A Fourth Form Friendship (13 page)

"I shan't be such a bad one, I'm sure!" declared Ursula, rather offended. "You wouldn't make a better, Aldred; your hair's darker than mine."

"Well, I don't know how Lorna is going to learn all Fatima's long part," Aldred ventured to object; "she never gets through her recitations in class without a mistake."

"I'll manage, thank you!" retorted Lorna. "Besides, there's always the prompter behind the piano."

"The prompter! You ought never to rely on that!"

"I didn't say I was going to."

"Yes, you did! If people undertake a part, they ought at least to know the words, or let somebody else have it."

"I shan't give up my part at your bidding!"

"You're misunderstanding each other," interposed Mabel. "Aldred never meant she wanted you to give up your part, Lorna; I'm sure she was only sympathizing because she knows you find it hard to learn things."

"It's a queer form of sympathy, then!" grumbled Lorna. "I thought she wanted to be Fatima herself."

"Oh, no! That's most unlike Aldred. I wonder you could imagine for an instant that she would have such a motive! I think, when we decided to abide by the lot, it would be a mistake to have any changing; and we'd better set to work and learn some of our speeches, so that we can rehearse the first scene, at any rate, to-morrow. We must each borrow the book in turn, and keep looking at it in any odd moments we can spare."

"Yes; there won't be too much time, with all the costumes to think about as well," agreed the others.

Aldred mastered the dozen lines that fell to the Attendant in a few minutes, and handed the book on to Sister Anne. Feeling sure of her portion in the play, she could afford to criticize the others, and set to work to coach them vigorously at the evening rehearsal. Though some of them were not willing to fall in with her suggestions, she managed to make herself so prominent that, in spite of themselves, the girls allowed her to assume the leadership, and to constitute herself a kind of stage manager.

"Aldred is quite right," said Mabel, backing her up; "we certainly were not saying our speeches with half enough dramatic emphasis, and we weren't putting any spirit into them. I feel I was too tame."

"We haven't got as far as 'dramatic emphasis'," said Phoebe. "That would come afterwards."

"It's better to practise it as we go along, and as Aldred has had so much experience of private theatricals, we had better take her advice, and let her show us how it ought to be done."

Aldred's boasted experience was really confined to a few charades with the Rectory children at home; but she had considerable natural talent for acting, and could throw herself heart and soul into a part. It tried her very much to hear Fatima and Bluebeard give a dialogue as if they were repeating a lesson, to see the Brothers come strolling up to the rescue, instead of rushing in with hot haste; and to watch the very un-sylph-like movements of the Fairy.

"This is the way it should be done!" she would cry, and would go through the speeches herself, giving word and action as if she were really the character she was impersonating, her eyes flashing with enthusiasm and her cheeks aglow. Not one of her stage pupils could approach her fire, or the various delicate modulations of her voice; even Mabel, who tried her best, was very far behind.

"I can't put so much expression into what I'm saying!" declared Dora. "I have to think all the time whether I'm getting the words right."

"But you ought to know the words so well that you don't need to think about them--only to feel what Bluebeard would be feeling!" returned Aldred, who by this time could remember every separate speech in the play much better than the actresses themselves. "Can't you imagine yourself haughty and pompous, when you give Fatima the keys?"

"Why, no! I want to laugh!" giggled Dora.

Aldred stamped her foot; it was too irritating to see the part of Bluebeard usurped by one who had so little conception of his character. Dora's undignified rendering of the part was a constant annoyance. Fatima, too, was a great trial; she repeated her sentences in a monotonous, sing-song voice, without a vestige of passion.

"You take the keys from Bluebeard as if Miss Bardsley were handing you an exercise-book!" remonstrated Aldred. "And as for the cupboard scene, you look inside and say, 'Oh!' as casually as if there were nothing there!"

"Well, there is nothing there!" retorted Lorna, rather resentful of so much interference.

"Oh, Lorna! There are the horrid, bleeding heads of all the former wives. Can't you pretend you see them, and give a proper shriek? Do let us have the piece again! You ought to look half-curious half-frightened, as you open the door, and then, when you've taken one peep, you should scream, and fall back nearly fainting with horror!"

