They had been sitting on the piazza, and talking of the days of uninterrupted sunshine that they had enjoyed, when, in a few minutes, the blue sky had been hidden, as if by a thin, pearly veil, while hanging over the mountain was the mass of leaden clouds that had seemed to prophesy rain. "Oh, _I_ don't want it to rain," wailed Floretta, who stood near them, her pretty face puckered into a most unpleasant frown. "I'm afraid the weather can't be arranged especially for you," said Mr. Cunningham. He, like all the guests, was very tired of the child who was either whining, or boisterously, rudely gay. Just at this point, Mrs. Paxton came out on the piazza, a small note-book and pencil in her hand. She hastened toward the two gentlemen, and smiled as if she were conferring a favor. "With the chance of a stormy evening, we are trying to arrange a program that will give us a pleasant evening indoors," she said. "I am sure you will help me." She had smiled at both, and old Mr. Cunningham, who heartily disliked her, was only too glad to reply. "I'm not musical, madam," he said, "but I'll whistle 'Hail Columbia' for you, if you will promise not to reprimand me if I get off the key." "Dear, dear!" she cried. "You are always so amusing. One never knows if you are joking, or serious." "It would be very serious, and no joke, I assure you, if you were actually obliged to listen to my whistling," was the curt reply, and he turned once more to scan the sky and the distant mountains. Uncle Harry, of course, agreed to sing, his wife promised to play, and Mrs. Paxton moved toward where Mrs. Dainty and her companion, Aunt Charlotte, were sitting, with Dorothy and Nancy near them. "Will your little daughter sing for us this evening?" she asked. "We are eager to have quite a fine program." "Dorothy shall sing for you, surely," Mrs. Dainty said, "and Nancy, I am sure, will give a little solo." "Oh, does Nancy sing or play?" Mrs. Paxton asked, in surprise, for thus far Nancy had not exhibited her talent, whatever it might be. "She will give you a solo that shall be neither singing nor playing," Mrs. Dainty replied, with a quiet smile. "How very interesting!" said Mrs. Paxton. She had invited Dorothy to sing because other guests had expressed the wish to hear her. Here was a _second_ child with talent of _some_ kind! Well, Floretta's imitations of other people would certainly eclipse the efforts of the other little girls! Mrs. Paxton's sole idea in arranging the entertainment was for the purpose of showing Floretta's mimicry. A small figure paused a moment in the doorway, then stepped back, and peeped out, scanning the groups upon the piazza. "She isn't there!" he whispered. "She's backed out, an' she _said_ she'd do it!" He drew back into the shadow, and waited, hoping that when he looked again he might see her. A second peep at the guests on the piazza showed that Floretta was not among them. "She didn't _try_ to do it!" he muttered.