"Dear Eleanor:"The members of the Phi Sigma Tau are very sorry about your having to make an apology. We did not wish it. We think you showed a great deal of the right kind of courage in making the public apology you did both toMiss Thompson and to us. Won't you come back to the Phi Sigma Tau?"Your Sincere Friends."
"The members of the Phi Sigma Tau are very sorry about your having to make an apology. We did not wish it. We think you showed a great deal of the right kind of courage in making the public apology you did both toMiss Thompson and to us. Won't you come back to the Phi Sigma Tau?
"Your Sincere Friends."
At recess Grace showed the note to her friends. She had signed her name to the note and requested the others to do the same. Here she met with some opposition. Nora, Marian Barber and Eva Allen were strongly opposed to sending it. But Jessica, Anne and Miriam agreed with Grace that it would be in fulfillment of the original promise to Mrs. Gray to help Eleanor whenever they could do so. So the Phi Sigma Tau signed their names and the note was passed to Eleanor directly after recess.
She opened it, read it through, and an expression of such intense scorn passed over her face that Nora, who sat near her and who was covertly watching her, knew at once that Grace's flag of truce had been trampled in the dust.
Picking up her pen, Eleanor wrote rapidly for a brief space, underlined what she had written, signed her name with a flourish, and, folding and addressing her note, sent it to Grace.
Rather surprised at receiving an answer so quickly, Grace unfolded the note. Then she colored, looked grave and, putting the note in the back of the text-book she was holding, went on studying.
By the time school was over for the day, the girls of the Phi Sigma Tau knew that Eleanor had once more repudiated their overtures of friendship and were curious to see what she had written.
"Don't keep us in suspense. Let us see what she wrote," exclaimed Nora O'Malley as the seven girls crossed the campus together.
"Here it is," said Grace, handing Nora the note.
Nora eagerly unfolded the paper and the girls crowded around, reading over her shoulder, Grace walking a little apart from them. Then Nora read aloud:
"To the Phi Sigma Tau:"Your kind appreciation of my conduct in the matter of apology is really remarkable, coupled with the fact that your inability to refrain from discussing my personal affairs with Mrs. Gray forced this recent humiliation upon me. To ask me to return to your society is only adding insult to injury. I am not particularly surprised at this, however. It merely proves you to be greater hypocrites than you at first seemed."Eleanor Savell."
"Your kind appreciation of my conduct in the matter of apology is really remarkable, coupled with the fact that your inability to refrain from discussing my personal affairs with Mrs. Gray forced this recent humiliation upon me. To ask me to return to your society is only adding insult to injury. I am not particularly surprised at this, however. It merely proves you to be greater hypocrites than you at first seemed.
"Eleanor Savell."
"Well, of all things!" exclaimed Marian Barber. "Grace Harlowe, if you ever attempt to conciliate her again, I'll disown you."
"What does she mean by saying that we discussed her affairs with Mrs. Gray?" cried Jessica impatiently. "We have always tried to put her best side out to dear Mrs. Gray, and you all know it."
"The best thing to do," said Anne, smiling a little, "is to tell Mrs. Gray all about it. We might as well live up to the reputation Eleanor has thrust upon us. It isn't pleasant to admit that we have failed with Eleanor, but it isn't our fault, at any rate. I am going there this afternoon. I'll tell her."
"May I go with you, Anne?" asked Grace.
"You know I'd love to have you," Anne replied.
"As long as I was the first to agree to look out for Eleanor, I have decided I had better be with you at the finish," said Grace, as the two girls walked slowly up the drive.
"The finish?" asked Anne. "Why do you say that, Grace?"
"You've heard about the last straw that broke the camel's back, haven't you?" asked Grace. "Well, Eleanor's note is the last straw. I know I said that once before, and I broke my word. I don't intend to break it again, however. I am going to ask Mrs. Gray to release me from my promise."
Excitement ran high in the three lower classes one morning in early February when Miss Thompson requested that those interested in the production of a Shakespearian play go to the library directly after school, there to discuss the situation.
When the gong sounded dismissal, about sixty girls with dramatic aspirations made for the library. The Phi Sigma Tau entered in a body. They had decided at recess to carry away as many laurels as possible, providing they could get into the cast.
Miss Tebbs, teacher of elocution; Miss Kane, teacher of gymnastics, and Miss Thompson stood at one side of the library talking earnestly as they noted each newcomer.
"Oh, look!" whispered Jessica, clutching Nora's arm. "There's Eleanor and her crowd."
"Then look out for squalls," replied Nora. "She'll try to be the whole cast, and will get a magnificent case of sulks if she can't have her own way."
"Sh-h-h," warned Eva Allen. "She'll hearyou. Besides, Miss Thompson is going to speak."
The principal held up her hand for silence and the groups of girls engaged in subdued conversation ceased talking and turned their attention toward her.