It seemed no use, however. In spite of all Aldred's coaching and practical illustrations, Lorna could not rise to the required pitch, and continued to give the thrilling scene with the utmost tameness. Aldred was desperate. She felt that the success of the play depended upon this particular situation being adequately depicted, and was determined that Lorna should be forced to give a genuine start; and with that end in view she hatched a little plot. The rehearsals took place in the classroom, and Fatima was accustomed to use the ordinary door, to represent that of the fatal cupboard. Aldred persuaded one of the servants to dress up in a sheet and wait about in the passage, so that when Lorna looked out she should see something calculated to surprise her. Nellie, an under-housemaid, willingly entered into the scheme, and even improved upon it, according to her own ideas, by whitening her face with flour, so as to make herself as ghost-like as possible.

Aldred felt quite excited when Scene III was begun. She managed, without attracting anybody's attention, to take a stealthy peep through the doorway. Yes, there was Nellie, standing quite ready, and horrible enough to make even Aldred jump, though she was expecting to see her. All was in good training, and Lorna was rapidly coming to the fatal lines. She delivered them with her usual lack of fire:

"The key fits well--now, wherefore should I fear? I will at last discover what's in here! Bluebeard's a hundred miles away in Spain; In ignorance no longer I'll remain. Turn, little key! Ope, door, for good or ill! Reveal your secret--know I must and will!"

She flung open the door, as she had done at every rehearsal, in an absolutely wooden manner, and with neither interest nor curiosity in her tone; but her expression changed when she saw the vision in the passage, and for once in her life she accomplished a very excellent representation of the part. She shrieked with a horror that was only too natural, and drew back with a face as white as that of the sham ghost outside.

The girls applauded furiously.

"Well done!"

"Good!"

"Splendid!"

"Why, what's the matter?"

"Lorna, are you acting?"

"Oh, I say! Catch her, quick; she's really fainting!"

Chinese Lanterns

Aldred's plot had been only too successful. Lorna's nerves were not of the strongest, and the apparition in the passage had been utterly unexpected; so, although she did not actually lose consciousness, she lay for a few moments with her eyes shut, and considerably terrified the other girls.

"Bring some water, somebody!" said Mabel, who was kneeling on the floor, holding the luckless Fatima in her arms.

"I'll get it!" cried Aldred, springing up before anyone else could volunteer, and darting hurriedly out of the room. It had just occurred to her that she might probably be blamed for this incident, and she wanted to avoid that if it were still possible.

"You must go, Nellie!" she whispered to the housemaid. "The girls will tell Miss Drummond if they catch you, and you'll get into trouble!"

"But I thought it was to be a bit of a joke, miss!" remonstrated Nellie, who could not see where the fun had come in.

"They don't see the joke. You'd better run! Do you want Miss Drummond to find you playing ghost, when you ought to be turning down the beds?"

Aldred had been forcing Nellie along the passage as she spoke, and now she tore the sheet from the latter's shoulders, and flung it down the back stairs.

"Go and wash your face!" she commanded. "I didn't ask you to whiten it. You've made far more of this than I intended."

Nellie departed to the kitchen regions, highly offended. She considered she had been badly treated, but, as she certainly did not wish Miss Drummond to learn anything of the affair, she took Aldred's advice, washed her face, put the sheet away, and only aired her grievance to her fellow-servants.

Aldred, congratulating herself upon the success of her promptitude, fetched a glass of water to the classroom. Lorna had in a great measure recovered herself, but she was still pale and shaky, and anxious to claim sympathy.

"I saw something all in white in the passage!" she was assuring the other girls.

"Nonsense!" said Aldred brusquely. "How could you? Drink this, and you'll feel better."

"She must have seen something!" declared Phoebe and Ursula.

"Well, there's nothing there now, at any rate. Go and look for yourselves, if you don't believe me!"

"Perhaps the Third Form were playing us a trick," suggested Dora.

"It's extremely probable," returned Aldred. "Phyllis Carson loves practical jokes."

"It must have been Phyllis," said Lorna. "It looked very like her, and it is just the kind of thing she'd enjoy doing."

