“Helen, you can never guess who is here?” she finally blurted out in true school girl fashion. “Have you ever heard of the fairies?” “Of a fairy godmother—yes,” replied Helen with surprising promptness. “I want to introduce to you. Miss Allen, my childhood friend—Stanislaus,” she said simply. The young man bowed, and Jane smiled, as she accepted the introduction. But her eye was over her shoulder on the door where Mme. Nalasky was being held back. “Oh, Helen, I am all excited,” admitted Jane. “We have such wonderful news. We have found—guess whom?” “Oh, not my Matka! Do not tell me my dreams are all come true. It cannot be my mother!” and Helen, too overcome to say more grasped Jane and clung to her, trembling visibly. “There is a lady here who cannot wait another moment to see you, may I——” But the tide could no longer be stemmed and in rushed Mme. Nalasky. “My baby! My own darling!” exclaimed the singer, brushing into the room and embracing the astonished Helen. Jane drew back, and stood near Stanislaus, who was viewing the scene with quite as much astonishment as it were possible for a young man to experience. At the moment Jane could not refrain from indulging her old-time delight of clapping her hands. As if that were a signal, Judith and her followers actually entered the room in battle formation. Mrs. Weatherbee was about to expostulate, when Madam Nalasky turned smiling to the group. “Ah, this is all too beautiful! Like a grand opera climax. I would not have the young ladies leave, if you please, madam,” to Mrs. Weatherbee. “May they not all hear our wonderful story? I think of a certainty, the companions of Miss Allen must indeed be worthy of so much pleasure.” Judith almost chuckled. Jane dragged her in nearer and squeezed her hand. Drusilla, Dicky, Weasie, Gloria, besides all the others waiting impatiently in the big hall could hear their invitation to take part in the climax of the grand opera. Helen was dumbfounded. She stood staring at the woman beside her, as if she could not trust her senses. Then Marie, the faithful protector of talent, stepped up and deliberately led her mistress to a chair. Madam did sit down. She knew Marie’s power, but from the small throne she might still direct that girls’ opera. She motioned Helen to come nearer, and then begun in true stage fashion to unfold the tale. “This little girl,” she said, “is my own sweet daughter. When I left her in Petrograd at a conservatory she was in the care of the very wonderful man, my uncle. I had been—somewhat with the nobility, was obliged to leave the beautiful Poland, and too soon my kind old uncle—he who had taken Helka to watch over, was gone also!” Stanislaus stood there like a guard, Jane thought, and as Madam described the scene it was truly one of dramatic value.