Theresa was so transformed that nobody would have
known her; and while the company laughed and applauded, Daisy came back
to her usual self; and slid out of her father's arms when the show was
over, all ready for supper and Nora Dinwiddie.
There was a grand supper, and everybody was full of pleasure and
complimentary speeches and discussion and praise of the tableaux. That
was among the elder portion of the company. The four or five children
were not disposed to such absolute harmony. Grapes and ices and
numberless other good things were well enjoyed, no doubt; but amidst
them all a spirit of criticism was rife.
"Daisy, your wings didn't look a bit like real wings--" said Jane
Linwood.
"No," echoed Nora, "I guess they didn't. They were like--let me see what
they were like! They were like the wings of a windmill."
"No, they weren't!" said Ella. "I was in the drawing-room--and they
didn't look like a windmill a bit. They looked queer, but pretty."
"Queer, but pretty!" repeated Nora.
"Yes, they did," said Ella. "And you laughed when you were Red
Riding-hood, Nora Dinwiddie."
"I didn't laugh a bit!"
"It is no matter if you did laugh, Nora," said Daisy;--"you got grave
again, and the picture was very nice."
"I didn't laugh!" said Nora; "and if I did, everybody else did. I don't
think the pictures I saw were at all like pictures--they were just like
a parcel of people dressed up."
Some gay paper mottoes made a diversion and stopped the little mouths
for a time; and then the people went away.
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