CHAPTER XII
"Lady Tracy's At Home"
During almost the whole of the term the Dramatic Society had flourishedamong the boarders. That is to say, the prefects had chosen a play, hadtaken the best parts for themselves, and had allotted the minor parts tothose girls who were fortunate enough to be their favourites. Theparticular piece they had selected was named "Lady Tracy's At Home", andincluded a large number of characters. Many of these were only in thenature of "supers", and had no words to say; others had a few shortspeeches. All the main action of the play centred on six principals, whowere represented by the four prefects, with Muriel Knighton and MabelDennis, also members of the Sixth Form. There had been endlessrehearsals. Adah, as stage manager, was extremely particular, anddrilled her company remorselessly.
"We've got to make it a good show this time," she assured them."Remember, we're a big school now, and we shall be acting to a largeaudience. I expect those day girls will be fairly critical, so wemustn't give them any opportunity to find fault. Let's show them we knowhow to act."
"They used to have plays at their old school," volunteered Consie.
"I suppose they did, but I dare say they weren't up to much. You see, asthey weren't boarders, they couldn't have had proper time forrehearsals, and perhaps didn't think out their costumes as we're doing."
"Very likely they only took Shakespeare or scenes from Dickens, orsomething tame of that kind," nodded Isobel.
Miss Thompson had allowed the Dramatic Society a certain wideness ofchoice, so they had abandoned the classics, which seemed to savour toomuch of the schoolroom, and had selected an entirely modern andup-to-date comedy. In their eyes it was going to rival a piece from thereal theatre. They had all seen up-to-date acting, and had their idealsof what a comedy ought to be.
"You must try to live in your parts beforehand, so that you catch thespirit of them," counselled Adah. "I've heard that Ellen Terry and SarahBernhardt always did that. It was the secret of their success. Throwyourself into your character till you entirely realize it."
"I suppose that's the artistic temperament," agreed Consie. "It would begorgeous to take up the stage as a career, wouldn't it?"
"The stage of the future is going to be a School of Education for thePeople," moralized Adah. "Conscientious and cultured actresses will be awant."
"Miss Hopkins says Nature never creates a vacuum," ventured Joyce.
"Trust Mother Nature! If there's a want, she'll send someone to fill thegap."
"Only, of course, they've got to train themselves. There's nothing likebeginning when one's young. And having the wish is half the battle."
As a result of this serious interest in dramatic culture, the characterof the six "principals" underwent sudden and astonishing changes.Isobel, erstwhile a rather shy and retiring maiden, put on a perkinessand a coy assurance very puzzling indeed to anybody who did not knowthat _pro tem._ she was Miss Diana Davenport, the beautiful, dashing,fascinating Society debutante, who was breaking the hearts of young andold in fashionable Mayfair. She practised casting a glamour over peopleand glancing from under veiled lashes, and succeeded fairly well withthose who understood and played up, but indifferently with Miss Hopkins,who asked her if she were suffering from an attack of indigestion, andwhether a dose of sal volatile would relieve the pain. Muriel, whoserole was that of Diana's rejected lover, Lord Darcy Howard, went aboutendeavouring to remember that she had a broken heart. She sighedfrequently, kept an expression of yearning in her eyes, and smiled asad, wan smile, fraught with memories. She maintained a calm, yetmelancholy dignity, befitting one who is singled out by fate fordisappointment, heroism, and an early grave. It was really a verydifficult part for Muriel, whose natural tastes inclined to a moresporting character, and she would have preferred to act a comic Irishservant; but Adah assured her that it was useless to think of the stageunless she was prepared for all emergencies, and could take any rolethat might be offered her. Adah herself, as Lady Tracy, had blossomedinto a loquacious, clever, manoeuvring, brilliant hostess, much set onworldly advantages, and immediately concerned with the due disposal inlife of her daughter Marigold. Adah's manner had always been ratherconsequential, now it surpassed itself, and she swam about the schoolas Queen of Society. Mabel, as Marigold, schooled herself to extremeinnocence. She would practise making round eyes and an engaging poutas she lisped out: "But, Mother dearest, what is the great big worldreally, really like?" After many rehearsals, she succeeded in sidlingbashfully into a room, and extending a timid hand without relapsinginto laughter. Consie, the dashing _debonnaire_ hero of the piece, hadan easier task. It was comparatively simple to stride about payingflowery compliments and carrying all before her. She soon acquired anirresistible manner, and a habit of flinging herself lazily intoarm-chairs and toying with an imaginary watch-chain. She succeeded soadmirably, that when she wore her costume at dress rehearsal, some ofthe girls almost fell in love with her. To Joyce, as the villain, fell aharder lot. It is difficult to live the part of a villain consistentlyfor weeks. At rehearsals, much coached and chivied by Adah, she wouldslink and frown and bite her finger-tips and look daggers, and throwsarcasm into her voice, but off the stage she would relapse at onceinto the comfortable, easygoing, happy-go-lucky ways which usuallycharacterized her personality. She was a sore trial to Adah.
"If you'd ever seen 'Shylock' or 'Mephistopheles', you'd have a betteridea," urged the head girl. "You're not nearly bold and bad enough,somehow. We'll give you a dark wig and a curled moustache, and thatpaper cigar, and you must grind your teeth when Lord Archibald taxes youwith the conspiracy."
"Will the audience hear me grinding them?" asked Joyce helplessly.
"Of course not, stupid! But they'll see your mouth move."
"If the moustache doesn't cover it."
"We'll take care it shan't. Can't you manage to look like 'GentlemanJim' on the cinema when the detective caught him with his hand insidethe safe?"
