Reginald knew that the ball had been on his desk when he had left the schoolroom, and he could not think how it could have disappeared unless some one had helped it to do so.
Again he searched in his desk, but the ball was not there. He put away the books which he had taken out, and closed his desk, looking up just in time to see that Arabella was closely watching him. How queer she looked! She was not laughing, but she seemed to be amused.
"I b'lieve I know where my ball is," he whispered; "I just know Arabella took it, and p'r'aps that was what she dropped over the wall."
"What are you saying?" whispered Arabella, but Reginald only shook his head.
"I guess I won't tell her," he thought, "but right after school I'll look."
When school was out he lingered, hoping that the girls would hurry off, and thus leave him free to search behind the wall where he believed Arabella had hidden his ball.
It was useless to wait. The girls sat upon the wall talking until Reginald was out of patience, and when at last they started for home, Katie insisted that he must go with her.
"You know mamma said that we were to hurry home from school," she said.
"You weren't hurrying when you were sitting on this wall," said Reginald.
"But I forgot, so I'm hurrying now," Katie replied, and grasping his hand, she commenced to run very fast, laughing because he looked so unwilling.
That night there was a heavy shower that drenched the trees and left clear little puddles in the road.
Reginald reached the cottage just in time to avoid being late.
The lessons went smoothly until the readers were opened. It was a charming story, but there were many long words which puzzled the pupils.
"The water nymphs paused in the moonlight to watch the fountain spray," was the opening sentence of the paragraph which Reginald was to read, but the letters were spaced so that the s and p were not close together in "spray." Reginald read it as it appeared:
"'The water nymphs paused in the moonlight to watch the fountains pray.'"
"Why, how could they?" he asked, "how could fountains pray?"
The class was amused, but Arabella laughed long and loudly, and Aunt Charlotte was obliged to speak forcibly to her to check her merriment. The small boy was angry.
"I'll get even with her; see 'f I don't," he thought.
Indeed he could hardly wait to punish Arabella for her rudeness.
"May I leave the yard?" he asked at recess time, "I've thought of one place I'd like to hunt for my ball."
He was off like a flash, and the girls returned to their game.
"It's your turn, Dorothy," Nancy said, and Dorothy entered the ring.
"From this ring that has no end
You may choose a little friend,"
sang the merry voices, and Dorothy looked from one to another. She would have liked to choose Nancy, but she thought how few of the girls ever chose Arabella, and she held out her hand to the playmate who seldom was favored.
If Arabella was pleased she did not show it. She took her place in the ring, however, and looked at the merry faces that circled around her.
"You are next the favored guest,
Choose the friend you love the best."
"Choose?" How could she choose? She never liked to do a pleasant thing for any one, and whomever she called into the ring would feel favored.
"Hurry, and choose some one, Arabella," called Mollie Merton, but still Arabella stood sullenly staring at her shoes.
Mollie was ready again to urge Arabella to choose, when the gate flew open, and Reginald, breathless and excited, rushed in. Aunt Charlotte was standing in the walk, watching the pretty game. Reginald ran to her, holding out something very wet and dripping.
"I didn't find my ball, but I guess this is the di'logue book you couldn't find," he said.
The red and gold cover was blistered, and its fine color had almost disappeared.
Aunt Charlotte looked her surprise.
"Where did you find it?" she asked.
"Down behind the wall, where I saw somebody drop it," he said, looking sharply at Arabella.
Of course they all looked at Arabella, who hesitated for a moment, then pushing past the girls, she ran down the walk to the gate, looking over her shoulder to call to Aunt Charlotte:
"I've got to go home, 'cause my head aches."
"I wonder what Aunt Charlotte will do about the book?" whispered Mollie.
"Why, what could she do?" Flossie asked in surprise.
"Why, Flossie Barnet! You saw the cover all spoiled. Don't you s'pose she'll-"
But Mollie's question was hushed by the silvery tinkle of the bell which told that recess was over.
