How the following day passed Dorothy did not want to remember. From the early morning, when she sent the telegram to Mr. Travers, stating that Tavia could not possibly leave, and that a letter to follow would explain, until the hour set for the charity performance, the girl was in one continuous whirl of excitement.  
Ned's accident did not prove to be as serious as had been feared, although there was no possibility of him being about for several days, at least.
 
In the excitement and emergency Tavia had marshaled all her individual forces, and proved herself to be a friend and chum of Dorothy Dale. With her change of heart—her resolution to "stick to Dorothy"—there seemed to come to her a new power, or, at least, it was a return of the power with which she had been .
 
So the final work of preparation was , and now it seemed to be merely a matter of raising and lowering the curtain.
 
The characters which Ned was to have impersonated were divided among the other young men, it being necessary of course, to "double up" on three or four parts. Agnes Sinclair openly her loss of a partner, but the others smiled incredulously when she said she preferred to play with Ned and "hated that big bear, Tom Scott."
 
Tom made this his excuse for being particularly "" with the pretty Agnes, and at the afternoon he nearly went through the big picture frame, in which the illustrations were posed, when he attempted to introduce a little "business" in "The all Forlorn."
 
Then when Roland attempted to do "There was a Man in Our Town," another of Ned's parts, his efforts were so absurd and so unlike what the was expected to be, that it was to make it "I Had a Little Husband, no Bigger than my Thumb." Roland certainly looked enough to fit into a pot, and also seemed to do as he might be told with the drum.
 
Finally all was arranged, or rearranged, and the hour for the play was almost at hand.
 
No more weather could have been wished for. It was clear and cold, while outside a big silvery moon threw a fairy-like illumination over the scene, and filtered in through the big windows of the drawing-room of the home of Mrs. Justin Brownlie.
 
Dorothy laughed her light, happy laugh. After all, perhaps everything would come out right—it was such a relief to feel that Ned would soon be better. The worry about him was the very worst part of her troubles. Then, suddenly, like the of an unpleasant dream, the thought of Tom's midnight visit flashed before her mind.
 
"Oh, I didn't tell you, Tavia," she said quickly. "I had the awfullest scare the other night. I just stole downstairs to see how Ned was, when all at once some one rapped at the vestibule door."
 
Tavia gazed upon Dorothy, pride and beaming in her deep, hazel eyes.
 
"Oh, you needn't tell me, Doro," she interrupted. "I saw the midnight marauder, as the poets say. Lucky for him he stood directly under the light."
 
"Wasn't it—wasn't it kind of him to be—so—so anxious?" went on Dorothy, making fast her scarf picking up her pretty party-bag.
 
"Perhaps," Tavia, smiling broadly.
 
"Tom's the sort of fellow who dares to do right, no matter what happens. He would as soon call at midnight as midday, if the occasion warranted it. And that's saying a good deal for Tom—from me," she concluded.
 
Nat was waiting at the door. He took particular pains to be nice to Tavia. In fact, most of the difficulties that had for some weeks been accumulating about The seemed to take wings with the occurrence of Ned's accident. The oft-quoted saying about an "ill wind" was once more being verified, although it was hard for Ned to be left at home.
 
The house was already crowded when our friends arrived at Mrs. Brownlie's.
 
"We will have a good attendance," commented Dorothy with a smile of satisfaction. "If we can only make our hundred dollars, and then get little Bennie into the hospital, how lovely it will be!"
 
"There must be a hundred persons here now," Nat assured her, "and at a dollar per——"
 
"Oh, do hurry along," interrupted Eva Brownlie. "We are all waiting for you, Dorothy. We were worried to death for fear something else dreadful might have happened."
 
Eva surely looked like an angel. She was in white, her hair hanging loosely over her shoulders, with a band of gold, in Roman style, confining it at her brow.
 
Roland was dancing attendance on Eva—any one could see that he was fascinated by the pretty twin. Tom came up to Dorothy as she entered the broad hall.
 
"How's the boy?" he inquired . "Has he forgiven me yet?"
 
"Of course," replied Dorothy, smiling. "He's getting better. But it was hard to leave him alone with his hurt—and Norah. Not that Norah is to be classed with the injuries," she hurried to add, laughing merrily.
 
"They are waiting for the orchestra," Tom reminded her, taking her music and escorting her to the piano.
 
The girls, with their violins, were already in place. Dorothy felt some in facing a room filled with those she considered critical spectators, for the best society of all the Birchlands, as well as cultured persons from Ferndale near by, had come to the entertainment.
 
The Brownlie girls played the violins. Dorothy gave them the "A" note, and they put their instruments in , with that , fascinating combination of chords which the opening strains of music. Then they began.
 
The first number received a generous encore, and the girls played again. Then there was a suppressed of expectancy—a picture was about to be presented.
 
Slowly the curtains were aside. The lights had been "" as Nat, the stage manager, expressed it, and only a dim glow the tableau.
 
An immense gilt frame, containing a landscape as a background. In front of that the living pictures were posed. It was Spratt and his Wife—presented by Tavia and Roland.
 
The audience instantly recognized the illustration, and vigorous applause greeted the tableau. Tavia was surely funny—so fat, and so comical, while Roland looked like a human toothpick. The clean platter was cleaner than even Mother Goose could have wished it, and, altogether, the first picture was an unqualified success.
 
Tavia was shaking with nervousness when the curtain was pulled together, and when, in response to an demand from the audience, it was parted again, Tavia could scarcely keep from laughing . It was one of the difficult pictures, but the girl's talent for stood her in good stead, while, as for Roland, he seemed too lazy to make any blunders.
 
Tom, as "Jack Horner," came next. Fat! Numbers in the audience insisted that he was the original "Roly-poly," but the big paper-covered pie all further a............