A letter came to Miss Theodosia one day. Queer how disturbing a letter could be when for so long peace had enveloped her travel-worn spirit, though it might have been because of the peace that she was disturbed. Ordinarily a letter from Cornelia Dunlap was the forerunner of interesting events to break the monotony of life. But life was not monotonous now, and it presented interesting events without the intervention—mentally and unkindly Miss Theodosia termed it interference—of Cornelia Dunlap.

"Why need Cornelia write me now, or if she does write, why can't she talk about mushrooms?" which were Cornelia's most recent palliative to her self-imposed and brief sojourns in her little home town. It had been cats when she and Miss Theodosia returned from Spain, Belgian hares after their long stay in Egypt. Miss Theodosia herself had never tried mushrooms nor Belgian hares. She had borne her short homecomings unpalliated, and had flitted again relievedly. Usually she and Cornelia Dunlap had flitted together. They had formed the flitting habit when family bereavements had left them both lonely women.

"Why must she write about Japan?" sighed Miss Theodosia now, over the disturbing letter. "What do I care about Japan?" Yet she always had cared about Japan. Cornelia Dunlap and she had left that delectable country of cherry blossoms and quaint, kimona-ed women for their old age, they said, to help them bear it. But Cornelia had forgotten that.

"Let's go to Japan," she wrote. "I can pack in twenty-four hours; how long will it take you? We'll stay there till cherry blossom time. Frankly, Theodosia Baxter, I am bored, and you needn't tell me that you aren't—frankly—too. You haven't even mushrooms (they didn't earn their own living, my dear. I don't know what the trouble was). 'My native country, thee,'—I love it. I tell you I do! You know yourself that I never stay overnight in a place without unfurling my country's flag. Remember in sunny Italy?—the little brown bambino that cheered my colors? But I love my country best—in Japan! Come, dear, pack—pack! If I can leave my mushrooms, I guess you can leave your lonesome, big house in Nowhere."

Miss Theodosia dreamed a little over her letter, of the little island of romance and flowers and fans. They did not need to wait; they could go again when they were old.

She told John Bradford at their next meeting of the lure of Japan, though in her heart she was not lured. She was not "bored"; it was not a big, lonesome house in Nowhere! She would tell Cornelia Dunlap so. She would tell her that Flaggs were better than mushrooms—they earned their own living! Cornelia could run away alone to Japan to her cherry blossoms.

But John Bradford had his scare, and through him Evangeline hers. Gloom settled on Evangeline. If her beloved lady was going away—the bitter, bitter taste of life without the beloved lady! But the inspiration that flashed into Evangeline's nimble mind temporarily comforted her. She set about its carrying-out. Inspirations were sweet morsels under Evangeline's tongue.

To Miss Theodosia on her porch, telling Cornelia Dunlap that Japan had no lure, came a solemn procession across the grass. Evangeline led, with the effect of walking backward—though she walked straight ahead—and waving a baton. Stefana had Elly Precious, and Carrathers tramped soberly behind, in time to that imaginary wand. Miss Theodosia's fascinated gaze was riveted to the procession's arms. The wonder grew with nearness. Every individual parader in the procession wore a somber black arm-band. Elly Precious held his small member straight out from his side as if a little afraid of it.

"Evangeline!" uttered Miss Theodosia. It did not occur to her to address any one but Evangeline. Instinctively she recognized that the procession was Evangeline.

"Halt!" with an imaginary flourish. "Right about your faces!" Then Evangeline turned to Miss Theodosia and offered her sad little explanation.

"We're in mournin'," she said. "All of us are—on our sleeves. Elly
Precious's doesn't stay on very well."

"Evangeline!" again cried Miss Theodosia, this time in a startled voice.
Fears beset her. Was it the mother, or had poor Aunt Sarah raveled out?
How could it have happened so suddenly—a bolt out of the clear little
Flagg skies?

"It's you," Evangeline said. Miss Theodosia settled a little in her chair and waited. In time—Evangeline's time—she would know. Elly Precious held out his rigid little mourning arm and softly whimpered.

"Give him to me, Stefana; he wants to come to me," Miss Theodosia said, extending welcoming hands. Very gently she relieved the tension of the small arm.

