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great horned owl!”
    â€œAs long as it does not involve getting a leopard to live here,” Viola added.
    â€œOr a coffin to sleep in,” Martha giggled.
    â€œDon’t tease me,” Jane said, blushing furiously. And Maurice showed his tact by changing the subject to politics.
    â€œOh, Snooker, how can I ever wait till Saturday?” Jane asked when Snooker came to tuck her in that night.
    â€œDearie, try not to get overexcited. Remember, it’s a little hard on Alix, this sudden interest in you. You’ve always done things together.”
    â€œWhy didn’t Maurice ask Alix, too?”
    And how did one answer that, Snooker must have wondered. For it was quite clear that for the present it was Sarah Bernhardt and the thought of seeing the greatest actress in the world, not Maurice, that would keep Jane awake that night.
    â€œYou will have to figure that one out for yourself,” she said, patting Jane’s head. “Now try to sleep. You have a French test tomorrow, you know.”
    When Alix came in from her bath to go to bed in the other small iron bedstead opposite Jane’s she whispered, “Do you think he’s in love with you?”
    â€œOf course not, don’t be silly. It’s not that at all,” Jane said, alarmed, a little disconcerted.
    At last Saturday came. Snooker had spent the day before letting down Jane’s red velvet best dress, and washing and ironing the round lace collar. White stockings and black patent leather slippers were all prepared, and on Saturday morning she washed Jane’s hair. The preparations seemed interminable, especially sitting in the rocker in the sun waiting and waiting for it to dry. Alix had gone to her best friend’s for the day, for everyone in the family knew that this first departure from their entity, the inseparable “little ones,” was difficult for her.
    Finally, when Jane was all dressed before lunch Mamma came in with a little black velvet pouch. “You had better have something to put a handkerchief in,” she said.
    â€œOh dear, thanks, I’m bound to cry,” Jane said.
    â€œTry not to, dearie, you don’t want to embarrass Maurice.”
    â€œI can’t help it, Mamma. She’s going to die on the stage.”
    â€œWell, don’t begin now,” Snooker laughed at her.
    At last it was half past one. Jane had not been able to eat and swallowed down a glass of milk only at Mamma’s insistence. She was all ready in her blue coat with a fur collar and a dark blue velour hat with a wide brim; she had on Edith’s white gloves when the doorbell tinkled.
    â€œYou look splendid,” said Maurice. “What a splendid girl!”
    Mamma and Pappa waved them off, and then Jane was alone with someone she hardly knew, in a hansom cab, a conveyance she had never experienced before. What an adventure!
    It took an hour to go from Cambridge to the theater by cab, but for Jane the time simply flew. For once she was allowed to talk as much as she wanted to someone who seemed genuinely interested and amused. “Alix is the only person who ever listens to me,” she said at one point, “so you must stop me if I go on too long.” She had made Maurice laugh by describing her French teacher, who was able to make a whole dramatic scene out of a small incident which if spoken in English would have seemed negligible if not boring, and who wore Paris hats and a black velvet ribbon round her throat. In the heat of this piece of theater Jane took off her hat and swung it in the air, saying, “Vive la France!” And then, “Ouf! Je suis bien mieux sans mon chapeau, n’est-ce pas, Oncle Maurice?”
    â€œYes,” he said, giving her a critical look, “you look like Alice in Wonderland.” And so she did with her long fair hair, just slightly wavy from being plaited, and a dark-blue velvet ribbon holding it back.
    She gave a sigh and leaned back