Rosalie Dare's test

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Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I The Little New Friend.9

II Bert and Guarda.30

Chapter I

W HITE clouds lazily floating across the blue sky, wiry grass blowing in the soft breeze, and a little girl running, skipping, as bright, as cheery as the sun¬ light on the grass.

How gay she was!

Her brown eyes were laughing, her short brown curls were flying, as she hurried toward the little bluff that overlooked the bay.

Up over the hot sand and coarse grass she went, sturdily persisting until she reached the highest part of the bluff.

B08ALIE BABE ^8 TE8T where beyond the trees she saw a line of hills, purple in the distance.

She stood looking off across the bay, beyond the buildings of the little town, and distant trees, to those still more distant hills.

Hills at home to wonder about, and more hills here to wonder more about,’’ she whispered.

Little Eosalie Dare wondered about many things, but she never saw distant hills without wondering what lay hidden behind them.

‘‘The hills I see from our porch at home are the ones that hide the house where Aunt Cynthia lives,” she thought.

“I wonder what those hills are hiding? I’ll ask Uncle Bruce, and maybe he’ll teU me that another of my aunts lives there.”

She laughed softly.

‘‘Aunt Cynthia’s house isn’t just behind those hills at home,” she said. “Uncle Bruce says that Aunt Cynthia lives a long way beyond those hills, not just behind them.”

Another little girl, unseen by Rosalie, had been steadily climbing the sandy slope to the bluff.

Rosalie was still looking out across the water when a voice behind her startled her.

“Where’s the other little girl?” it de¬ manded.

Rosalie turned.

A slim little figure stood gazing at her, with round eyes.

“What other little girl?” she asked as

easily as if the stranger were one of her

playmates, instead of a child whom she had never seen before.

^‘The one you were talking to,” the girl said promptly.

^^Oh, I know what you mean,” Rosalie said with a laugh. was just telling myself something. There was no other little girl here with me.”

The grey eyes looked puzzled for a sec¬ ond, then dropping to her knees, the new girl crept to the edge of the bluff, and, holding fast to the wiry grass, peeped over.

Evidently satisfied, she crawled back to where she had first stood, and sprang to her feet.

thought maybe she was hiding down over the edge. I do, sometimes.”

^^Who?” Rosalie asked.

‘‘Other girl,” said the stranger.

“I told you there was no other girl,” Rosalie said, vexed that what she had said should be questioned.

‘‘I know that, but all the same, I looked,’’ was the pert reply.

‘‘You didn’t believe me?” Eosalie said, her cheeks very red.

“No,” said the other, “an’ I’m no worse’n you, for you didn’t b’lieve me when I said I often hid just over the edge. You didn’t say anything, but you looked don’t b’lieve, just as plain as any¬ thing, but I can prove it. Want to see me do it?”

“No, oh no!^^ cried Eosalie clasping her hands, and shaking her head.

“Well, I’m going to,” said the other girl, and over the edge she went, thrusting her toes into crevices, while keeping a firm hold on the tough, wiry sod.

Still holding tightly, she ducked her head.

“Now you can’t see me!” she cried.

no I Come back!’’ shrilled Rosalie.

There was no reply, but after a moment the new girl’s head appeared over the edge, and then, slowly she made her way up to firm ground and safety.

<<There!” she cried, seating herself near Rosalie. ‘^We 'believe each other now! We can be friends. My name is Guarda Mc¬ Lean. What’s yours?”

^‘Rosalie Dare.”

‘‘Oh, what a pretty name,” cried the little girl. “It’s finer than mine, but I had to be ‘Guarda’ because there has always been a Guarda McLean in our family.”

She said it rather primly, and Rosalie wondered if it were fine to have a long line of ancestors all bearing the same name. The little girl spoke as if she thought so, and Rosalie wondered why.

The little girl leaned forward, and looked up in her face.

^‘Are you going to live here?’’ she asked, eagerly, adding; do hope you are.”

‘‘Oh, just a few weeks,” Rosalie said, smiling.

^‘And then?” Guar da questioned.

“And then,” repeated Rosalie, “I’ll go home with Aunt Constance and Uncle Bruce, and next I’ll be going to Aunt Cynthia’s for the winter.”

“And I’ll live right here with Aunt Belinda at the shore,” Guarda said, “and I love the shore.”

“I love it, too,” agreed Rosalie, “and I love to watch the vessels and wonder where they’re going. See that sail out there!”