"You are all aware that each year the senior class gives a play, which they choose, manage and produce with no assistance save that given by Miss Tebbs," said the principal. "So far the three lower classes have never given a play. Some time ago Miss Tebbs suggested that as we need money for special books in the library which our yearly appropriation does not cover, we might present a Shakespearian play with good effect, choosing the cast from the freshman, sophomore and junior classes.
"The first thing to be thought of is the play itself. After due consideration, we decided that 'As You Like It' is better suited to our needs than any of the other Shakespearian dramas. In it are twenty-one speaking characters, besides numerous lords, pages and attendants. We shall probably use about fifty girls, thus making it an elaborate production. By the attendance this afternoon I should imagine that you are heartily in favor of our project and that we shall have no trouble in making up the cast. As Miss Tebbs has charge of the situation, I yield the floor toher. She will explain to you about the giving out of the parts."
There was an enthusiastic clapping of hands as Miss Thompson smiled and nodded to the girls, then left the room. Miss Tebbs then stated that on Friday afternoon after school there would be a "try out" for parts in the gymnasium, in order to find out what girls were most capable of doing good work in the cast. Just what the test would be had not been decided. It would be well, however, to study the chosen play and become familiar with it; also each girl must bring a copy of the play with her. If the girls wished to ask any questions, she would answer them as far as possible. Miss Kane would help with the posing and coaching when the thing was fairly started.
The girls crowded around Miss Tebbs and Miss Kane, asking all sorts of questions.
"One at a time, girls," laughed Miss Tebbs. "I have not asked you to enact a mob scene."
Under cover of the confusion, Grace and her three friends slipped out of the library.
"'The play's the thing,'" quoted Nora, "and me for it."
"That is for the judges to decide," said Jessica sagely. "Perhaps they won't even look at you."
"Do you think any one could see my Irishcountenance and fail to be impressed?" demanded Nora.
"Really and truly, Nora, the more you travel with Hippy, the more you talk like him," remarked Grace.
"I consider that a compliment," replied Nora, laughing. "Hippy says awfully funny things."
"Look at our little Anne," said Jessica. "She is actually dreaming. Tell us about it, dear."
"I was thinking of the play," said Anne dreamily. "I do so want a part, if only a little one."
"You'll be chosen for Rosalind, see if you aren't," predicted Grace.
"Oh, no," said Anne. "Some one else will be sure to get that. Besides, I'm too short."
"But, Anne, you've had stage experience," said Jessica. "You ought to get it."
"Not in a Shakespearian play," replied Anne, shaking her head. "I might not do well at all with that kind of part."
"Never fear, you'll be the star before you know it," said Nora.
By Friday, there was nothing on the school horizon save the cherished play. Before school, at recess, and even in classes it was the topic of the hour. To the eager girls the day seemed particularly long, and a heartfelt sigh went up when the dismissal gong rang.
As the four chums hurried toward the gymnasium, Anne suddenly caught Grace by the arm with a faint gasp of surprise. Glancing quickly down at her friend to ascertain the cause of Anne's sudden agitation, Grace saw her friend's eyes following the figure of a tall, distinguished-looking man who was just disappearing down the corridor leading to the gymnasium.
"What's the matter, Anne?" asked Grace. "Do you know that man?"
"No," replied Anne, "but I know who he is."
"He must be a remarkable person, considering the way you gasped and clutched me," laughed Grace.
"That man is Everett Southard, the great Shakespearian actor," said Anne almost reverently. "I saw him in 'Hamlet' and his acting is wonderful."
"No wonder you were surprised," said Grace.
"It fairly takes my breath. I've seen ever so many pictures of him and read magazine articles about him. What do you suppose he is doing in Oakdale, and at the High School—of all places?"
"Time will tell," said Nora. Then she suddenly clasped her hands. "O girls, I know! He's here for the try-out!"
"Why of course he is," exclaimed Grace. "Now I remember Miss Tebbs showed me a magazine picture of him one day last year, and told me that she had known him since childhood. Besides, he is playing a three-night engagement in Albany. I read it in the paper last night. It's as plain as can be. Miss Tebbs has asked him to run up here and pick out the cast."
"Good gracious," said Jessica. "I shall retire in confusion if he looks at me. I won't dare aspire to a part now, and I had designs on the part of Phebe."
"Don't be a goose," said Nora. "He's only a man. He can't hurt you. I think having him here will be a lark. Won't some of those girls put on airs, though. There he is talking with Miss Tebbs now."
The girls entered the gymnasium to find there nearly all of those who had attended the first meeting in the library increased by about a score of girls who had decided at the last minute to try for parts. Eleanor stood at one end of the great room, with Edna Wright and Daisy Culver. Grace thought she had never seen Eleanor looking more beautiful. She was wearing a fur coat and hat far too costly for a school girl, and carried a huge muff. Her coat was thrown open, disclosing a perfectly tailored gown of brown, with trimmings of dull goldbraid. She was talking animatedly and her two friends were apparently hanging on every word she uttered.
