Part 7 (2/2)
The first short scene was wooden enough in all conscience, but Judith remembered her words, and as the story progressed she got a better grip on herself surprising and delighting Eleanor and those who were in the secret by her spirited acting.
But at the end of Act Three, Nancy, who had slipped behind the scenes to congratulate her chum, and to tell her that her wig was the least bit askew, was surprised and alarmed to find Judith almost in tears.
”I can't do the last act, Nancy, I simply can't. My face feels all stiff and solemn. I can't laugh and joke, I can't, no matter how I try”--and two tears actually rolled down her cheeks. She was tired out, and the very imagination which had made it possible for her to be for the moment the gloomy old miser, now made it seem impossible for her to change him in a few minutes into a jolly, generous, incarnation of old Father Christmas.
Nancy was horrified and distracted. She did her best, but with seemingly no avail, and then she had one of those inspirations, which seem almost heaven-sent. Hurrying back and learning that there were still four or five minutes before the curtain would rise, she sought Catherine, who luckily had left her seat during the interlude.
”Captain,” she said, saluting, ”there is one of the crew who needs your help; can you come at once?”
And then, as they neared the stage--
”It's Judy, Cathy,” she whispered; ”do buck her up. She has been such a brick, but she is so tired that she feels that she can't do the last act.”
Catherine waited for no more explanations, but went swiftly behind the curtain, where she found Judith trying to look cheerful, but making a dismal failure of it. ”Careful,” said Cathy to herself. ”I mustn't be sympathetic or she will break down.”
Judith looked up, and instead of the dreaded warning that the curtain was going up, here was Catherine saluting her merrily.
”Good work, Judy! The 'Jolly Susan' needs a first mate; can I induce you to accept the job?” And she put a steadying arm round the new mate's shoulders. ”You've been splendid; we're all proud of you, and especially we of the 'Jolly Susan.'”
No more question of can or can't. Judith felt that she could do anything for her captain and here was a chance. She threw herself into the unforgettable scene of Scrooge's awakening, and the whole school was infected with the joyousness of her declaration: ”I am as light as a feather. I am as happy as an angel. I am as merry as a schoolboy. A Merry Christmas to everybody, a Happy New Year to all the world. Hullo, here, whoop! Hullo.”
And every one was quite ready to agree with Scrooge's declaration at the end of the scene, ”Wonderful party, wonderful games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!”
The New Girls were cheered to the echo by the School, and the party which was voted a great success ended with cake and lemonade and a delightful Sir Roger de Coverly in which every one took part.
Judith, dancing with Bob Cratchit, felt supremely happy, and her cup was filled to overflowing by Miss Meredith's words as she said good-night.
”Congratulations on your success, Judith, you gave us a fine presentation of Scrooge, and Eleanor tells me you had very little time for preparation.”
And then the delightful whispered conferences upstairs after ”Lights Out” bell had rung--Catherine turned a deaf ear, for discipline must occasionally be relaxed.
”Did you see Mr. Fezziwig's coat, Judy?”
”Wasn't Mrs. Cratchit too funny for words?”
”Wasn't the ghost splendid?”
”I s.h.i.+vered all over when he was speaking,” Nancy declared; and so on and so on, until Judith fell asleep and dreamed that she was dancing the Sir Roger with Miss Meredith arrayed as Mrs. Cratchit, and that, so arrayed, Miss Meredith had proceeded to the platform and had read out the term's marks beginning with Five A. First, Judith Benson; second, Joyce Hewson; third, Nancy Nairn.
It was a good thing that Judith had the fun of her dream because in the lists read out after prayers next morning our heroine stood fourth, in Five A, but that didn't spoil her morning, such a happy morning. Desks were tidied, Christmas presents tied up, suitcases packed, and at twelve o'clock a short Christmas service was held in Big Hall.
The carols which they had been learning the last few weeks at morning prayers were sung now with a right good will to the accompaniment of the School orchestra. And then Miss Meredith, having read the beautiful Christmas story, explained the meaning of its message so clearly, so simply, and yet so earnestly, and with such a pa.s.sionate longing that from York Hill there should indeed radiate ”Peace and good will towards all men,” that not the stupidest nor the most frivolous girl but was touched to a sense of higher ideals and n.o.bler living.
Every girl in the School knew that the Head Mistress was humbly striving to embody in her own life the high ideals she held before her pupils, and because of this they listened. Doubtless some of the seed fell by the wayside, some into hard and stony ground, some was choked by the deceit and riches of this world, but other seed fell into good ground and brought forth abundantly, ”some thirty, some sixty, and some an hundred-fold.”
CHAPTER VII
<script>