Part 19 (1/2)
MISS GOWAN BARBOUR..............The Daisy of Chilcombe
MISS BERTHA CHESTERS...................(Our Bert)
Have half an hour of Fun and Pathos It will do you good to laugh and cry
SILVER COLLECTION]
This they placed temporarily in the pa.s.sage, but when the girls had giggled over it sufficiently they removed it, for fear its attractions might tempt some of the mistresses into asking permission to attend, a fatality which must at all costs be avoided.
The performers spent a hectic day making arrangements. The time allowed in their dormitory was necessarily limited, so preparations were a scramble. The four beds were moved and placed as seats, and one corner of the room was reserved as the stage. Carmel's dressing-room made an excellent ”green room,” and gave the Blue Grotto a substantial theatrical lift over other dormitories.
Ten minutes before the hour, five distracted actresses were struggling to complete their impromptu toilets.
”I'm so rocky, I know I shan't be able to say anything at all!”
fluttered Dulcie.
”Nonsense! Pull yourself together, child!” urged Gowan. ”Get some stiffening into you, can't you?”
”I'm going to have umpteen dozen fits!”
”You've got to reckon with me if you spoil the play, so there! Don't be a silly c.o.c.kchafer!”
”Are we downhearted?” twittered Bertha.
”No!” answered a stalwart chorus of three, hauling up Dulcie, who was sitting on a chair s.h.i.+vering in the agonies of an acute attack of stage fright.
By this time the audience was trooping in, and seating itself upon the beds, and by frantic clapping clamored for the entertainment to begin.
Gowan opened the show, and took the stage in the character of Miss Monica Morton, an elderly spinster. Her make-up was very good, considering the limited resources of the company. Some cotton wool did service for white hair neatly arranged under a boudoir cap; her dress (borrowed from Noreen, who was a head taller than Gowan) fell to her ankles; she wore spectacles, and wrinkles had been carefully painted across her forehead. Bertha, a forward chit of a maidservant (servants on the stage invariably a.s.sume a cheekiness of manner that would never be tolerated by any employer in private life), bounced in and handed her a letter, and stood making grimaces to the audience while her mistress--very foolishly--read its contents aloud. It ran thus:
”11 PARK LANE, ”MAYFAIR.
”DEAREST MONICA,
”We are sending Dorothea down to you by the first train in the morning, and we beg you will keep a strict eye on her. An individual named Montague Ponsonby has been paying her great attentions, and we wish to break off the attachment. He is well born, but absolutely penniless, and as Dorothea will some day be an heiress, we do not wish her to throw herself away upon him. Please do your best to prevent any such folly.
”Your affectionate sister, ”ELIZABETH STRONG.”
Miss Morton, on grasping the drift of this epistle, exhibited symptoms of distress. She flung out her arms in a dramatic att.i.tude, and confided to the audience her disinclination to take over the unwelcome task of becoming duenna to her niece. There was no other course open to her, apparently; the idea of sending the girl home by the next train, or of hastily packing her own box and departing somewhere on urgent business did not seem to occur to her. She grumbled, but accepted the responsibility, and Jemima, the pert maidservant, made faces behind her back, till summoned by a violent knocking, when she flew to the door and admitted Dorothea, with bag and baggage.
Lilias, as the fas.h.i.+onable niece, was ”got up regardless.” Her hair was done in a Grecian knot, a veil was twisted round her picture hat, and she sailed into the room with the a.s.surance of a Society beauty.
Aunt Monica, suppressing the letter of warning, gave the customary greetings, then--with the imprudence characteristic of a stage aunt--announced her intention of going out to do shopping while her niece unpacked her possessions.
Instead of doing anything so sensible as to unpack, Dorothea sank into a chair, and in an att.i.tude of great languor and despair confided her love affairs to the sympathetic and interested servant, who swore fealty and offered all possible a.s.sistance. Her kind intentions were put at once to the test, for immediately another violent knocking was heard, she flung open the door, and after a whispered colloquy announced ”Mr. Montague Ponsonby.”
The entrance of Carmel, as hero of the drama, created quite a sensation.
Materials for masculine attire were scanty at Chilcombe Hall, and, as the girls felt rather mean for not having invited the mistresses to their performance, they had not dared to ask for the loan of any theatrical properties, and had been obliged to concoct costumes from anything that came to hand. Carmel had put her feet through the sleeves of her brown knitted jumper, and drawn it up so that the cuffs fitted just below her knees, and made a really striking resemblance to a pair of gentleman's sporting breeches. A coat covered any deficiencies at the waist, a paper collar and a scarlet tie encircled her throat, india-rubber waders did service for top-boots, her hair was tucked under a felt hat (with the tr.i.m.m.i.n.g wrenched off), and last, but not least, her lip was adorned with the black mustache which Prissie had used on Hallowe'en. She looked such a magnificent and sporting object, that it was no wonder the fas.h.i.+onable Dorothea fell into her arms.