"No wonder Eleanor has an opinion of herself," said Nora. "Look at Daisy and Edna. They act as though Eleanor were the Sultan of Turkey or the Shah of Persia, or some other high and mighty dignitary. They almost grovel before her."
"Never mind, Nora," said Grace. "As long as you retain your Irish independence what do you care about what other girls do?"
"I don't care. Only they do act so silly," said Nora, with a sniff of contempt.
"Sh-h-h!" said Jessica softly. "Miss Tebbs is going to call the meeting to order."
A hush fell over the assembled girls as Miss Tebbs stepped forward to address them.
"I am very glad to see so many girls here," she said. "It shows that you are all interested in the coming play. Although you cannot all have parts, I hope that you will feel satisfied with the selection made this afternoon. In order that each member of the cast may be chosen on her merit alone, my old friend, Mr. Southard, kindly consented to come from Albany for the sole purpose of giving us the benefit of his great Shakespearian experience. Allow me to introduce Mr. Everett Southard."
He was greeted with a round of applause, and after bowing his thanks, the eminent actor plunged at once into the business at hand.
He spoke favorably of the idea of an all-girl cast, saying that each year many girls' colleges presented Shakespearian plays with marked success. The main thing to be considered was the intelligent delivery of the great dramatist's lines. The thing to do would be to find out what girls could most ably portray the various characters, it would be necessary to try each girl separately with a few lines from the play. In order to facilitate matters, he suggested that those girls who really desired speaking parts step to one side of the room, while those who wished merely to make the stage pictures, step to the other.
Out of the eighty girls, about thirty-five only stepped over to the side from which the principal characters were to be chosen. Many of the girls had no serious intentions whatever regarding the play, and the awe inspired by Mr. Southard's presence made them too timid to venture to open their mouths before him. Jessica, whose courage had fled, would have been among the latter if Nora had not seized her firmly by the arm as she prepared to flee and marched her over with the rest of the Phi Sigma Tau. Eleanor and Edna Wright wereamong the junior contestants, while there was a good showing of sophomores and freshmen.
Mr. Southard took in the aspirants with keen, comprehensive glance. His eyes rested a shade longer on Eleanor. She made a striking picture as she stood looking with apparent indifference at the girls about her. Then his quick eye traveled to Grace's fine face and graceful figure, and then on to Anne, whose small face was alive with the excitement of the moment.
A breathless silence had fallen over the room. Every eye was fixed on the actor, who stood with a small leather-covered edition of "As You Like It" in his hand. Miss Tebbs stood by with a pencil and pad. The great try-out was about to begin.
"Will the young lady on the extreme right please come forward?" said Mr. Southard pleasantly, indicating Marian Barber, who rather timidly obeyed, taking the book he held out to her. At his request, she began to read from Orlando's entrance, in the first scene of the fourth act. She faltered a little on the first two lines, but shortly regained her courage and read on in her best manner. When she had read about a dozen lines he motioned for her to cease reading, said something to Miss Tebbs, who made an entry on her pad, and beckoned to the girl next to Marian to come forward.
Straight down the line he went, sometimes stopping a girl at her third or fourth line, rarely allowing them to read farther than the eleventh or twelfth.
Nora was the second Phi Sigma Tau to undergo the ordeal. As she briskly delivered the opening lines, the actor stopped her. Taking the book from her, he turned to the part where Touchstone, quaintly humorous, holds forth upon "the lie seven times removed."
"Read this," he said briefly, holding out the book to Nora.
Nora began and read glibly on, unconsciously emphasizing as she did so. Down one page she read and half way through the next before Mr. Southard seemed satisfied.
Then he again held conversation with Miss Tebbs, who nodded and looked smilingly toward Nora, who stood scowling faintly, rather ill-pleased at attracting so much attention.
"It looks as though Nora had made an impression, doesn't it!" whispered Jessica to Grace, who was about to reply when Mr. Southard motioned to her. Grace, who knew the scene by heart, went fearlessly forward, and read the lines with splendid emphasis. Marian and Eva Allen followed her, and acquitted themselves with credit. Then Eleanor's turn came. Handing her coat, which she had taken off and carried upon her arm, to Edna Wright, she walked proudly over, then, without a trace of self-consciousness, began the reading of the designated lines. Her voice sounded unusually clear and sweet, yet lacked something of the power of expression displayed by Grace in her rendering of the same scene. When she had finished she handed the book back with an air of studied indifference she was far from feeling. She had decided in her own mind that Rosalindwas the part best suited to her, and felt that the honor now lay between herself and Grace. No other girls, with the exception of Nora, had been allowed to read as much of any scene as they two had been requested to read.
But Eleanor had reckoned without her host, for there was one girl who had not as yet come to the front. The girl was Anne Pierson, who in some mysterious manner had been all but overlooked, until Miss Tebbs spied her standing between Grace and Nora.
"Can you spare us a moment more, Mr. Southard?" said Miss Tebbs to the actor, who was preparing to leave. "You have almost missed hearing one of my best girls. Come here, Anne, and prove the truth of my words."