"We're in mournin' for you," Evangeline explained sadly. "He said we might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's—no, I guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart—on his sleeves. But he said he was in mournin', too."

Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair.

"You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"

"We're so sorry you are going to Japan, and Evangeline said we ought to go into mourning, so we went," explained the quiet Stefana.

"She cried; you know you did, Stefana Flagg! I would've, only I was gettin' the mournin' ready. I'm goin' to."

"Don't cry!" Miss Theodosia said, though she was doing it herself. The pulling of her heartstrings! "Don't cry, Evangeline dear. I wish we could take back Stefana's tears."

"You mean—you ain't goin'?"

"I ain't goin'," repeated Miss Theodosia, tremulously smiling. "Japan! I wouldn't go to six Japans!"

"Then take it off o' our arms, quick! You take off Carruthers', Stefana. I'll undo Elly Precious's. Oh, goody! Oh, mercy gracious, I feel 's if we ought to take hold o' hands an'—an' wave!"

At the end of her letter to Cornelia Dunlap Miss Theodosia wrote: "You can't tempt me with all your cherry blossoms. I've got home, Cornelia, and all my little Flaggs are waving. Come and see my Flaggs."

* * * * *

It was mid-September and Miss Theodosia found out-of-doors a pleasant place to be. She had made an errand down to the business portion of the little town for the sheer pleasure of the going and coming,—a morning errand, as the afternoons were sacred to tea,—and now was coming leisurely back, sniffing the sun-sweet air. She turned off the quiet, side street she had been using as a long way home, into the main street of the town, only to find her progress interrupted by unseemly and noisy crowds. Miss Theodosia loved all things seemly and quiet. How she despised a crowd, and this one—she brought up short in actual disgust on the outer edge of it. Thus was her stately little progress stayed. People surged about her and jostled her good-naturedly. She was in the crowd.

"What is it? Has there been an accident?" she inquired of the nearest jostler. It was a ragged and radiant child.

"Axident! Didn't ye know there was a circus? We're waitin' for the p'rade. I hear it! I hear it comin'!"

The crowd surged ahead toward the street curb. Against her will, Miss Theodosia surged, too. Loud cries filled her ears—ecstatic cries of little children. Down the usually quiet street marched, in all its brilliancy of color and tinsel and tawdry splendor, the street parade. Horses curvetted, elephants patiently plodded, huge cars of mystery swung by; clowns smirked, to the riotous joy of that awful crowd.

"See him sittin' tail to! That one there—there!"

"Look-a that one with the spotted panth! Look at him throw kitheth!"

"They's man-eatin' lions in that cage—see the lady sittin' with 'em!"

"See that man top o' the band waggin that shoots up his neck yards—quick! See him shorten it again!"

Miss Theodosia saw all, against her will. All her thirty-six years she had held aside her dainty skirts from people who went to circuses, but how could she hold them aside now? There was not room. She was caught in the swirl and noise and glee.

Suddenly a familiar voice struck her ear. Evangeline's voice! Drawn up on the curbing in a vantage-spot that only they who come early and patiently wait can secure, was the entire family of little Flaggs. At a new angle Miss Theodosia was able to see plainly their breathless ecstasy. She could hear what Evangeline was saying.

"Oh, isn't it elegant—oh, look, Stefana! Oh, don't you hope circuses'll be free in Heaven—not jus' the p'rade, but the show!"

Then and there Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed unmercifully; she could not do anything with them; they would throb. In vain she turned away—looked at other faces—listened to other voices. It was Evangeline she heard, with her wistful cry, and the little line of Flaggs that she saw.

"There's Miss Theodosia—there, there, Stefana! She's come to the p'rade!"

"Miss Theodosia! Miss Theodosia! Look, Elly Precious, quick!" And it was Elly Precious she saw, held high by eager arms. That minute she yielded to the wild impulse within. She pressed forward to speaking distance.

"Who will go to the show with me this afternoon? All in favor say aye."

"Mercy gracious, you don't honest mean—"

"Miss Theodosia!" Stefana's lean little face actually whitened.

"I honest mean. Isn't anybody going to say aye?"

"I!"

"I!"

"I!"

