"I should love it—but Merryl can't act!"
"She'll do for dumb show—it will be hardly more than that. Mind you don't use the word theatricals before my uncle and aunt."
"But won't they know when the day comes? And—do you think you—ought?"
"That's my business; not yours! Of course they will know when the day comes. They can't help it then; so it will not matter. They can say what they like afterwards."
Magda succumbed. "What sort of play is it to be?" she asked.
"Written by a friend of mine—on purpose for me. Something quite uncommon. A Queen of Beauty, living on an island, and being wooed by two Princes from other islands. Not many characters, and I shall take the part of the Queen, of course. I want you and Beatrice Major for my attendants. Your colouring and hers will look well together; and Merryl shall be the waiting-maid. She will only have to say a word or two at a time. My part is much the longest of any. Yours will be easily learnt. But I must have two men for the princes; and Rob is to be the successful one."
"Rob never cares for acting."
"He will have to care—if I wish it."
Magda was again astonished.
"His part is not difficult. I thought of Mr. Ivor for the second prince; but he says he has no time for getting it up. It wants some one with a turn for the comic. I've been rather wondering—how about that other cousin of Mrs. Miles who was here—Mr. Fairfax?"