“She’s a picture as a fairy too,” said Frances; “though I think the minuet will be the most picturesque bit of the play. Florry is a lovely fairy god-mother, isn’t she? I do think she’s clever enough to act at the Lyceum!”
“The play’s the thing, undoubtedly, as Mr. Hamlet of Denmark remarked. Just wait till you see our Travesty, though. I flatter myself we’ll make Woodendites sit up. Max and I have worked out a splendid blood-curdling duel, with that drop-lunge Mr. Carlyon taught us for a finish. You didn’t see it at rehearsal yesterday?”
“No, I was called away; but I’m sure it will be capital. Max is funny, as Laertes. And Frank Temple is a fine King. How lucky it is he had that lovely dress of red velvet and ermine!”
“It is a real stage-dress. Frank had an uncle who went on the stage and became a famous actor. The regal robes belonged to him.”
“Fancy! That is interesting. I wonder what he would say if he knew they were going to be worn in the Hamlet Travesty.”
“He’d think it jolly cheek.”
“We never could have done the Travesty without Mr. Carlyon. Of course, it was his plan that we should act it; so I suppose that’s why he has been so much interested in it. And Miss Carlyon has stage-managed Florry’s play for us: she said it was her duty as president of the Altruists.—There’s Betty Turner, Austin. Make haste, and we’ll catch her up.”
The active pair soon caught up Betty, who was exceedingly plump, and was never seen in a hurry. She looked at her friends in mild amazement as they pelted down the hill and pulled up one on each side of her.
“How you two do excite yourselves!” she observed languidly. “Francy’s cheeks are as red as beet-root, and Austin will have no breath left for his song.”
“We shouldn’t enjoy anything if we didn’t get enthusiastic!” laughed Frances. “And isn’t this the great occasion—the Altruists’ field-day?”