To Christie this was a great delight, for, though she had pored overher father's Shakespeare till she knew many scenes by heart, she hadnever seen a play till Lucy led her into what seemed an enchantedworld. Her interest and admiration pleased the little actress, andsundry lifts with her dresses made her gratefulto Christie.
 
The girl's despondent face, as she came in day after day from herunsuccessful quest, told its own story, though she uttered nocomplaint, and these friendly souls laid their heads together, eagerto help her in their own dramatic fashion.
 
"I've got it! I've got it! All hail to the queen!" was the cry thatone day startled Christie as she sat thinking anxiously, whilesewing mock-pearls on a crown for Mrs. Black.
 
Looking up she saw Lucy just home from rehearsal, going through aseries of pantomimic evolutions suggestive of a warrior doing battlewith incredible valor, and a very limited knowledge of the noble artof self-defence.
 
"What have you got? Who is the queen?" she asked, laughing, as thebreathless hero lowered her umbrella, and laid her bonnet atChristie's feet.
 
"You are to be the Queen of the Amazons in our new spectacle, athalf a dollar a night for six or eight weeks, if the piece goeswell.""No!" cried Christie, with a gasp.
 
"Yes!" cried Lucy, clapping her hands; and then she proceeded totell her news with theatrical volubility. "Mr. Sharp, the manager,wants a lot of tallish girls, and I told him I knew of a perfectdear. He said: 'Bring her on, then,' and I flew home to tell you.