The joyous chorus of "I's"! The jubilant waving of every little Flagg! For the moment, the gorgeous tinseled parade was forgotten in the vaster anticipative glories of the show. Miss Theodosia's heartstrings throbbed a little louder but tunefully. She had forgotten her skirts.

Shows begin early and last long. Miss Theodosia's show began at the opening of the gates. She and her little string of followers filed in.

"Mercy gracious!" breathed Evangeline in awesome delight at the vision spread before her.

"Mercy gracious!" breathed Miss Theodosia. They were different mercy graciouses. But a miracle was on the way to her, coming straight and fast through the crowds of festive circus-goers. Very soon now—in an hour—in another moment—It arrived! Miss Theodosia felt herself yielding to the lure of the sawdust and the side shows—the pink lemonade and the balloons. She was entering in! She was not Miss Theodosia who detested crowds; in the tight grip of the miracle, she was Miss Theodosia who thrilled and enjoyed.

"Isn't it elegant? Oh, aren't you happy!" cried Evangeline.

"Aren't I!" gallant Miss Theodosia responded. She caught Evangeline's sleeve. "What is that man shouting about—there, in front of that big tent?"

"Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin' splendid! I'll go 'n' see."

"I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in hand. In a moment they were back for the rest. It was "somethin' splendid"—come! come!

They drank pink lemonade and ate ice-cream cones. Elly Precious and
Carruthers waved gay balloons. Evangeline chose a cane.

"I need one. I'm so happy I tumble over! I never was so happy 'xcept when Elly Precious stopped havin' the measles. That was as splendid as this, but it wasn't as splendid splendid. Miss Theodosia, don't you feel all beautiful and jiggy inside?"

"All beautiful and jiggy!" nodded Miss Theodosia, wondering a little whether it was all circus or some pink lemonade.

"I like the wholeness of it best," Stefana said, taking in the animated scene with an artist's eye.

"I don't! I like the every little speckness of it," Evangeline chirped. "I like that 'normous big tent an' that tiny little one—I like that balloon man—I like that little darky baby—isn't he black as the ace of space, Miss Theodosia! Oh, I like every blade o'—sawdust!" Her laugh trilled out gayly.

"But we haven't seen it yet—the show."

"Miss Theodosia! You don't honest mean we're goin' in? Stefana, she does—she means! We're goin' in!" As of course they were. The best seats in the great tented arena were none too good for them. Stefana laboriously shut up Elly Precious' go-cart, and Miss Theodosia lifted Elly Precious in her arms. In the procession they sought those best-of-all seats. What followed, even Evangeline gazed upon in silence; there were no words in Evangeline's dictionary for what followed. She sat on the edge of the best-of-all seat and drank in riders and clowns and dizzy performing fairies—an intoxicating draught.

"Miss Theodosia," in a tiny whisper.

"Yes, dear?"

"Ain't you glad you ain't dead? 'Cause you don't need to be." Which was Evangeline's way of complimenting Heaven. There was no need of dying to find out its marvels—not now. Miss Theodosia slipped one of the small hands into hers and squeezed it; squeezing established understanding. They knew—they understood.

"Well, upon my word!" a deep voice exclaimed behind them. With one accord Miss Theodosia and her Flaggs wheeled about. The Tract Man—Shadow Man—Reformed Doctor stood there, smiling. He was eating popcorn from a paper bag. Transferring the bag to Evangeline, he held out his hands for the baby.

"You here?" Miss Theodosia exclaimed stupidly.

"Yes—are you?"

Every one laughed. Laughing was so easy! Elly Precious from his lofty shoulder-post clapped small, joyous hands and crowed. In the ring a clown threw them kisses. A fairy in short, silvery skirts rode by on two horses. "Wait! Watch her—watch her!" Evangeline whispered hissingly. "She's goin' to jump through a hoop o' fire! Without burnin' up!"

John Bradford leaned forward to Miss Theodosia.

"Having a good time?" he whispered.

"Grand! Are you?"

"Hunkydory!" He might have been a boy, she a girl. These might have been little Flagg brothers—sisters.

"We must have cones—ice-cream cones," he said.

"We've had 'em," piped Evangeline.

