family circle.  From there they could look down on dazzling scenes, and Kathleen, who had never been to a theater in the whole course of her life, was delighted.  She at least had forgotten what might follow this expedition.  Oh, yes, they were having a glorious time; and it was quite right to do what you liked sometimes, and quite right to defy your elders.  Oh, how many she was defying:  Ruth Craven, who would almost have given her life to keep her back from this; Miss Ravenscroft, the head-mistress, to whom Kathleen’s heart did not go out; her own father; her own aunt; Alice Tennant—­oh, bother Alice Tennant!  And last, Mrs. Hopkins.

“Quite an army of them,” thought Kathleen.  “I have dared to do what none of them approved of, and I am not a bit the worse for it.  Darling dad, your own Kathleen will tell you everything, and you may give me what punishment you think best when the fun is over.  But now I am having a jolly time.”

So Kathleen did enjoy herself, and made so many saucy remarks between the acts, and looked so radiant notwithstanding her very plain dress, that several people looked at the beautiful girl and commented about her and her companions.

“A school party, my dear,” said a lady to her husband.

“But I don’t see the chaperone,” he remarked.

And then the lady, who looked again more carefully, could not help observing that these seven girls were certainly not chaperoned by any one.  A little wonder and a little uneasiness came into her heart.  She was a very kind woman herself; she was a motherly woman, too, and she thought of her own girls tucked up safely in bed at home, and wondered what she would feel if they were alone at a London theater at this hour.  Presently something impelled her to bend forward and touch Kathleen on her arm.  Kathleen gave a little start and faced her.

“Forgive me,” she said; “I see that you and your companions are schoolgirls, are you not?”

To some people Kathleen might have answered, “That is our own affair, not yours;” but to this lady with the courteous face and the gentle voice she replied in quite a humble tone: 

“Yes, madam, we are schoolgirls.”

“And if you will forgive me, dear, have you no lady looking after you?”

“No,” said Kate Rourke, bending forward at that moment; “we are out for a spree all by our lone selves.”

Kate gave a loud laugh as she spoke.  The lady started back, and could not help contrasting Kathleen’s face with those of the other girls.  She bent towards her husband and whispered in his ear.  The result of this communication was that, the curtain having fallen for the last time, the actors having left the stage, the play being completely over, and the seven girls being about to get back to Charing Cross as best they could, the lady touched Kathleen on her arm.

“You will forgive me, dear,” she said; “I am a mother and have daughters of my own.  I should not like to see girls in the position you are in without offering to help them.”