Grace drew a long breath of relief. She had eagerly awaited Anne's turn and was about to call Miss Tebbs's attention to Anne, just as that teacher had observed her.
As most of the girls present had heard Anne recite, there was a great craning of necks and a faint murmur of expectancy as she took her place. They expected her to live up to her reputation and she had scarcely delivered the opening line before they realized that she would not disappoint them.
Her musical voice vibrated with expression and the mock-serious bantering tones in whichshe delivered Rosalind's witty speeches caused Mr. Southard to smile and nod approvingly as she gave full value to the immortal lines. Her change of voice from Rosalind to Orlando was wholly delightful, and so charmingly did she depict both characters that when she ended with Orlando's exit she received a little ovation from the listening girls, in which Mr. Southard and Miss Tebbs joined.
"She's won! She's won! I'm so glad," Grace said softly to Nora and Jessica. "I wanted her to play Rosalind, and I knew she could do it. Look, girls! Mr. Southard is shaking hands with her."
True enough, Anne was shyly shaking hands with the great actor, who was congratulating her warmly upon her recent effort.
"I have never before heard an amateur read those lines as well as you have to-day, Miss Pierson," he said. "I am sure Rosalind will be safe with you, for few professional women could have done better. If I am anywhere near here when your play is enacted, I shall make it a point to come and see it."
Shaking hands warmly with Miss Tebbs and bowing to the admiring girls, Mr. Southard hurriedly departed, leaving his audience devoured with curiosity as to the chosen ones.
Anne stood perfectly still, looking ratherdazed. The unexpected had happened. She was to have not only a part, but the best part, at that. The girls gathered eagerly about her, congratulating her on her success, but she was too overcome to thank them, and smiled at them through a mist of tears.
"Look at Eleanor," whispered Nora to Grace. "She's so angry she can't see straight. She must have wanted to play Rosalind herself. I told you she'd sulk if she couldn't be the leading lady."
Grace glanced over toward Eleanor, who stood biting her lip, her hands clenched and her face set in angry lines.
"She looks like the 'Vendetta' or the 'Camorra' or some other Italian vengeance agency, doesn't she?" said Nora with a giggle.
Grace laughed in spite of herself at Nora's remark, but regretted it the next moment, for Eleanor saw the glances directed toward her and heard Nora's giggle. She turned white and half started toward Grace, then stopped, and, turning her back upon the Phi Sigma Tau, began talking to Edna Wright.
Just then Miss Tebbs, who had been busy with her list, announced that she would now name the cast, and all conversation ceased as by magic.
Miriam Nesbit was intrusted with the "Duke,"while Marian Barber was to play "Frederick," his brother. Jessica was in raptures over "Phebe," while Nora had captured "Touchstone," Eva Allen, "Audrey," and, to her great delight, Grace was told that she was to play "Orlando," with Eleanor as "Celia." The other parts were assigned among the sophomores and freshmen who had made the best showing, Mabel Allison getting the part of Jaques.
"You will report for rehearsal next Tuesday afternoon after school, when typewritten copies of your parts will be handed you," said Miss Tebbs, as she was about to leave the room.
The moment Miss Tebbs ceased talking the girls began, as they gathered in little groups around the lucky ones and gave vent to their feelings with many exclamations of approval and congratulation. Several girls approached Eleanor, but she fairly ran from them and hurried out of the gymnasium after Miss Tebbs with Edna Wright and Daisy Culver at her heels.
"There goes Eleanor after Miss Tebbs," observed Marian Barber. "What do you suppose she's up to now?"
"Oh, never mind her," said Nora impatiently. "You'll see enough of her during rehearsal. It will be so pleasant to rehearse with her, considering that she isn't on speaking terms with any of us."
Had the girl chums known then what Eleanor "was up to," it would have been a matter of surprise and indignation to all of them. After imperiously commanding her satellites to wait for her in the corridor, Eleanor overtook Miss Tebbs just outside Miss Thompson's office.
"I want to speak to you, Miss Tebbs," said Eleanor as the teacher paused, her hand on the doorknob.
"Well, what can I do for you, Miss Savell?"
"I want to speak to you about the play. I wish to play Rosalind," said Eleanor with calm assurance.
"But, my dear child, Anne Pierson is to play Rosalind," replied Miss Tebbs. "Mr. Southard particularly commended her work. Did you not hear what he said?"
"Oh, yes; I heard him complimenting her," replied Eleanor complacently, "but I feel sure that I can do more with it than she can. I did not do my best work to-day. Besides, Miss Pierson is too short. I am certain of making a better appearance."
"What you say about appearance is quite true, Miss Savell," replied Miss Tebbs frankly. "Beyond a doubt you would make a beautiful Rosalind; but I am convinced that no other girl can enact the part with the spirit and dash that Miss Pierson can. Your part of Celia isvery well suited to you, and you can win plenty of applause playing it. You must understand, however, that once having given out a part, I should not attempt to take it from the girl I had given it to simply because some other girl desired it. That would be both unfair and unjust. The only thing I could promise you would be to allow you to understudy Rosalind in case anything happened to Miss Pierson. Would you care to understudy the part?"
