“I’ve seen every good thing in New York ever since I could talk,” Madeline announced calmly. “Besides, I am going down to New York later to look up the stage business. But first I’m going to get the play all written. I’m afraid the original touch would tumble out if I carried it to New York in my head. And then,” she added mysteriously, “I couldn’t use my secret method about dialogue so well in New York.”
“Madeline Ayres,” Mary told her solemnly, “you are the most provoking person I know. You have mooned around here all the fall, doing footless little stunts for anybody that asked you. Now, when Betty and the Tally-ho need you, you are under the spell of the most untimely inspiration that I’ve ever heard of your having.”
“I guess the Vagabonds would like to hear you call the Pageant I wrote for them footless,” declared Madeline in injured tones, “and if any college play ever took better than the Purple Indians——”
“Of course your stunts are all perfectly lovely,” Mary hastened to assure her. “You’re the most provoking but also pretty nearly the most interesting of all the B. C. A.’s. Isn’t she, Betty? I’ll cross my thumbs for your play instead of against it, Madeline.”
“Thanks,” said Madeline briefly. “I’m writing it for Agatha Dwight.”
Betty and Mary exchanged glances of utter amazement. Agatha Dwight was the idol of Harding and of two continents besides. The leading playwrights of England and America wrote for her, and the greatest of them felt highly honored when her capricious taste singled out a piece of his for production.
“And the moral of that is,” said Mary at last, “aim at a star, because it’s no disgrace if you miss her. Pun not noticed until it was too late to withdraw the epigram. Come on, Betty, and fix up the workroom. It’s lucky that George Garrison Hinsdale is writing another of his horribly learned papers this month, so I can be down here as much as I like. This one is on the aberrations of Genius. I shall suggest untimely inspirations as an important subhead, and invite Madeline up to discuss it with him. Meanwhile our only hope is that she’ll get sick of her play and come to our rescue, and do you know, Betty Wales, I shall be most desperately disappointed if she does.”
Betty laughed. “I suppose she oughtn’t to waste her time on fussy little things like gift-shop specialties if she can really do big things like plays for Agatha Dwight. But she is so splendid at everything.”
“And the moral of that is,” said Mary, “be splendid at everything and you’ll be wanted, no matter how provoking you are at times. I should like to have been a genius myself, only George Garrison Hinsdale says he prefers near-geniuses as wives. Now, Betty Wales, what do you say to a ploshkin candle-shade for this year’s extra-special feature?”