Arabella did not return for the afternoon rehearsal, but she entered the class-room on the next morning as calmly as if nothing had happened, and she seemed very eager to show her interest in the dialogue by appearing at all the other rehearsals.
* * *
Exhibition day had arrived, and parents and friends were seated before the tiny stage, waiting for the curtain to rise.
Dorothy had sung two songs very sweetly, Nancy had danced for them, and had charmed them with her grace, Nina and Jeanette had played a duet, and now, yes, the curtain was rising!
Every one leaned forward to catch the first glimpse of the stage-setting, and in the midst of the excitement, a small, prim figure entered the room, and made its way toward the only seat which was still unoccupied. It was beside Flossie's Uncle Harry, and as the woman took the seat he turned, and then moved to make extra room for her.
"That must be Arabella's Aunt Matilda!" he whispered to his wife.
"Hush-sh-sh!" she whispered.
"It not only must be, but it is!" he declared, and he offered her his programme.
Aunt Matilda was not wholly pleased with his courtesy, and had half a mind to refuse it, but few could resist his winning smile, and reluctantly she kept it.
"Aunt Matilda looks as if she were angry because she is not included in the dialogue," whispered Uncle Harry, to which his lovely young wife replied:
"She'll hear you, if you aren't careful; now do give your attention to the stage."
"I'm simply all ears," he whispered, and at that moment, the children ran on, entering from either side.
The pretty scene represented a little grove, in which the school girls had gathered to summon the queen of the fairies, who might grant the dearest wish of each.
The first fairy to appear was Green Feather, an elfin page or messenger, and Reginald made a perfect sprite, in his green suit, and cap with a long, green quill.
He took the message which the girls wished to send to the queen, and then hurried away to summon her, while the school girls chanted a magic verse which should aid her to appear quickly.
"Fairy queen, we wait for thee,
Willing subjects we will be.
Come! Thou'lt find us at thy feet,
We would beg, ay, and entreat
That our wishes thou wilt hear,
When thou dost indeed appear.
Now we draw a magic ring,
'Come, fair queen,' we gaily sing."
With a silver-tipped wand they drew a circle upon the ground, and scarcely was it finished when Jeanette ran out from between the mimic trees, and sprang into the circle, a dazzling figure, all white and silver, and blue. Upon her long, dark hair rested a tiny gold crown, and in her hand she carried a gold wand which was wound with strings of pearls.
"Thou, with voice so silvery clear,
I your dearest wish will hear."
As Jeanette spoke the lines she held her wand above Dorothy's head.
"Song! Ah, let me always sing
For the peasant, or the king,
For the ones I hold most dear,
For all hearts that I may cheer,"
sang Dorothy, in her clear, light little treble, and very winning she looked, as she extended her hand toward the fairy whom she implored to grant her wish.
"Sing you shall, in tones so clear
That the very birds shall hear,
And, in envy, cease their lay
While your melody holds sway."
As Jeanette chanted the verse, she waved her wand, and Dorothy, entering the circle beside her, sang a fairy song which delighted all who listened.
The woman beside Uncle Harry seemed ill at ease, crumpling her programme, and moving restlessly upon her seat as if the little play bored her.
Uncle Harry stooped, and picked up the fan which had dropped from her lap. She looked at him as if she thought that he had intended to steal it, then, relenting, she screwed her thin lips into something like a smile.
"Thank ye," she said, as she took the fan, and glanced at his pleasant face.
Uncle Harry wished that she would speak again.
"I wish she'd give us some of her 'views,'" he whispered to his wife, "Arabella says she has plenty of them."
"Oh, Harry, hush, unless you want her to hear you."
"I wouldn't mind," he whispered, his blue eyes twinkling with merriment.
Just at that moment, the fairy queen seated herself upon her woodland throne, and as the girls knelt before her, the red curtain rolled slowly down, hiding the little stage.
The first act was finished, and now, in the few moments before the curtain would rise, the buzz of voices whispered approval of the pretty play.
