“Oh, yes, diamonds.”
“And a murder?”
“Well, a supposed murder. The audience thinks it is, but it isn’t really. And there’s a pretend fire too, just as there is in the real play.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m the villain,” said Betty. “I’m to have curling black mustaches and a fierce frown, and then you’d know without asking.”
“I should think they’d have wanted you for the heroine,” said Alice, who admired Betty immensely.
“Oh, no,” demurred the villain. “Eleanor is leading lady, of course. She has three different costumes, and she looks like a queen in every one of them. Katherine is going to be Sherlock Holmes, and Adelaide Rich is Dr. Watson and–oh, I mustn’t tell you any more, or Alice won’t enjoy it Saturday.”
“We had a little play here,” said Miss Madison, “but it was tame beside this. Where did you get all the men’s costumes?”
“Rented them, and the wigs and mustaches and pistols,” and Betty explained about the dancing-school money which the house had voted to Roberta’s project instead of to the spread.
“I wish I could act,” said Alice. “I should love to be a man. But my mother wouldn’t let me, so it’s just as well that I’m a perfect stick at it.”