“There always are sails in sight,” said Guarda, “and I never tire of watching them.”

“When I go to Aunt Cynthia’s,” said

Eosalie, ‘‘I’m to go to private school, and I’m to study music, and dancing. Won’t that be fun?”

“Ye-s,” Guar da said slowly. “I’d like to have music lessons, hut I don’t care Inuch for school. I can’t seem to get inter¬ ested in the studies.”

“Wouldn’t you like to learn to dance?” Rosalie asked.

“I can dance now.”

“Oh, fine!” cried Eosalie, “Who taught you?”

“There was a lady here two years ago who had been on the stage. She was stay¬ ing at the hotel, and one day she passed our house, and saw me skipping around while Uncle Bob sat on the porch playing the pipes.

“I didn’t know how to dance, and was hopping about, keeping time to the music, but she seemed to feel sure that I could learn, and she gave me lessons all summer. I can do the Highland Fling, the Sword Dance, and some hornpipes and jigs.’’

^‘Oh, fine, fine! Guarda, will you dance for me some day"?” asked Eosalie, eagerly.

‘H’ll dance for you any time you come over to my house,” said Guarda, ‘‘but the rooms in our cottage are small, so there’s not much space for dancing, and the pipes sound too loud. I’d have to dance out¬ doors for you, but next Monday night, I’m to dance over at the hotel, the ‘Sea-View House,’ and then Uncle Bob and I shall look better for the dance, because we’U both wear Scotch costumes.”

“Oh, Guarda! What time wiU you dance? Do you know?” cried Rosalie, her eyes sparkling.

‘‘Sure, I know!’’ said Guarda. “There’s to be a concert just before the ball, and there’ll be a singer, and a fine violinist, a dancer, and that’s me.”

“Next Monday night!” said Eosalie, “and I’ll tell Aunt Constance and Uncle Bruce, and I know they’ll be willing to go and take me. Oh, Guarda! I think it’s great that you can dance.”

“Maybe you won’t think it great when you see me, but the folks at the hotel seem to like to see it,” Guarda said quietly.

“You don’t act as if you thought it smart to be able to dance, but that only makes me sure you can do wonderfully, and I almost can’t wait for Monday night.”

Uncle Bruce had taken a cottage for the season at the shore, and Aunt Constance had preferred that to having rooms at the one hotel that the little town afforded.

TEE LITTLE NEW FRIEND

Now, on the porch, she stood, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking eagerly in every direction for her little niece Rosalie.

‘‘What can have kept her so long?’’ she said, softly.

She was always a bit nervous when Rosalie was out of sight. She was as fond of the child as if it had been her own.

She went back into the cosy living-room, and sat down by the window. A book that Rosalie had been reading lay open on the broad window-seat, and a wild rose that she had brought in lay on its printed page.

Aunt Constance took the rose, and for a few moments looked at its fresh beauty, then she replaced it on the book, took a long breath, and looked out across the danc¬ ing waves.

“Rosalie, little Rosalie!” she said softly,

ROSALIE DABE^S TEST

‘^What will next winter be, with yon at Cynthia’s home?”

That’s what I had in mind when I planned onr trip to California,” said Uncle Bruce, who had come in from the hall, just in time to hear what she had said.

^‘With new scenes, the time for Rosalie to return to us will seem to arrive sooner, and Rosalie, will seem even more precious to us than before.”

She’ll enjoy that fine private school, and the music, I know, and her nimble feet will surely like to dance, but tell me, Bruce, do you think Stanton will be kind to Rosalie?”

Young Stanton Gifford has been com¬ pletely spoiled by his mother, and has not the least desire to be kind to any one.

‘‘As to Rosalie, she can get along with him if any one could, but even Eosalie would lose patience, I believe, after a while.”

Out in the sunlight, a cheery voice was singing:

** Butterfly, butterfly,

Where do you dwell?

In a white lily That blooms in the deU.

Butterfly, butterfly.

Stay with me, stay!

You shall have honey And cream every day.

Eosalie ran in at the open door, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes shining.

^‘Oh, IVe just met the dearest little girl, and she can dance the Highland Fling, and jigs and ^Jiorn pies/ —why. Uncle Bruce, what^s funny? Bid you ever see any one dance a horn pie?”

surely never did,” said Uncle Bruce, as well as he could speak for laughing,

‘‘and Eosalie, dear, IVe eaten every sort of pie but ‘horn pie,’ and,”—

“Don’t tease her, Bruce,” said Aunt Constance. “It is ‘hornpipe’ that she means.”

