"It's some sort of a swindle to raise money for her class to buy some
silly thing to stick up in the school house hall to remember them by. I
don't know whether it's now or next week, but there's something of the
kind to be done."
"Well, it's to-night," said Wesley, "and we are going. It's my treat,
and we've got to hurry or we won't get in. There are reserved seats, and
we have none, so it's the gallery for us, but I don't care so I get to
take one good peep at Elnora."
"S'pose she plays?" whispered Margaret in his ear.
"Aw, tush! She couldn't!" said Wesley.
"Well, she's been doing it three years in the orchestra, and working
like a slave at it."
"Oh, well that's different. She's in the play to-night. Brownlee told me
so. Come on, quick! We'll drive and hitch closest place we can find to
the building."
Margaret went in the excitement of the moment, but she was troubled.
When they reached the building Wesley tied the team to a railing and
Billy sprang out to help Margaret. Mrs. Comstock sat still.
"Come on, Kate," said Wesley, reaching his hand.
"I'm not going anywhere," said Mrs. Comstock, settling comfortably back
against the cushions.
All of them begged and pleaded, but it was no use. Not an inch would
Mrs. Comstock budge. The night was warm and the carriage comfortable,
the horses were securely hitched. She did not care to see what idiotic
thing a pack of school children were doing, she would wait until the
Sintons returned.
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