"We must have more cones, and cracker-jack."

"We've had crackerjack."

"We must have more crackerjack. Where is the Crackerjack Boy?"

At the end of the show in the ring they took a vote and decided to stay to see it all over again. What did it matter if they had seen the tinsel fairy jump through her fiery hoop or the acrobats perform their wonders? They felt acquainted now. They were gazing, enchanted, at friends.

"My clown's lookin' at me! I'm goin' to bow to him."

"Mine's threw me a kiss!"

Stefana, more refined in taste, had adopted a beauteous creature in gold and blue, and starry spangles. Her beauteous lady waved a scepter at her as she glided by.

"She's got so many ruffles on! An' they're beau-ti-fully done up!" sighed Stefana in gentle envy of some unknown artist in starch.

"Now what?" demanded the man of the party at length. "Anybody want to stay here any longer? Or shall we discover new territory?" He took Evangeline aside and questioned her.

"Have you seen everything out there?" indicating the attractions without the big tent.

"We've seen a nawful lot. We've had a nelegant time," Evangeline whispered back. Desire and loyalty to Miss Theodosia fought a duel in her small breast and the issue was yet doubtful.

"Isn't there something left that you'd like to see?" The order was changed; here was man tempting woman. Desire won the duel with one mighty blow. Evangeline tiptoed up as near his ear as possible and breathed two words.

John Bradford turned to the little crowd.

"We'll go to see the Fat Lady," he said to Miss Theodosia; "I'll take the kiddies, while you sit down somewhere and rest.

"Sit down somewhere? Haven't I been sitting down somewhere? Don't you suppose I want to see the Fat Lady, too?" laughed Miss Theodosia. Fat ladies appealed to her invitingly, in this remarkable mood of hers—Miss Theodosia's circus mood.

"You're playing the game like a trump! I didn't dream you could 'pretend' a circus was yours. Must be some harder than pretending babies—" John Bradford got no farther. She turned indignant eyes upon him.

"'Game'—'pretend'—I'd have you know I'm having a nelegant time! You must be the Pretender."

"Me? I'm having the time of my life! I am going to put a circus into my love story."

"This circus?"

"This identical one."

"With me and the little Flaggs in it?"

"You—and the little Flaggs."

They had fallen behind the children, and a side eddy of the crowd had flowed between. The Fat Lady was at the further end of the grounds, but there was no hurry; she would remain just as fat a Fat Lady if they pleasantly dallied a little. Stefana had, with the deftness of genius-born skill, solved the puzzle of opening the folded-up go-cart, and the Man Person of the party was no longer burdened with Elly Precious.

Suddenly into the pleasant dallying leaped Carruthers with terrified little face.

"They're lost! We can't find 'em! I can't an' Stefana can't. They ain't anywhere! We were lookin' at a man with turkles you wind up, an' when we stopped lookin' they weren't there—not anywhere. They ain't anywhere! Not any—'

"Stop him!" begged Miss Theodosia. "He'll keep right on anywhere-ing. We must find Stefana."

"Stefana said—oh, I couldn't hear what Stefana said, but she pointed an' pointed, an' I came lickety. They're lost! They ain't anywhere!"

Stefana appearing here, the story was repeated. Like that—Stefana snapped her fingers—they had disappeared.

"I've hunted and hunted. Everybody's seen children with go-carts, but they weren't Evangeline 'n' Elly Precious."

Miss Theodosia's own face was pale, but she achieved a light laugh.

"No wonder you haven't found them yet! In this crowd. It takes time;—you tell them to be patient and we'll find the right go-cart." She appealed to the Man Person.

"Sure, we'll find the right go-cart! Where do you think they could have vanished? Down a hole in the ground?"

Miss Theodosia clapped her hands valiantly. "That's it! Evangeline found a hole and took Elly Precious down, to show him the White Rabbit and the Red Queen! Evangeline would love to be an Alice in Wonderland. Go and find the hole," to the Man Person. "I'll stay right in this spot with the children. See, in front of this ice-cream tent."

"Good idea!—I'll bring them back with me unless you find them first."

But they were not with him when he returned half an hour later. In spite of himself, he looked anxious.

