Alwynne put both her hands on the thin shoulders and shook her gently.
"Louise! Wake up! You're not Prince Arthur now! Gracious me, child—it's only a play. You mustn't take it so seriously."
Louise made no answer; she did not seem to understand.
Alwynne was struck by a new idea. She took the child's face in her hand and turned it to the gaslight.
"Did I see you at lunch, Louise? I don't believe I did. Do you know you're a very naughty child to take advantage of the confusion?"
"Miss Durand, I had to learn. I was forgetting it all. I slipped the last two lines as it was—you know, the 'My uncle's spirit is in these stones' bit. I wasn't hungry."
"And you were very late, too. What did you have for breakfast?"
An agitated face peered round the corner.
"Miss Durand, which side do I come on from? Hubert's nearly off."
"The left." Alwynne hurried to the rescue, dragging Louise after her. She hustled the anxious courier to his entrance, twitched his mantle into position, and saw him safely on the stage. Then she turned to Louise.