“All right, hornpipe, then,” said Eosalie, “and she says her name is Guarda McLean, and the big ball-room at the ‘Sea-View’ is where she is to dance, and the lady who taught her was on the stage a long time except last summer, and her aunt’s name is Belinda, and may I go? Will you take me?”

“Eosalie, we are not sure where you have been all this morning, and we’ve not the least idea where you wish to go or when,” said Aunt Constance.

“I thought I told you that,” said Eosalie, “I meant to. It’s next Monday night, at the ‘Sea-View,’ and there’s to be a concert before the dance. There’ll be other people in the concert, but the one I want most to see is Guar da McLean.”

Then Rosalie told about sitting on the bluff and how the little girl surprised her.

Where does this little girl live?” Aunt Constance asked.

‘‘Oh, somewhere in this town,” said Rosalie, “and there’s one thing I forgot to tell you. Her Uncle Bob plays the pipes.”

“Fine!” said Uncle Bruce, “and did you tell her that I play the jew’s-harp beautifully?”

“Bruce, dear, please stop teasing,” begged Aunt Constance, but she was quite as amused as he.

“What is a jew’s-harp? Does he play it?” Rosalie asked.

“I never heard him,” Aunt Constance said, laughing, ^^but maybe he did play one when he was a little chap. Boys en¬ joy almost anything that makes a noise.

^^And are we going over to see Guarda dance?’’ Kosalie asked eagerly. ^^I’d so love to see her.”

‘^I’ll ask something about this entertain¬ ment, and if it is quite all right, we’ll surely go,” said Uncle Bruce. Then his eyes be¬ gan to twinkle.

^^Let me clearly understand about this entertainment,” he said. ^^The little girl is to dance, and—^what is it her uncle is on the program for? Did you say he would smoke his pipe while she dances?”

^‘Oh, Uncle Bruce! I do believe you know I didn’t say that,” cried Eosalie, laughing.

said, ‘Her uncle will play the pipes while she dances’.”

‘^Now that sounds better,’’ declared Uncle Bruce. ‘^For the matter of that, I could smoke a pipe while she danced, but I’d be far too courteous to do such a thing. Already I think better of her uncle.”

Uncle Bruce learned that the entertain¬ ment to be given at the Sea-View,” was in aid of the little church, and he came home with three tickets for Monday evening.

^‘The church is too small for much of an audience,” he said, ^^so the manager of the hotel has given the use of the ballroom, several guests have volunteered to sing, there will be a reader, and the little McLean lass will dance.

find that her uncle is prominent in the church, and is a man much liked here for his sterling character. The entertainment is entitled, ‘An Evening in Scotland,’ and I am sure we shall enjoy it.”

The maid had asked permission to go to the post-office to inquire for a letter that she had become rather anxious about.

‘‘It’s from my cousin, and it should have been here before this,” she said.

“She’s always that prompt about writin’, and I feel sure the letter hasn’t found me, down here at the shore.”

Mary returned with the letter. Her cousin, when addressing the envelope, had forgotten to send it, “Care of Mr. Bruce Travers, Surf side Cottage,” so it had re¬ mained at the office, waiting for Miss Mary Coogan to call and claim it.

“I see you have your letter, Mary,” said Uncle Bruce.

“An’ glad I am to have it,” said Mary, “as I was gettin’ anxious for all the family news, an’ the letter is full of it. Sure, my cousin was busy gettin’ ready to be married an’ delayed writin’, an’ now I do be sure I’ll not hear from her for one while.”

^‘Why, Mary, what has happened?” Aunt Constance asked kindly.

^^Happened, is it?” Mary replied.

‘^An’ if when she’s single, jist gettin^ ready to be married keeps her too busy to write, what time will she have after, an’ her marry in’ a chap with six children?”

‘‘True enough,” said Uncle Bruce, “but with six children to care for she won’t be lonesome.”

“An’ they’re little relations of hers,” said Mary. “They are the children of my cousin’s brother’s second wife’s sister.”

Uncle Bruce pressed his hand to his fore¬ head, and said it made his head ache to try to think what that relationship might be.

“What relation are they?” Eosalie asked, when Mary had gone out to the kitchen.

^^IVe not the least idea,” said Uncle Bruce, ^^and I can’t spare the time to figure it out.”

Rosalie ran out to the kitchen to see if Mary could tell her, but the maid was too busy to talk.

