Aunt Alida did demur for just about the moment which Uncle Jim had allowed for her to hesitate, when he announced his decision to have the children see the ball which all New York was discussing. But she yielded her objections to breaking through her rule of “early to bed and early to rise” for her young folk, and consented to let them be hidden in the gallery at the end of the great ballroom to see the spectacle which would be a lifelong memory of beauty to them. This meant hurriedly planned costumes for the four. The ball guests would be sure to invade the ballroom galleries and Aunt Alida did not intend to allow the smallest blemish in the harmony of this great ball. When the children were discovered, as they would be, looking on, they must be found in the costume of the period of the ball, not in their own twentieth century persons and frocks. Poor Aunt Alida was dismayed at this additional task unexpectedly fallen upon her, but Miss Deland came to her rescue. “Let me attend to the costumes, dear Mrs. Cortlandt,” she said. “I’m sure I can design them well enough--to be hidden away!” Mrs. Cortlandt laughed, looking relieved. “You could choose costumes quite pretty enough to put in the middle of the strongest limelight, Miss Deland,” she said. “Lessons have been so neglected this winter by our gadabout Beth that you hardly have had her in the schoolroom enough to know what she looks like! But you can guess what will be becoming to her!” “I know Bethie’s sunny face better than you think I do, and I know how well she loves English history,” said Miss Deland with a smile for Beth that made Beth throw her arms around this lovable teacher and give her one of her impetuous hugs. “Miss Deland and I are very well acquainted, because I love her dearly, Aunt Alida,” she said. “And she teaches me a great deal in a few days. I’ve learned different things from the ones I learn in school at home, but Miss Deland makes me know so much in an hour that you needn’t think I’ve lost this winter--studying, I mean.” “To be truthful, I’m not seriously worried about it, Bethie,” laughed Aunt Alida. “And it surely ought to be a good way to become well acquainted with a person to love her dearly! Then I’ll leave it to you, Miss Deland, to turn the quartette into subjects of Queen Elizabeth, and you really don’t know how much I appreciate your undertaking it for me.” “We must have a solemn consultation, girls and boy!” said Miss Deland, as Aunt Alida hurried away. “Your gowns must be simple. We can have them made at home. We’ll get a sempstress in and call upon Anna Mary and Frieda to help; I can sew, too.” “If only we could get Miss Tappan! She’s the dressmaker at home,” said Beth. “She’s really quick, though she looks like some one who would be dreadfully slow. She goes out by the day; she charges only a dollar a day to old customers, like Aunt Rebecca. She mightn’t be able to make Elizabethan dresses, though.” Beth looked doubtful and somewhat troubled.