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"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 show 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."
"Oh, 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."
"Oh, 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 ribbands; and you call make a white dress very handsome, if you put plenty of lace and ribbands."
"Oh, 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.
"Oh, 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?"
"Oh, 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."
"Oh, 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 feather-bed, 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 recognise at all. It was big George Linwood.
"Now are the little princes ready?" said Preston. "Because we will finish up this business."
"Oh, you won't let the feather-bed 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 feather-bed 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.