‘^Then you can call them cousins,” said Rosalie. ‘^That is what Hal Dana does. He told me so just before we came here. He said that any relatives that weren’t anything else, you could call cousins, and let it go at that. What did he mean by ‘let it go at that,’ do you know?”

“I can’t answer questions when I’m so busy,” Mary said, and Rosalie ran out through the hall to the porch, where she stood listening. Prom somewhere along the shore came strange sounds, like the

TEE LITTLE NEW FRIEND buzzing of a thousand bees, with a thread of melody sounding now and then above the weird, droning music.

^^Oh, Uncle Bruce! Please come out and hear this funny noise!’’ cried Rosalie, and at the same moment they heard Mary’s shrill voice exclaiming, ‘^Oh, oh, there’s that noise I heard when I passed the house where a crazy man with a plaid skirt on only half long enough for him, an’ himself was busy blowin’ wind into a bag that shrieked! Oh, oh! What kind of a town is this?”

Chapter II Beet And Guaeda

W HEN Monday came, Rosalie awoke, impatient for the time when they would be going over to the hotel.

^^How long is it before concert time?” she asked, when Mary came to call her.

^Ht’s about as long as yer patience can stand waitin’ for it,” said Mary with a laugh.

^‘Oh, that wouldn’t be any time at all,” Rosalie said, ^‘because I’d like to see Guarda dance now.”

^‘Then I advise ye to get busy with something that will keep ye busy all day, an’ the time will go so fast that, before ye know it ye’ll be on the way to the fine time at the hotel.”

It happened that the day proved to he a delightful one, and the first occurrence made Rosalie very happy.

She was dressed in her bathing-suit, and out on the porch, waiting for Aunt Con¬ stance, when a lithe little figure in a blueand-white bathing-suit came running along the board walk.

In front of the porch she looked up, and a bright smile parted her lips.

^^Oh, now I know where you live, Rosalie!” she cried ‘‘I’ve passed here lots of times, but I never saw you.”

“And I didn’t see you, Guarda. If I had seen you I’d have called to you to stay and play with me.”

“I’d stay now,” said Guarda, “but we’re all ready for the beach. Let’s go.”

^^Wait just a second for Aunt Constance. She is going with me/’ said Rosalie.

Just at that moment, the door opened, and Aunt Constance came out.

^^I’m sorry, Rosalie, hut letters have come that must be promptly answered, and I shall have to spend this forenoon writing, instead of on the beach,” she said.

^‘But this is Guarda McLean, and she stopped on her way to the beach. May I go with her?” coaxed Rosalie. ‘M’ll not go beyond the little thin sheets of water that wash up on the sand.”

^^She couldn’t get out too far, for I can swim like a fish, and I’ll look out for her,” Guarda said quickly.

Aunt Constance smiled at her eagerness. Guarda looked sturdy, and strong enough for anything.

‘^You may run along together,” she said.

‘^but watch her, Guarda. She is apt to be careless. Rosalie doesn^t mean to be, but she forgets.”

Guarda turned to wave her hand. ^‘Idl take care of her! ’ ’ she said.

‘^How old are you?” Rosalie asked.

^^Nine,” said Guarda, ^^and I’m growing fast this summer. Auntie says.”

“I’m seven,” said Rosalie, “so why did you say you could take care of me ? You’re not much larger than I.”

“Because I’m stronger than you are, and because I can swim, Rosalie, and —because I like you,” Guarda said, turning to look straight into the soft, brown eyes.

“Oh, that’s the best reason of all!” cried Rosalie, “and, Guarda, I like you.”

They clasped hands, and ran over the coarse grass to the hard, wet sand where the tide was receding, leaving tiny shells

EOSALIE DABE^B TEST behind. Wave after wave came rolling in with frothy crest curled high, then with a soft, lisping sound, crawling thinly back to join the next incoming roller.

Hand in hand they stood in the shallow water, laughing when the foam-capped waves broke against their slender legs and chasing each wave as it ebbed.

^^See that stick floating out there beyond the breakers?’’ Guar da asked.

^‘1 see it!” said Eosalie, ‘‘It bobs on every wave.”

“Well, watch me swim out and get it,” said Guarda, who had become tired of simply playing in the water.

“Oh, Guarda! Not so far!” cried Eosalie, in real fear.

“Pooh! That’s not far!” was the quick reply. “I could swim twice as far as that, yes, and more than twice that far. I could swim ’round that little point of land that comes out into the water over there, and back again, and not be the least bit tired!”