"Queer thing! What color dress did she have on? I've tried to remember."

"Pink—oh, pink!" sobbed Stefana, "but it was most washed out. It had two tucks let down, an' it was limpy in the skirt, behind—the starch gave out." There were so many Evangelines, but it didn't seem as if there'd be another Evangeline limpy behind! "An' Elly Precious's lower teeth are through, and his shoes are buttoned inside, I remember now! We were in such a hurry—there wouldn't be another baby buttoned inside."

After still further vain hunting, John Bradford sent the three home.

"You may find Evangeline there, getting supper!" he said, "but I'll stay here on the chance you don't. I'll investigate every hole on the grounds! Don't anybody worry—now, mind! There's nothing to worry about."

"Fat Lady!" Miss Theodosia suddenly exclaimed as one with inspiration. "We've never thought of her; that's where they've gone! Evangeline couldn't wait. She had some pennies."

"I've investigated the Fat Lady—no good. They don't let go-carts in, and there weren't any outside. But, of course, I can go the whole figure, to make sure. I'll go all the whole figures. Can't you trust me?"

"We can. Come, children. I'll coach you on Wonderland, so if Evangeline is there you'll know what she is seeing! Gryphons, Mock 'Turkles,' Mad Hatters—a circus within a circus! It's so much like Evangeline to find that White Rabbit hole!" Miss Theodosia clung determinedly to a cheerful view of the situation. But, secretly, she worried. As the time went on, she worried harder. Two babies—one wheeling the other! What was Evangeline but a baby?

Miss Theodosia took the two little surviving Flaggs to her own home and plied them with goodies—many goodies. She unearthed from hiding-places candied ginger and guava jelly; she invented toys for the deaf little Flagg and occupations for Stefana. She found a dog-eared copy of "Alice," dear to her own childhood, and read to Stefana—anything to occupy the waiting. It was long waiting!

It grew dark. Once Miss Theodosia heard heavy steps trying painstakingly to be light ones. She found the Man Person outside the door.

"Nothing yet? You haven't any trace—" It was needless asking.

"You don't think—"

"Of course, I don't think! Nothing on earth could happen to those kiddies."

"Automobiles—"

"Aren't allowed on the grounds, and you couldn't have got Evangeline off the grounds with a tackle and falls. I know what I think."

"Then tell it—mercy gracious!"

"I think it's Evangeline that's happened. Mark my words! Now I'm going back again. I just came to—I suppose I thought I was coming to relieve your mind!" He laughed sorrily and softly.

"Oh, go—yes, go! It's—it's long past Elly Precious' bedtime." He could hear soft sobbing as he went away. Miss Theodosia was mourning for her baby. The Man Person's throat tightened; he broke into a run.

Stefana met Miss Theodosia at an inner door. She had her hat on and
Carruthers by the hand.

"I'm going home to put him to bed. I—I shan't look at the clothes basket. But if Elly Precious is dead, I'll put wh-white ribbons on the h-handles!" With a moan, Stefana threw herself into the kind arms of Elly Precious' friend who loved him, too!

"Hush, dear! Elly Precious isn't dead, but I hope he is asleep.
Evangeline, I know, will take care of him. Let's trust Evangeline."

"Maybe she's dead, too!"

"Stefana! I'm disappointed. I thought you were a brave girl."

"I am!" sobbed Stefana, gathering herself together. Miss Theodosia watched her go quietly away, hand in hand with the little brother that was left. But Miss Theodosia was no longer brave. Sudden terrors seized upon her. She remembered how round and white Elly Precious was—how he showed the little teeth that had got through—how he had loved to watch Evangeline dance, through the window.

"Theodosia Baxter, I'm disappointed! I thought you were a brave girl."

As she stood in the moist darkness, a sound came to her—too soft for a man-sound. It grew a very little more distinct.

"Miss Theodosia—sh! he's gettin' ready to go off. I want him to go off soon's I get him home—I don't want to 'xcite him. I jus' came to tell you—"

"Evangeline! Have you got him there?"

The softest of giggles. "Why, of course! He's too valuable to leave anywheres. Leave a Best Baby! That's the s'prise! He's a prize baby, Elly Precious is! I've got it in my pocket!"