Eleanor was silent for a moment. Miss Tebbs, looking a trifle impatient, stood awaiting her reply.
"I should like to do that," Eleanor said slowly, a curious light in her eyes. "Thank you very much, Miss Tebbs."
"You are welcome," replied the teacher. "Be sure and be prompt at rehearsal next Tuesday."
As Miss Tebbs entered the office, Eleanor turned and walked slowly down the corridor.
"So Miss Tebbs thinks I ought to be satisfied with 'Celia,'" she muttered. "Very well, I'll rehearse Celia, but I'll understudy Rosalind, and it will be very strange if something doesn't happen to Miss Pierson."
After the parts had been given out, rehearsals for the play went merrily on. There were many hitches at first, but finally things settled down to smooth running order, and as the time for its presentation approached Miss Tebbs had good reason to feel jubilant. Each girl seemed bent on distinguishing herself, and that teacher was heard laughingly to declare that she had an "all star cast."
In spite of rehearsals, Grace Harlowe's team found time for a few basketball games, and whipped the senior team twice in succession, much to the disgust of Captain Julia Crosby, who threatened to go into deep mourning over what she called "her dead and gone team." She even composed a mournful ditty, which she sang in their ears in a wailing minor key whenever she passed any of them, and practically tormented them, until they actually did win one hard-fought victory over the juniors, "just to keep Julia from perpetrating her eternal chant," as one of them remarked.
Eleanor had outwardly settled down to the routine of school work in a way that surprisedeven her aunt. But inwardly she was seething with rebellion toward Miss Thompson and hatred of the Phi Sigma Tau. She had fully determined that Anne Pierson should never play Rosalind, and had hit upon a plan by which she hoped to accomplish her ends. The Phi Sigma Tau were completely carried away with Anne's impersonation of Shakespeare's heroine, and any blow struck at Anne would be equally felt by the others. Anne had been absent from one rehearsal and thus Eleanor had had an opportunity to show her ability. She had done very well and Miss Tebbs had praised her work, though in her secret heart Eleanor knew that Anne's work was finer than her own. But the means of gratifying her own personal vanity blinded her to everything except the fact that she wanted to play Rosalind regardless of Anne's superior ability.
To settle Miss Thompson was not so easy a matter, and though Eleanor racked her brain for some telling method of vengeance, no inspiration came until one afternoon in early March. Professor La Roche, irritated to the point of frenzy, ordered her from his class, with instructions to report herself to Miss Thompson. As she entered the open door of the principal's office she noticed that the room was empty of occupants. She stopped, hesitated, then wentsoftly in, a half-formed idea in her mind that did not at first assume definite shape.
"If Miss Thompson comes in, I suppose I shall have to report myself," thought Eleanor. "While I'm here, I'll just look about and see if I can't find some way to even up that public apology she made me make."
Gliding over to the open desk, she ran her eye hastily over the various papers spread out upon it. At first she found nothing of importance, but suddenly she began to laugh softly, her face lighted with malicious glee.
"Here's the wonderful paper that Miss Tabby Cat Thompson is going to read before the 'Arts and Crafts Club' to-morrow," she murmured. "I heard her telling Miss Chester about it yesterday. She said it took her six weeks to prepare it on account of the time she spent in looking up her facts. It will take me less than six minutes to dispose of it."
Seizing the essay with both hands, she tore it across, and then tore it again and again, until it was literally reduced to shreds. These she gathered into a heap and left in the middle of the desk. Glancing about to see that no one was near, she was about to step into the corridor when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Quick as a flash she flung open the door of the little lavatory just outside the officeand concealed herself just as a girl turned from the main corridor into the short passage leading to the principal's office. Eleanor, holding the door slightly ajar, peered stealthily out at the new-comer, who was none other than Grace Harlowe.
Having no recitation that hour, Grace had run up to the office to obtain Miss Thompson's permission to use the gymnasium that afternoon for basketball practice. A hasty glance inside the office revealed to Grace that the principal was not there. She hesitated a moment, walked toward the desk, then turned and went out again.
The moment she turned the corner, Eleanor darted out of the lavatory and fled down the corridor, just as the bell rang for the end of the period. In a moment the main corridor was filled with girls from the various classrooms, and, joining them, Eleanor entered the study hall without reporting her dismissal from French class.
She was somewhat nervous and trembled a little at the thought of her near discovery, but felt not the slightest qualm of conscience at her ruthless destruction of another's property. On the contrary, she experienced a wicked satisfaction, and smiled to herself as she pictured Miss Thompson's consternation when the latter should discover her loss. Best of all, theprincipal would never find out who did it, for Eleanor vowed never to admit her guilt.
