"The oldest," said Agnes. "She is in the play. But she hasn't a very important part. I think she might have been given a better one!"
"But you? Who is punishing you? Your teacher?"
"Mr. Marks."
"No? Not really?"
"Yes. The basket ball team and some other girls can only look on—we can't act. He said so. And—and we deserve it," stammered Agnes.
"Oh, indeed! But does the poor Carnation Countess deserve it?" demanded Madam Shaw, with asperity. "I wonder what Mr. Marks can be thinking of?"
However, everybody seemed to feel happier and less discouraged about the play when this rehearsal was over; and Agnes went home in a seventh heaven of delight.
"I don't care so much now if I never have a chance again," she said, over and over again. "I've shown them that I can act."
But Ruth began to be anxious. She said to Mrs. MacCall that evening: "Suppose, when Agnes gets older, she should determine to be a player? Wouldn't it be awful?"
The old Scotch woman bit off her thread reflectively. "Tut, tut!" she said, at last. "That's borrowing trouble, my dear. And you're a bit old-fashioned, Ruthie Kenway. Perhaps being an actress isn't so awful a thing as we used to think. 'Tis at least a way of earning one's living; and it seems now that all girls must work."