"That's good biz," said Kitty. "Now we shall be able to sit all through the Sixth's performance, and do our robing while Vb are on the platform. Then we'll just walk on and astonish everybody."
Punctually at three o'clock the whole school assembled in the big lecture-hall, and took their places, small girls in front, and older ones to the back, with a row of chairs reserved for teachers. In spite of the discretion of the performers, some little hint had leaked out that the afternoon's proceedings were to be of an extra special character, and there was considerable whispering and expectation among the audience. The six players in Va had seats at the end of a bench, so that they could make an easy exit when necessary. They watched with keenest anticipation as the door behind the platform opened and the actors in the French dialogue entered. The rank and file of the school had not expected costumes, and clapped heartily at sight of the quaint figures who were standing bowing and curtsying with eighteenth-century dignity. Kathleen Hodson as Monsieur le Duc de Fontaineville was stately in her top-boots, an evening cloak of her mother's flung across her shoulder, and a sword at her side.
"Silk stockings and buckled shoes would have been more in keeping with the period than those boots," whispered Bess to Mildred. "They haven't taken any trouble over details."
"Dorrie Barlow's cap is only made of tissue-paper," triumphed Mildred. "Wait till they see Eve's."
The wearing of the dresses seemed decidedly inspiring to the performers, who gave their short piece with far more spirit than was their usual custom. To be sure, Monsieur le Duc forgot his sword, and, tripping over it, nearly measured his length on the platform, but he recovered himself with admirable calm, and went on with his speech as if nothing had happened. Susanne, the peasant woman, clattered about in a real pair of sabots, but had the misfortune to step on the train of Madame, her mistress, with rather disastrous results, to judge from the rending sound which ensued. Gertie Raeburn was seized with stage-fright, forgot her lines, and had to be prompted; and Hilda Smith, who enacted the Abbé, was distinctly heard to giggle under her ecclesiastical vestments. In spite of these slight flaws the piece was immensely appreciated, and brought down a storm of applause, under cover of which our six heroines of Va slipped quietly from the room.
There was no time to be lost, for they knew Vb's dialogue was only short. Miss Pollock had placed their parcels in readiness, so they opened them with utmost speed and began their toilets. They all helped one another, and made such a record of haste that in exactly ten minutes they were ready, and listening for the applause which would mark the termination of Vb's performance. At the very first clap they ran down the passage; then, restraining their impatience, waited until their predecessors had made their due exit from the lecture-hall. It was with pardonable pride that they stepped on to the platform and watched the look of amazement which spread over the audience. Nobody had expected them to be in costume—that was evident. The Sixth were looking particularly astonished, indeed almost annoyed. There was a discomfited expression on their faces, highly gratifying to the conspirators. Even Miss Cartwright seemed surprised. The little German play had afforded good opportunity for dressing up, and the girls had certainly risen to the occasion.
Bess Harrison, as "Else, the daughter of the Schloss", wore a charming mediaeval robe, with velvet bodice and slashed sleeves; her long fair hair was plaited in two orthodox braids, and she held a distaff and spindle at which she worked industriously. Mildred, her betrothed, was arrayed as a baron of the Lohengrin type, in a short robe of peacock-blue emblazoned with an heraldic dragon in scarlet. Her golden hair was combed loosely over her shoulders, and surmounted by a small ducal coronet. She had a heavy chain round her neck, and armlets on her bare arms. Kitty Fletcher made a stately mediaeval grandmother, in silken gown, stiff ruffle, coif and wimple, and rattled the keys of the Schloss with great effect as she said her lines. Eve Mitchell as the serving-maid had a cap of real muslin, copied from an old German picture, a green-and-black-striped skirt, cherry-coloured stockings, and buckled shoes; while Maudie Stearne, in her capacity of seneschal, almost surpassed the rest in the gorgeousness of her embroidered cloak, chain armour, and winged helmet.
The girls were on their mettle to do well, and played up most successfully. The whole dialogue went without a single hitch, and the actors threw enough scorn, grief, jealousy, alarm, and devotion into their parts to have sufficed for a longer play. As finally, quite flushed with their efforts, they made their bows to the audience, the appreciative school broke into thunderous applause. The Sixth, nobly repressing any spasms of envy that may have assailed them, were clapping heartily, Miss Cartwright beamed approval, and Fräulein Schulte was all congratulations and smiles.
"Really, this afternoon's dialogues have been a delightful innovation," said the Principal. "The addition of costumes makes an immense improvement. It was a coincidence that the two Forms should have thought of it quite independently of each other. You must have been mutually surprised. I am very pleased indeed, girls. It is a step in the right direction when you organize these things on your own account."
"It isn't quite such a coincidence as Miss Cartwright imagines," chuckled Kitty, as she and her confederates disrobed in the practising room. "She doesn't know who peeped through the skylight."