She decided to go at once to Professor La Roche and apologize, so that he would not report her to Miss Thompson. Without a doubt an effort would be made to find the culprit, and if it were proven that she did not return to the study hall as soon as dismissed from French, she might be asked to account for it, and thus call down suspicion upon herself.
On her way to rhetoric recitation, she stopped at Professor La Roche's door, greatly astonishing him by a prettily worded apology, which he readily accepted and beamed upon her with forgiving good-nature. Feeling that she had bridged that difficulty, Eleanor entered the classroom to find Miss Thompson talking in low, guarded tones to Miss Chester, who looked both, shocked and surprised. She caught the words "entirely destroyed," "serious offence" and "investigate at once," Then the principal left the room and Miss Chester turned to the class and began the recitation.
To Eleanor's surprise, nothing was said of the matter that day. School was dismissed as usual, and the girls went out without dreaming that on the morrow they would all be placed under suspicion until the person guilty of the outrage was found.
The following morning, after opening exercises, Miss Thompson stated briefly the destruction of her paper.
"I was out of my office barely ten minutes," she said, "yet when I returned some one had ruthlessly torn the essay to bits and left the pieces piled in the middle of my desk. As I had spent considerable time and research in getting the subject matter together, the destruction of the paper is particularly annoying. Whoever was contemptible enough to engage in such mischief must have known this. It looks like a deliberate attempt to insult me. It is hard to believe one of my girls guilty, yet it is not probable that any one outside could be responsible. A girl who would wilfully do such a thing is a menace to the school and should be removed from it. I am not going to any extreme measures to find the miscreant. Were I to question each girl in turn I fear the offender might perjure herself rather than admit her guilt. But I am confident that sooner or later I shall know the truth of the matter."
As Miss Thompson concluded, she looked over the roomful of girls who sat watching her with serious faces. Which one of them was guilty? Time alone would tell.
At recess that morning the subject of the play was for once forgotten in the excitement occasioned by the principal's recent disclosure. Groups of girls indignantly denied even the thought of such mischief.
"I don't believe Miss Thompson would ever suspect us of any such thing," remarked Jessica to her friends.
"Of course not, goose," replied Grace. "She knows us too well for that."
But it was with a peculiar apprehension of something unpleasant that Grace answered a summons to the principal's office just before school closed for the day.
"Grace," she said, as the young girl entered the office, "were you in my office yesterday afternoon between half past one and a quarter of two?"
"Why, yes, Miss Thompson. I came to ask permission to use the gymnasium, but you were out, so I came back and asked you just before school closed."
"Yes, I remember that you did," replied the principal. "However, I want you to read this."
Grace took the paper, looking rather perplexed, and read:
"Ask Miss Harlowe what she was doing in your office between half past one and a quarter of two yesterday.""A Passerby."
"Ask Miss Harlowe what she was doing in your office between half past one and a quarter of two yesterday."
"A Passerby."
"Why—why——" stammered Grace, her eyes growing large with wonder. "I don't understand. I came here at that time, for I looked at the clock as I came in, but I was only here for a second."
Then the truth dawned upon her. "Why, Miss Thompson," she cried, "you surely don't think I tore up your essay?"
"No, Grace, I don't," replied the principal. "But I believe that the one who wrote this note is the one who did do it, and evidently wishes to fasten the guilt upon you. It looks to me as though we had a common enemy. Do you recognize either the paper or the writing?"
"No," replied Grace slowly, shaking her head. "Vertical writing all looks alike. The paper is peculiar. It is note paper, but different from any I ever saw before. It looks like——"
She stopped suddenly, a shocked look creeping into her eyes.
"What is it, Grace?" said Miss Thompson, who had been closely watching her.
"I—just—had a queer idea," faltered Grace.
"If you suspect any one, Grace, it is your duty to tell me," said the principal. "I cannot pass lightly over such a piece of wanton destruction. To clear up this mystery, should be a matter of vital interest to you, too, as this letter is really an insinuation against you."
Grace was silent.
"I am waiting for you, Grace," said the principal. "Will you do as I wish?"
The tears rushed to Grace's eyes. "Forgive me, Miss Thompson," she said tremulously, "but I can tell you nothing."
"You are doing wrong, Grace, in withholding your knowledge," said the older woman rather sternly, "and I am greatly displeased at your stubbornness. Ordinarily I would not ask you to betray any of your schoolmates, but in this instance I am justified, and you are making a serious mistake in sacrificing your duty upon the altar of school-girl honor."
"I am sorry, Miss Thompson," said Grace, striving to steady her voice. "I value your good opinion above everything, but I can tell you nothing you wish to know. Please, please don't ask me."
"Very well," responded the principal in a tone of cold dismissal, turning to her desk.
With a half-stifled sob, Grace hurried from the room. For the first time, since entering High School, she had incurred the displeasure of her beloved principal, and all for the sake of a girl who was unworthy of the sacrifice. For Grace had recognized the paper. It was precisely the same style of paper on which Eleanor Savell had declined her Thanksgiving invitation.