"It was a great shame of whoever it was, to give you such a scare!" said Mabel. "It's never safe to frighten people, and I hate sham ghosts myself. Do you feel well enough to go on with the scene, or shall we stop for to-night?"

This incident (of which Alfred never divulged the authorship) had at least the desired effect of considerably improving Fatima's acting. Perhaps a nervous remembrance of what she had really seen returned to her in future when she opened the door, and supplied the lack of imagination; at any rate, she would give a very passable start and scream, and her whole manner was more interested and full of life. Even Bluebeard, owing to Aldred's exertions, learnt to suppress his ill-timed mirth, and to thunder as a domestic tyrant should; and the fairy, if not exactly graceful, to wave her wand elegantly, instead of brandishing it like a hockey stick or golf club. Having thus far perfected the business of the play, the girls turned their attention to costumes and scenery.

"We've only ten days left, so we must be very quick," said Mabel. "I've written home to Mother to send us anything suitable that she can spare. I think she'll let us have two gauzy veils and some glass bangles that she got in Jerusalem; they'd do nicely for Fatima and me. And perhaps she'll lend two daggers for the Brothers; but if she won't, we shall have to make cardboard ones, and cover them with silver paper."

"My sister has promised to send us some Chinese lanterns," said Phoebe. "They'll look lovely, and give quite an Eastern air to the thing."

"Yes, we want the first scene to look like a piece out of the Arabian Nights," agreed Agnes Maxwell. "I'm rather anxious about Dora's costume; how are we to manage the beard?"

"Would blue Berlin wool do?"

"Rather expensive--we should have to use so much of it."

"A piece of blue tissue paper, cut into shreds?"

"No, thanks! I should look like a fly-catcher!" laughed Dora.

"Then I don't know."

"I can manage a beard, if you'll leave it to me," said Aldred. "I have a splendid idea."

"What?"

"Get a piece of new rope, and untwist it and comb it out; the tow is exactly like stiff, white hair. Then we'll dip it in strong Reckitt's Blue, and let it dry."

"Splendid!" chorused the girls.

Aldred's fertile brain was full of plans and suggestions. She not only made a most successful beard, but contrived fierce moustaches for the Brothers, and (greatest triumph of all!) even twined the tow into long, flaxen ringlets for Ursula, which certainly suited her appearance as a fairy better than her own dark locks.

Each Form was to have its act on a separate evening during the last week of the term, and the Fourth was accorded the privilege of the opening performance.

"Miss Drummond calls it a 'privilege'," said Phoebe, "but I think it's a doubtful one! It's like singing the first song at a concert. I always hate starting anything!"

"We shan't be quite so much criticized as if we came last, though," said Myfanwy. "They can't compare our acting with the others'."

"No; and if the Sixth Form are getting up anything very grand and literary, 'Bluebeard' would sound pantomimey after it," agreed Mabel.

"And we shall have got ours over, and can enjoy the others' nights with free minds," added Agnes.

Nevertheless, it was a responsibility to feel that they must make a good beginning, and all worked hard to bring each little detail as near perfection as possible. The entertainments were always given in the dining-hall; it was a big room, with a door at each end, and had a brass rod fixed permanently to support a curtain, so that it was very convenient for performances. The actors could use the kitchen entrance, and have the large pantry beyond for a dressing-room, while the audience came in by the ordinary door.

The first scene was "An Apartment in Bluebeard's Palace", and the Form displayed all its ingenuity in trying to make a brave show of barbaric magnificence. Several gay shawls were hung over clothes-horses, and draped with scarves and sashes; the sofa, covered with a Turkish rug, represented an Eastern divan; Miss Drummond had lent a small Moorish table from the drawing-room and a hammered brass tray, with a quaint coffee-pot--contributions which greatly helped the Oriental effect. But the most precious "property" of all was the miscellaneous collection of Chinese lanterns that Phoebe's sister had sent. They were very fine ones, of various sizes, shapes, and colours; and added such a gala touch to the rest of the scenery as to make Bluebeard's Palace seem
en fête
.

"The difficulty is to know where to hang them," said Aldred, holding up a combination of red, blue, and green, and admiring the brilliance of the result.