“It’s a fine thing, so it is, to know how to sew, Miss Natalie,” said Anna Mary, biting off her thread, though she would not permit one of the girls thus to risk breaking the enamel of a tooth. “Sure, if you know how it doesn’t get in the way of buyin’ your clothes, nor of hirin’ some one else to sew for you. But when you lose your money, or happen to be where there’s no buyin’, nor hirin’, it gets sore in your way not to know how to put a garmient together, nor the top from the bottom of an unmade sleeve, no, nor a hawk from handsewin’, as the sayin’ is.” “‘A hawk from a handsaw,’” murmured Miss Deland in spite of herself, much amused, yet knowing better than to attempt to correct Anna Mary. “That’s Shakespeare, Anna Mary! You certainly sew wonderfully well and wonderfully fast! I don’t know how we ever should have had the costumes done in time, but for you,” she added hastily, seeing Anna Mary’s brow darken. “It would be a poor creature that was lady’s maid as many years as I’ve been and couldn’t sew, Miss Deland,” said Anna Mary, mollified, but accepting the compliment as her just due. When the costumes were finished they were so charming that Aunt Alida clapped her hands at the sight of the four figures arrayed in them, declaring that it was a pity to hide such effects in the gallery. They surprisingly brought out the characteristics of each wearer. Natalie looked quite grown up in her stiff gown, a magnificent court lady, so handsome that jealous Queen Elizabeth would never have suffered her at her court. Alys looked dignified and impressive, but Beth looked like what she was, a rosy cheeked little girl masquerading, and Dirk might well have passed for what he represented, the one little son whom Shakespeare loved and lost. Shrove Tuesday night came, a warm night for the season. It would have been the children’s privilege to have seen Mrs. Cortlandt dress, but Beth refused to go, wishing to keep the coming wonders of the night and the illusion of Elizabeth’s court to burst upon her in undivided glory, its illusion perfect. She would not risk seeing one of the maskers transformed from Aunt Alida into an Elizabethan lady. Since Beth would not look at their mother till she appeared in the ballroom, the others would not either.