Amarilly's young heart fluttered wildly and sent a wave of pink into her
pale cheeks as she voiced her gratitude.

She was the first to enter when the doors opened that afternoon, and she
kept close to the heels of the usher.

"He ain't agoin' to give me the slip," she thought, keeping wary watch
of his lithe form as he slid down the aisle.

In the blaze of light and blare of instruments she scarcely recognized
her workaday environment.

"House sold out!" she muttered with professional pride and enthusiasm as
the signal for the raising of the curtain was given. "Mebby I'd orter
give up my seat so as they could sell it."

There was a moment's conflict between the little scrubber's conscience
and her newly awakened desires.

"I ain't agoin' to, though," she decided. And having so determined, she
gave her conscience a shove to the remotest background, yielding herself
to the full enjoyment of the play.

The rehearsal had been inspiring and awakening, but this, "the real
thing," as Amarilly appraised it, bore her into a land of enchantment.
She was blind and deaf to everything except the scenes enacted on the
stage. Only once was her passionate attention distracted, and that was
when Pete in passing gave her an emphatic nudge and a friendly grin as
he munificently bestowed upon her a package of gum. This she instantly
pocketed "fer the chillern."