“OH, I BEG YOUR PARDON”
“Oh, Mrs. Kent!” wailed Betty. “And she’s Ermengarde St. John in the house-play. What can we do?”
Mrs. Kent shook her head helplessly. “You’ll have to do without Janet,” she said. “That’s certain. She was on her way home to dinner when she slipped on a piece of ice near the campus-gate. She lay there several minutes before any one saw her, and then luckily Dr. Trench came along and drove her straight to the infirmary. She fainted while they were bandaging her ankle.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Betty, her vision of a possible hasty recovery dispelled by the last sentence. After a moment’s hesitation she decided not to go back to the Students’ Building to consult Nita. It would be better to bring some one over from the house to read the part for to-night. It was important, but luckily it wasn’t very long, and somebody would have to learn it in time for the play the next evening.
So she hurried up-stairs again and the first person she met was Roberta Lewis, marching down the corridor with a huge Greek dictionary under her arm.
“Put that book down, Roberta; and come over to the rehearsal,” commanded Betty. “Ermengarde St. John has sprained her ankle, and gone to the infirmary and everybody’s waiting.”
“You mean that you want me to go and get her?” asked Roberta doubtfully. “Because I think it would take two people to help her walk, if she’s very lame. She’s awfully fat, you know.”
“We want you to read Janet’s part,” explained Betty, “just for to-night, until the committee can find some one to take it.” And she gave a little more explicit account of the state of affairs at the rehearsal.