late; and Preston declared afterwards the "fury" in his face was real and not feigned as he glared at her. But the company overlooked the handkerchief in favour of the other parts of the picture; and its success was perfect.

"Alfred in the neat-herd\'s cottage" followed next, and would have been as good; only that Nora, whose business it was to blow her cheeks into a full moon condition over the burnt cakes, would not keep her gravity; but the full cheeks gave way every now and then in a broad grin which quite destroyed the effect. Preston could not see this, but Daisy took her friend to task after it was over. Nora declared she could not help it.

"You don\'t know how it felt, Daisy, to keep my cheeks puffed out in that way. I couldn\'t do it; and whenever I let them go, then I couldn\'t help laughing. O, Daisy! is my picture to be the last?"

"I will see, as soon as I can, Nora." Daisy said gravely. It was her own turn now, and while Mrs. Sandford was dressing her she had no very good chance to speak of Esther. How wonderfully Mrs. Sandford arranged the folds of one or two long scarfs, to imitate Sir Joshua Reynolds\' draperies. Preston declared it was beautiful, and so did Hamilton Rush; and when the little helmet with its plumes was set on Daisy\'s head, Mrs. Sandford smiled and Preston clapped his hands. They had still a little trouble to get Dolce into position. Dolce was to enact the lion, emblem of courage and strength, lying at Fortitude\'s feet. He was a sensible dog, but knowing nothing about playing pictures, naturally, did not immediately understand why it should be required of him to lie down there, on that platform of green baize, with his nose on his paws. However, more sensible than some animals of higher order are apt to be, he submitted patiently to the duty of obedience where he did not understand; and laid down accordingly his shaggy length at Daisy\'s feet.

The curtain was drawn aside, and the company shouted with delight. No picture had been so good yet as this one. The little grave figure, the helmet with its nodding plumes in mock stateliness; the attitude, one finger just resting on the pedestal of the broken column, (an ottoman did duty for it) as if to shew that Fortitude stood alone, and the shaggy St. Bernard at her feet, all made in truth an extremely pretty spectacle. You could see the faintest tinge of a smile of pleasure on the lips of both Mr. and Mrs. Randolph; they were silent, but all the rest of the people cheered and openly declared their delight. Daisy stood like a rock. Her mouth never gave way; not even when Dolce, conceiving that all this cheering called upon him to do something, rose up and looking right into Daisy\'s face wagged his tail in the blandest manner of congratulation. Daisy did not wince; and an energetic "Down, Dolce, down!"—brought the St. Bernard to his position again, in the very meekness of strength; and then the people clapped for Daisy and the dog together. At last the curtain fell.

[Illustration]

"Well, that will do," said Mrs. Sandford.

"Dolce—you rascal!" said Preston, as the great creature was now wagging his tail in honour of his master,—"how came you to forget your business in that style, sir?"

"I do not think it really hindered the effect at all, Preston," said
Mrs. Sandford. "Daisy kept her countenance so well."

"Yes,—if Fortitude had smiled!—" said Theresa, "Mrs. Sandford, is it out of character for Fortitude to smile?"

"It would be out of character for Portia, just at this crisis—so take care of her."

"What made them make such a great noise, Daisy?" said Nora while Daisy was getting undressed.

"I suppose they liked the picture," said Daisy.

"But they made a great deal more noise than they did for anybody else," said Nora.

"I suppose they liked the picture better than they liked any of the others," said Ella Stanfield. "I know they did, for I was in the other room. Come, let\'s go see this picture!"

"Not you, Daisy," said Mrs. Sandford as the children were running off—"I want you. Priscilla comes next."

So Daisy had to stay and be dressed for Priscilla. She missed Portia and Bassanio. It was not much missed, for her little heart began to be beating with excitement; and she wished very much that Priscilla might be as much liked as Fortitude. The dressing was an easy matter, for the costume had been prepared for her and a gown and vandyke made on purpose. Would Alexander dare to wink this time, she wondered? And then she remembered, to her great joy, that he could not; because his face would be in full view of the people behind the scenes in the library. The little brown spinning-wheel was brought on the platform; a heap of flax at which Priscilla is supposed to have been working, was piled together in front of it; and she and Alexander took their places. The curtain was drawn aside, and a cry of pleasure from the company testified to the picturesque prettiness of the representation. It was according to the fact, that Priscilla should be looking in John Alden\'s face; it was just at the moment when she is supposed to be rebuking him for bringing to her his friend\'s suit and petition. Thinking herself safe, and wishing to have the picture as good as possible, Daisy had ventured to direct her eyes upon the face of Alexander Fish, who personified the Puritan suitor. To her horror, Alexander, who............