^^She could!” agreed a small boy who had come up behind them. know she could, for IVe seen her do it, an’ that’s more than I can do and I’m a boy, but she’s Scotch, so she’s tougher.”

^‘Are you tougher, or stronger if you’re Scotch? Oh, how I do just tvish I were Scotch!” Rosalie said promptly.

‘^So do I,” said the boy, ^^but we boys like girls we have to take care of.”

^^Why do you?” Rosalie asked in sur¬ prise.

^^Oh, I don’t know exactly, but I think it makes us feel big to take care of girls that aren’t as strong as we. The strong girls are good fun to play with, but the ones that need us,—oh, I don’t know how to say it.”

He blushed, and looking down, began scraping the wet sand into little hills with his shoe.

Rosalie watched him for a moment, then laying her small hand on his arm, she peeped at his downcast eyes, and asked:

^‘What is your name? You didn’t tell us.”

‘H’m Berton Russell, but every one calls me ^Bert.’ ”

^‘Then I’ll call you Bert,” Rosalie said, ‘^and does Guar da—Why, where is she?”

The boy turned.

^^Out there!” he cried, laughing, and pointing to where her head peeped above the water.

^^Oh! oh!” cried Rosalie, catching her breath. ‘^Get some one to go out after her! Go quick! Quick!^^ need of that,’’ the boy replied care¬ lessly, ‘‘for look! She’s coming back now. Hurray! See her laughing at us.”

Eosalie stood with tightly clasped hands, and staring eyes, watching Gruarda’s com¬ ing.

With wonderful speed for so small a girl, she swam straight toward them, then scrambling from the surf, she raced along over the hard, wet sand, waving the drip¬ ping stick high above her head as a trophy.

“I brought it back!” she cried, “Not because it was worth saving, but just so you’d know I truly did go out as far as that.”

That was the first of many mornings on the beach, and Eosalie found herself less, and less afraid of the water, with its wildly dancing waves. Now, instead of frightening her, it charmed her.

‘^Come in and begin to learn to swim,” said Guarda. ‘^Come! I’ll bold fast to you.”

“Not now,” said Rosalie. “Some other time.”

Bert laughed.

“That’s the way I felt, before I learned to swim,” he said. “I was never ready when some one wanted to teach me. I’d always promise to begin next day, and when the next day came, I put it off till the next.”

“You needn’t tease Rosalie,” Guar da said. “She isn’t afraid. She just thinks she’d rather begin another day, and we’ll be glad to help her anytime.”

“I didn’t mean to tease,” Bert said, “I was only honest enough to own that I was afraid, at first, to try to swim, and I was. ’ ’

Rosalie slipped her hand into his. “I

I BROUaHT IT BACKI”

SHB CRIED.— Page 37.

don’t mind what you said, I was a bit afraid,” she said.

We’ll go out just a little way, the first time,” said Gruarda.

Rosalie smiled, but she did not say any¬ thing. She thought it fine to he able to swim, she liked to see Guarda making her way through the waves, but she was con¬ tent to remain on the shore, at play in the shallow water.

She was hoping that they would not try to coax her to go farther than she dared, so when she saw Aunt Constance coming toward her, she was glad to say ^^I’ll have to go now. I’ll see you to-night, Guarda.”

^^All right,” cried Guarda, ^‘and Bert is coming, too.”

They were both laughing when she looked back at them.

What was the joke?

ROSALIE DABE^S TEST

There was a letter from Aunt Cynthia, and while much of its contents would not in any way interest Rosalie, there was one page that Aunt Constance knew she would enjoy, so after lunch, she read that part aloud:

‘‘Tell Rosalie that I shall expect to see her here on September, the tenth, and as Stanton’s school does not open until Octo¬ ber ten, there will be plenty of time for my small son to become well acquainted with his Cousin Rosalie.”

“Oh, what fun!” cried Rosalie.

Aunt Constance laid the letter on the table, and looked earnestly at the little eager face.

“Rosalie, dear, there is one thing that I think I ought to tell you. You have heard Aunt Cynthia talk a great deal about her small boy, and I think she really believes him to be very sweet-tempered.

‘‘Rosalie, dear, you must try to be patient with Stanton if you are to please Aunt Cynthia, and enjoy the winter there.

“Stanton will be at home when we reach there, and in a month will go off to private school.”

“Truly I’ll be patient,” Rosalie prom¬ ised, “but just what is he likely to do?”