The dress rehearsal for "As You Like It" was over. It had been well nigh perfect. The costumes had for the most part been on hand, as the senior class of five years previous had given the same play and bequeathed their paraphernalia to those who should come after. Rosalind's costumes had to be altered to fit Anne, however, on account of her lack of stature. Also the lines in the text where Rosalind refers to her height underwent some changes. The final details having been attended to, Miss Tebbs and Miss Kane found time to congratulate each other on the smoothness of the production, which bade fair to surpass anything of the kind ever before given. There was not a weak spot in the cast. Anne's work had seemed to grow finer with every rehearsal.
She had won the repeated applause of the group of teachers who had been invited to witness this trial performance. Grace, Nora, Eleanor and Miriam had ably supported her and there had been tears of proud joy in Miss Tebbs's eyes as she had watched the clever and spirited acting of these girls.
"Be sure and put your costumes exactly where they belong," called Miss Tebbs as the girls filed off the stage into the dressing room after the final curtain. "Then you will have no trouble to-morrow night. We want to avoid all eleventh-hour scrambling and exciting costume hunts."
Laughing merrily, the girls began choosing places to hang their costumes in the big room off the stage where they were to dress. Anne, careful little soul that she was, piled her paraphernalia neatly in one corner, and taking a slip of paper from her bag wrote "Rosalind" upon it, pinning it to her first-act costume.
"The eternal labeler," said Nora, with her ever-ready giggle, as she watched Anne. "Are you afraid it will run away, little Miss Fussbudget!"
"No; of course not," said Anne, smiling. "I just marked it because——"
"You have the marking habit," finished Jessica. "Come on, girls. Don't tease Anne. Let her put tags on herself if she wants to. Then a certain young man who is waiting outside for her will be sure to recognize her. Has anyone seen that Allison child? It's time she put in an appearance."
"Just listen to Grandmother Bright," teased Anne. "She is hunting her lost chick, as usual."
With merry laugh and jest the girls prepared for the street. Grace and her friends were among the first to leave, and hurried to the street, where the boys awaited them.
"Hurrah for the only original ranters and barnstormers on exhibition in this country," cried Hippy, waving his hat in the air.
"Cease, Hippopotamus," said Nora. "You are mistaken. We are stars, but we shall refuse to twinkle in your sky unless you suddenly become more respectful."
"He doesn't know the definition of the word," said David.
"How cruelly you misjudge me," said Hippy. "I meant no disrespect. It was a sudden attack of enthusiasm. I get them spasmodically."
"So we have observed," said Nora dryly. "Let's not stand here discussing you all night. Come on up to my house, and we'll make fudge and have things to eat."
"I have my car here," said David. "Pile into it and we'll be up there in a jiffy."
"It's awfully late," demurred Grace. "After ten o'clock."
"Never mind that," said Nora. "Your mother knows you can take care of yourself. You can 'phone to her from my house."
In another minute the young people had seated themselves in the big car and were off.
"Did you see Eleanor's runabout standing there?" Nora asked Grace.
"Yes," replied Grace. "I was rather surprised, too. She hasn't used it much of late."
"How beautiful she looked to-night, didn't she?" interposed Jessica.
"Are you talking of the would-be murderess, who froze us all out Thanksgiving Day?" asked Hippy. "What is her latest crime?"
Grace felt like saying "Destroying other people's property and getting innocent folks disliked," but refrained. She had told no one of her interview with Miss Thompson. Grace knew that the principal was still displeased with her. She was no longer on the old terms of intimacy with Miss Thompson. A barrier seemed to have sprung up between them, that only one thing could remove, but Grace was resolved not to expose Eleanor—not that she felt that Eleanor did not richly deserve it, but she knew that it would mean instant expulsion from school. She believed that Eleanor had acted on the impulse of the moment, and was without doubt bitterly sorry for it, and she felt that as long as Eleanor had at last begun to be interested in school, the thing to do was to keep her there, particularly as Mrs. Gray had recently told her of Miss Nevin's pleasure at the change that the school had apparently wrought in Eleanor.
Could Grace have known what Eleanor was engaged in at the moment she would have felt like exposing her without mercy.
During the first rehearsals Grace, secretly fearing an outbreak on Eleanor's part, had been on the alert, but as rehearsals progressed and Eleanor kept strictly to herself, Grace relaxed her vigilance.
Directly after the chums had hurried out of the hall to meet the boys, Miss Tebbs had decided that opening the dressing room on the other side of the stage would relieve the congestion and insure a better chance for all to dress. Calling to the girls who still remained to move their belongings to that side, Miss Tebbs hurried across the stage to find the janitor and see that the door was at once unlocked. By the time the door was opened and the lights turned on the remaining girls flocked in, their arms piled high with costumes.
Foremost among them was Eleanor. Hastily depositing her own costumes in one corner of the dressing room, she darted across the stage and into the room from which she had just moved her effects.
