The Corner House Girls in a Play Part 40

And she did touch them. Each time that she went through the scene, and the b.u.t.terflies' wings vibrated as they bent forward, Tess' hands, which were out of sight of the audience, clutched at the other girls' sashes.

Tess was a st.u.r.dy girl for her age. Her hands at the waists of the two b.u.t.terflies steadied them as they posed on this day for the final rehearsal of the difficult tableau.

"That's it!" called out the manager. "Now! Hold it! Lights!"

The glare of the spotlight shot down upon the grouped children from above the proscenium arch.

"Steady!" shouted the stage manager again, for the whole group behind the gauze drop seemed to be wavering.

"Hold that pose!" repeated the man, commandingly.

But it was not the children who moved. There was the creaking sound of parting timbers. Somebody from the back shouted a warning--but too late.

"Down! All of you down to the stage!"

Those on the lower steps of the scaffolding jumped. The stage hands ran in to catch the others; but the higher little girls could not leap without risking both life and limb!

A pandemonium of warning cries and shrieks of alarm followed. The scaffolding pulled apart slowly, falling forward through the drop which r.e.t.a.r.ded it at first, but finally tearing the drop from its fastenings in the flies.

Swiftwing, the hummingbird, did not add her little voice to the general uproar. She was safely held by the wire cable hooked to her belt at the back.

But the b.u.t.terflies were helpless. The men who tried to seize them from the rear could not do so at first because the scaffolding structure fell out upon the stage.

The Corner House girl, frightened as she was, miraculously preserved her presence of mind. As she had already done before during the rehearsals, she seized the sashes of her two smaller schoolmates at the first alarm.

Their feet slipped from the foothold, but Tess held them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The scaffolding pulled apart slowly, falling forward through the drop. Page 238]

Neale had taught Tess, and even Dot, how to use their strength to better advantage than most little girls. Tess was sure of her own safety in this emergency, and she allowed her body to bend forward almost double, as the two frightened little b.u.t.terflies slipped from the falling scaffolding.

For a dreadful moment or two, their entire weight hung from Tess Kenway's clutching hands. Her shoulders felt as though they were being dislocated; but she gritted her teeth and held on.

And then two of the men caught the little, fluttering b.u.t.terflies by their ankles.

"Let 'em come!" yelled one of the men.

Tess loosed her grasp as the scaffolding crashed to the stage. The last to be lowered, Swiftwing came down, so frightened she could not think for a moment where she was.

"Oh, Tess, darling!" gasped Agnes.

"Sister's brave little girl!" murmured Ruth.

"I--I didn't spoil the tableau, did I?" Tess asked.

"Spoil it? My goodness, Tess Kenway," shouted Neale O'Neil, who, likewise, had run to her, "you made the biggest hit of the whole show!

If you could do that at every performance _The Carnation Countess_ would certain sure be a big success!"

CHAPTER XXIV

THE FINAL REHEARSAL

Before the tableau in which Tess Kenway had so covered herself with glory was again rehea.r.s.ed, the scaffolding was rebuilt as a series of broad steps and made much lower.

Tess was not to be frightened out of playing her part as Swiftwing, the hummingbird.

"No. I was not in danger," she reported to Mrs. Eland, when she and Dot went to see the gray lady as usual the next Monday afternoon. "The wire held me up so that I could not possibly fall. It was only the other two girls who might have fallen. But they hurt my arms."

"If you had been a _real_ hummingbird," put in the practical Dot, "you could have caught one of them with your beak and the other in your claws. b.u.t.terflies aren't very heavy."

"Those b.u.t.terflies were heavy enough," sighed her sister.

"It was splendid of you, Tess!" cried Mrs. Eland. "I am proud of you."

"So are we," announced Dot. "But Aunt Sarah says we ought not to praise her too much or maybe she'll get biggity. _What's_ 'biggity'?"

"Something I'm sure Tess will never be," said the matron, hugging Tess again. "Why so sober, dear? You ought to be glad you helped save those two little girls from a serious fall."

"I am," Tess replied.

"Then, what is the matter?"

"It's Miss Pepperill."

"Oh, dear me!" murmured Dot. "She fusses over that old Miss Pepperpot as though she were one of the family."

"Is she really worse, dear?" asked Mrs. Eland, softly, of Tess.

"They think she is. And--and, Mrs. Eland! She does call for you so pitifully! Miss Lippit told me so."

"Calls for _me_?" gasped the matron, paling.

"Yes, ma'am. Miss Lippit says she doesn't know why. Miss Pepperill never knew you very well before she was hurt. But I told Miss Lippit that I could understand it well enough," went on Tess, eagerly. "You'd be just the person I'd want to nurse me if I were sick."

"Thank you, my dear," smiled Mrs. Eland, beginning to breathe freely once more.

"You see, Miss Lippit knows Miss Pepperill pretty well. She knew her out West."

"Out West?" repeated Mrs. Eland.

"Yes, ma'am. Miss Lippit says that isn't her real name. She was a 'dopted child."

"Who was?" demanded the matron, all in a flutter again.

"Miss Pepperill. She was brought up by a family named Pepperill. Seems funny," said Tess, gravely. "_She_ lost her mother and father in a fire."