Alwynne peeped at herself in the little mirror, but her thoughts were with Louise on the other side of the door.
"Clare," said Alwynne uneasily, "you hurt that child."
Clare looked at her oddly.
"Do her good," she said. "Do you think no one has ever hurt me?"
Alwynne was silent. At times her goddess puzzled her.
CHAPTER XXII
To the schoolgirls the dress rehearsal was, if possible, more of an ordeal than the performances themselves. The head mistress attended in state with the entire staff and such of the girls as were not themselves acting. Stray relatives, unable to be present at the play proper, dotted the more distant benches, or were bestowed in the overhanging galleries, while the servants, from portly matron to jobbing gardener, clustered at the back of the hall.
The platform at the upper end had been built out to form a stage, and when, late in the afternoon, the final signal had been given and the improvised curtains drew audibly apart, Clare had fair reason to plume herself on her stage-management.