Arabella's prim little aunt looked furtively toward her neighbor. He smiled encouragingly, and she ventured to speak.
She was a little old lady and he was tall and stalwart; his handsome face was youthful, and she wished him to know that she thought him a mere boy.
"Young man, do you approve of this play-acting?" she asked.
"Oh, surely," he replied. "Who would care to see professionals, if he might, instead, see children trying to act?"
She eyed him sharply to learn if he were joking, but his manner was so dignified that she did not dream that he was amused.
"Well, I think if we had these exhibitions often the children would grow to be just too pert for anything. I have my views about play-acting, and as my niece is a pupil here, I'm just a little anxious about how this school is run. Have you any small sisters here?" she asked.
His eyes were dancing.
"I've no small sisters," he said, "and as my little daughter is but nine months old, I've not yet sent her to school."
"Your daughter? Well, I declare! Why, I thought you were an overgrown boy!" she said, bluntly.
"Alas! That's what my wife frequently calls me," he said, and from his manner one might have thought that he deeply regretted the fact.
"If your wife is here, young man, I should think she'd see you talking to that pretty girl beside you," said the little woman, sharply.
"Oh, she rather likes it," he said, with a soft laugh, "you see that pretty girl is my wife." Aunt Matilda stared.
"Wouldn't you like to meet her?" he asked; "this is such a very informal gathering that I might venture to present her, if only I knew your name."
"I'm Arabella Corryville's aunt," she said, without realizing that that was not telling her name.
"Vera," he said, "allow me to present you to Arabella's aunt; madam, this is my wife!"
The ladies bowed, and the younger woman spoke very cordially, then the curtain went up and every eye turned toward the stage.
It was in the last act that Arabella entered from the right, and all were surprised when in a clear voice, and with appropriate gestures, she spoke her lines, making quite as good an impression as any of her schoolmates.
During the early part of the dialogue Arabella had not been on the little stage, and her doting aunt felt injured, because she believed that the other children had been given the most important parts. She had expressed her disapproval of "play-acting" to Uncle Harry.
Now all was different; Arabella had appeared, had spoken well, and the applause which she received completely changed Aunt Matilda's mind.
"Granted our wishes,
Happy hearts have we;
True to our fairy queen
Ever we'll be,"
sang the children, and then once more the red curtain hid the tiny stage.
"On second thoughts, I guess play-acting is rather a fine thing if it's well done," Aunt Matilda said, "an' I guess my Arabella did 'bout as well as any of 'em. I shouldn't wonder if she could be a great actress if she chose. Not that I'd want her to be one; no indeed, but it's pleasant to think that she could."
"Oh, certainly," said Uncle Harry. "It would be most delightful if we could be sure that, at ten minutes' notice, Arabella could become the world's greatest actress; that by gently beckoning to him, the most obdurate theatrical manager would bow abjectly before her."
"Well, I guess so," the prim little woman said, not quite understanding his meaning, but thinking the speech, as a whole, rather grand.
The little entertainment had been a success, and Aunt Charlotte received very warm congratulations for the fine work which her little pupils had done.
As they strolled homeward, the guests talked of the numbers which had most delighted them.
Uncle Harry, wag that he was, had found Aunt Matilda quite as amusing as the music, the pretty dance which Nancy had contributed, or the fairy dialogue. He was expecting every moment that his young wife would gently upbraid him for his raillery, and he had not long to wait. As they turned in at their own gateway, she looked up at him.
"Harry," she said, "you have a merry heart, and I would not for the world have you more quiet, but sometimes you carry your jokes too far. Dear, will you tell me why you did not mention that strange woman's name? You introduced her as Arabella's aunt."
"My dear, that's who she said she was; she didn't tell me her name, so how could I tell you?"
"But you did not tell her my name; you introduced me as your wife."
"Well, surely you are my wife; as she omitted to state what her name was, I wouldn't tell her yours. Simply evening things up, that's all."
"What an idea!" she said, but she could not help laughing at his little joke.