“Almost anything that occurs to him,” said Uncle Bruce, who had just entered.

Rosalie was silent for a moment, then she said:

“Aunt Constance says I’U have to be patient, and you say he’s likely to do almost anything that he thinks of. Now, Uncle Bruce, I do truly b’lieve Stanton and I will be good friends.”

“I hope you will, dear,” said Uncle Bruce, “and Cynthia, I know, will do all that she can to make your visit pleasant.

Aunt Blanche Davenport wishes you to visit her, and then there is Aunt Lucia Curtis who feels sure that you should come to her for a long visit. Doubtless in each place, there will be things that are different from what you have been accustomed to in our cosy home, but you will find pleasures in the different homes, and I know that each of your aunts will do her best to make you happy.’’

^‘And I’ll do my best,” said Rosalie, and she hummed a gay snatch of song as she ran out to the porch.

^‘Rosalie is so winsome, I sometimes won¬ der if she will actually shame Stanton into behaving half-way decent,” said Aunt Con¬ stance.

‘‘Rosalie could do it if any one could,” Uncle Bruce replied, “but Stanton seems like a boy whom not even the greatest kind¬ ness could move.’’

‘‘Well, I am very glad that he is to be away at school during the greater part of the season,” said Aunt Constance.

Uncle Bruce laughed softly.

“If I were visiting Cynthia, and I heard that Stanton would not be at home at all, i^y joy would be unbounded.”

“BruceI” cried Aunt Constance.

“Well, the youngster is certainly dis¬ agreeable,” said Uncle Bruce, “and the less I see of him, the better pleased am I.”

Rosalie thought evening would never come, but it did.

Dinner was rather late, and after that the moments flew. Soon they were dress¬ ing for the entertainment, and then they slowly strolled along the beach to the hotel “Sea-View.”

The first numbers on the program inter¬ ested the grown-ups, but the boys and girls did not enjoy the lady, who sang up to a very high note, so shrilly that one small boy covered his ears with his hands, nor did they care for the short, and very fat little man, who sang a bass solo with a voice so powerful that it seemed impossible that it could belong to anything less than a giant.

Uncle Bruce pointed to the next number on the program, holding it so that Eosalie could see.

^^Oo—o!” she said softly, her brown eyes shining, and her hands tightly clasped.

A tall, broad-shouldered man in High¬ land costume came out on the stage, and after a glance at the audience, began to play the old familiar melody for the ‘‘Fling.’’

Eosalie caught her breath when a boy

BERT AND GVARBA and girl in Scottish costume came running out together.

‘^It’s Bert and Guardal” she whispered, but no one heard her, for every one in the large audience sat closely watching the nimble dancing of the two children.

It was clever work, and the boy and girl danced equally well.

The applause was generous, and Guarda and Bert repeated the dance.

^‘Oh, Uncle Bruce!’’ whispered Rosalie when the dancers had raced from the stage: ^‘Weren’t they wonderful? May I learn to dance? Will they let me dance to differ¬ ent music ? Piano, or violins I like, but the bagpipes sing through their noses.”

^^I’ll answer some of those questions when we reach home, dear,” whispered Uncle Bruce, smiling.

^‘WiU they dance again?” Rosalie asked.

and Uncle Bruce once more pointed to the program, but this time his forefinger touched a line on the second part.

^‘Spanish Dance. Gruarda McLean and Berton Russell,’’ she read.

Rosalie leaned back in her seat, and studied the frescoed ceiling.

The painted garlands of roses up there where the lights were shining looked far more interesting than the stout man on the platform who was thanking the people for their attendance, and telling them how very glad he was to be present.

Next to appear were two very slender girls, who played a piano duet, then an¬ other song rendered by the soprano, and another bass solo by the little fat man.

Rosalie wondered how many times they were to sing.

She was counting the roses in the garland on the ceiling just above the stage.

u Three pink ones, next two red ones, then three more pink ones, and—’’ she stopped whispering and sat upright.

A pretty girl at the piano was playing the first measures of a Spanish waltz, and somewhere, just out of sight, tamborines were tinkling, ^^Ting-ting! Ting-ting!’’

‘^They’re coming!” she whispered, lean¬ ing forward.

What fine little Spanish people they seemed to be, in their bright, gaudy cos¬ tumes ! How graceful their movements, how clever their steps!

Uncle Bruce turned to look at Rosalie.

Her lips were parted, and her eyes were sparkling, as she leaned eagerly forward, watching every step.