"I'll try; but how long must I go on looking like that? In the cinemathey whisk on to the next picture in half a second, but on the stageI'll have to stand there, and I don't feel inclined to grind my teethfor five minutes. I hope that tweed suit will fit!"
All the performers felt their costumes to be their last resource,supplying any deficiencies in the acting. They were determined to beultra-fashionable, and sent home for suitable garments. Adah secured aperfect dream of a dress in grey voile trimmed with sequins, and a silkpetticoat that rustled as she walked. They lent an added graciousnessand seal of society to her impressive manner. Isobel borrowed a toque,and a veil with spots, and a feather boa, and a pair of tan boots withhigh French heels, and a large cameo brooch, and a vanity bag, andlooked dashing enough to break the heart of the most hardened anddeliberate woman-hater who ever trod the boards. Her companions, gazingat her bewildered, assured her that she looked at least twenty-one, ifnot more. The way she stretched out a dainty gloved hand and murmured"How d'ye do?" was considered a triumph of acting.
"If we do it really well, of course, we might be asked to give it overagain," Adah confided modestly to her fellows.
"Here?" asked Isobel.
"Well, not necessarily. Sometimes managers lend theatres for charities."
"An amateur play generally makes a heap of money!" opined Joyce.
"It would be lovely to act it in a real theatre!" gasped Mabel.
"The Harlingden Operatic Society cleared thirty pounds for the hospitalby the 'Gondoliers'," volunteered Consie.
In imagination the Silverside Dramatic was already emulating thisgratifying example. They could picture their appearance on the boards ofthe Prince of Wales Theatre before a distinguished audience, includingpossibly the Mayor and Mayoress. Meantime they expected quite a crowdedaudience in the big class-room, and made grand preparations. Theperformance was to be on the last Wednesday afternoon of term at fouro'clock. It was a custom as old as the school. The day girls had alwaysbeen invited to attend, and this year Adah pinned up the usualannouncement on
the notice board. She saw Annie and Gladys sniggeringover it, but set that down to their general lack of manners. She hopedwhat they were going to see would duly impress them. They would surelybe proud to belong to a school that could get up such a dramaticentertainment.
The performers were allowed to stop lessons at 3.15 in order to changetheir costumes, and, after a tremendous amount of breathless work in theway of dressing, accomplished their toilets to their own and everybodyelse's satisfaction.
"You look A1," said Adah to Muriel. "If you don't absolutely take thehouse I shall be really astonished."
Lord Darcy laughed nervously. His clothes were immaculate, but not verycomfortable. He showed decided symptoms of stage fright. Joyce, as thewicked earl, was anxious about the set of her wig. It was rather toolarge, and exhibited a tendency to tilt over on one side unless she heldher head very stiffly erect, an attitude that did not correspond withthe sinuous, snake-like poses which she had practised as appropriate forthe villain of the piece.
"My moustache makes my upper lip quite stiff. I'm sure I speak funnily,"she fluttered.
"No, no, you're all right! I'll tip you a wink if your wig gets crooked,and you can push it straight. Consie, you look an absolute bounder inthat blue tie! If I were Marigold I should prefer the villain instead offalling into your arms."
"Many thanks!" said Lord Archibald, regarding himself in the mirror withsatisfaction. "As you're to be my prospective mother-in-law you ought toappreciate me better!"
"It's high time we began," urged Mabel.
"I'll take a look and see that everything's ready," said Adah.
She ran to the platform and held a hasty review of the stage properties.Yes, all was arranged exactly as she wished. Minnie and Alice had donetheir duty. From the other side of the curtain came the sound oftalking. She could not resist a peep at the audience and applied her eyeto a small chink. What she saw made her gasp. Instead of a wholeschoolroomful of people only the three front rows of seats wereoccupied. Much disturbed she rushed back to the dressing-room, and,calling Mona Bardsley, who was acting prompter, sent her off as scout.
"Go and find out why they're not ready, and tell them to hurry up andtake their places or we shall begin without them," she commanded.
Mona was away some little time. She returned looking decidedly blank.
"They say they're ready and waiting, all those who are coming."
"But the room's only a quarter full! Where are the others?"
"The day girls have nearly all gone home."
"Gone home! Didn't they understand we'd invited them?"
"Oh, yes, but they said they'd rather not stay."
Adah's face was a study.
"Do you mean to say they don't care about seeing our play?"
"So it seems."
"The slackers! They've just done it on purpose, out of spite. Well, ifthis isn't the meanest thing I've ever heard of! How perfectlysickening!"
The injured performers received the bad news with much disgust, buttheir grousing was cut short by the arrival of a fourth-form girl with amessage.
"Miss Thompson says, will you please begin at once, because it's gettingvery late?"
There was nothing for it but to go through the piece with the best gracethey could, before an audience of mistresses, boarders, and about ten ofthe old Silverside day girls. It is poor work playing to an empty house,and they felt that half the spirit had gone out of the performance.Adah's manner was not nearly so gracious and impressive as atrehearsals, Lord Darcy got confused and mixed up his speeches, andMarigold giggled palpably when she ought to have been looking love-lorn.As for the wicked earl, his black moustache dropped off just when he wasin the very midst of his villainy, and spoiled his best point. ThePrincipal and the mistresses clapped their hardest, and so did the restof the scanty audience, but everybody felt that the whole affair hadbeen a fiasco.
"It was very nice, my dears!" said Miss Thompson, congratulating thedisconsolate actresses as they came in to tea afterwards. "Quite one ofthe best plays we've ever had here."
"She means kindly, but she knows it was a failure," whispered Adahgloomily to Consie. "I'll never forgive those day girls!"