It was empty. She glanced quickly about. Like a flash she gathered up a pile of costumes marked "Rosalind," covered them with her long fur coat and ran through the hall and downthe steps to where her runabout was stationed. Crowding them hastily into the bottom of the machine, she slipped on her coat, made ready her runabout and drove down the street like the wind, not lessening her speed until she reached the drive at "Heartsease."
The young people passed a merry hour at Nora's, indulging in one of their old-time frolics, that only lacked Tom Gray's presence to make the original octette complete.
"We'll be in the front row to-morrow night," said Hippy, as the young folks trooped out to the car. "I have engaged a beautiful bunch of green onions from the truck florist, Reddy has put all his money into carrots of a nice lively color, the exact shade of his hair, while I have advised Davy here to invest in turnips. They are nice and round and hard, and will hit the stage with a resounding whack, providing he can throw straight enough to hit anything. He can carry them in a paper bag and——"
But before he could say more he was seized by David and Reddy and rushed unceremoniously into the street, while the girls signified their approbation by cries of "good enough for him" and "make him promise to behave to-morrow night."
"I will. I swear it," panted Hippy. "Onlydon't rush me over the ground so fast. I might lose my breath and never, never catch it again."
"Oh, let him go," said Nora, who had accompanied them down the walk. "I'll have a private interview with him to-morrow and that will insure his good behavior."
"Thank you, angel Nora," replied Hippy gratefully. "You will be spared any obnoxious vegetables, even though the others may suffer."
"For that you walk," said David, who had dropped Hippy and was engaged in helping the girls into the machine.
"Never," replied Hippy, making a dive for the automobile. "I shall sit at the feet of the fair Jessica. Reddy will be so pleased."
"Every one ready?" sang out David, as he took his place at the wheel after cranking up the machine.
"All ready, let her go," was the chorus, and the machine whizzed down the street.
The big dressing rooms on each side of the stage at Assembly Hall were ablaze with light. There was a hum of girlish voices and gay laughter, and all the pleasant excitement attending an amateur production prevailed. The dressing had been going on for the last hour, and now a goodly company of courtiers and dames stood about waiting while Miss Tebbs and Miss Kane rapidly "made up their faces" with rouge and powder. This being done to prevent them from looking too pale when in the white glare of the footlights.
Miriam Nesbit as the "Duke" looked particularly fine, and the girls gathered around her with many exclamations of admiration. Nora's roguish face looked out from her fool's cap in saucy fashion as she flitted about jingling her bells. Grace made a handsome Orlando, while Jessica looked an ideal shepherdess.
"Where's Anne?" said Grace as Nora paused in front of her. "I haven't see her to-night. I suppose she's over in the other dressing room. Miss Tebbs said that some of the costumes were moved over there after we left last night. Whattime is it? I didn't wear my watch to-night because I didn't want to risk losing it."
"It's almost half past seven," said Jessica. "I asked Miss Tebbs for the time just a few minutes ago."
"Let's go and find Anne at once, then," said Nora. "It's getting late, and she surely is dressed by this time. Then we'll look through the hole in the curtain at the house. People are beginning to arrive."
"Wait a minute," said Jessica. "There's Mabel. Doesn't she look great as Jaques? Come here, dear," called Jessica.
Mabel Allison joined the three girls, who hurried across the stage to the other dressing room in search of Anne Pierson.
"Why, I don't see her here," cried Grace, making a quick survey of the room. "She must be somewhere about, for——"
"There she goes now," exclaimed Nora, who stood in the door, looking out on the stage, "and she has her hat and coat on. How strange. I wonder if she knows how late it is?"
Sure enough, Anne was hurrying toward the opposite dressing room.
The three girls made a rush for her.
"Why, Anne," said Grace. "What is the matter? We thought you had dressed over here and were looking for you."
"Girls," replied Anne, "I've been on a wild-goose chase. I can't stop to tell you about it now, but you shall hear as soon as I have a chance. Will you help me with my costume and make-up? I'm awfully late, and haven't a minute to spare."
"Why of course we will," said Grace. "Give me your hat and coat, dear. Where did you put your costumes? It won't take you long to dress, for most of the girls are dressed and over on the other side, so you have the place to yourself."
"Over in that corner," replied Anne, taking off her collar and unfastening her white shirt waist. "Don't you remember, I labeled them and you laughed at me for doing so?"
"Of course we do," said Nora, making a dive for the corner where Anne had piled her costumes the previous night. "They're not here," she announced after a brief but thorough search. "Miss Tebbs must have had them moved to the other room. She opened it last night after we left. Grace, you help Anne, and Jessica and Mabel and I will run across and look for them." With these words, Nora was off, the other two girls at her heels.
"Tell me what kept you, Anne," said Grace, as the latter began arranging her hair for the first act.
"Grace," said Anne rather tremulously, "I won't wait until the others come back to tell you why I came so late. Just after I had finished my supper and was putting on my wraps a boy came to the door with this note." Anne went over to where her coat hung and took out an envelope. Drawing a note from it, she silently handed it to Grace, who read: