What sort of a day would Saturday be? This was the most important consideration to which the seniors wakened that morning. Everything was ready for the presentation of the play outdoors, and the girls had gone to sleep on Friday night saying over their lines. There had been a thunderstorm on Friday afternoon, but it had cleared for the evening, and the stars came out. The evening paper had promised a good day, but as Isabel said, you never can tell. The last practice had not gone off very well. That was on Friday morning, in costume. But girls forgot their speeches, girls who had never done that before, several came on at the wrong moment, forgetting their cues, and Patty was nearly distracted.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Norris, remember that Miss Perin was not here to help you manage behind the scenes. Nobody will go on at the wrong time tonight.” Lilian was trying to comfort her teacher as they happened to meet on the way to the scene of action.
“Oh, thank you, Lilian. I am not worried now. We have everything fixed better now, all the stage property at hand and some one in charge. Miss Perin will attend to sending the folks on, if they forget, and I have the text, as prompter.”
“Behind the scenes,” in the lovely spot chosen, consisted of a thick clump of evergreens behind which a green curtain had been stretched to screen the players. Through arching branches was the stage entrance. The background was the woods behind Greycliff Hall and its adjacent buildings. An even stretch of ground on the level of Greycliff Hall made a woodland spot easy of access, yet with the wildest of surroundings. Part of the elevation, finally resulting in what was called “high hill,” ascended gradually from level ground, and there it was that the girls brought cushions and newspapers and sat, on the slope, to view the play. There were a few chairs for the faculty, ladies, alumnae and guests. The orchestra sat at one side of the “stage,” not to obstruct the view of the players, and were next to the evergreens before mentioned. Aunt Hilary had arrived and occupied a place of honor next to Miss Randolph. Girls in costume were coming up the path from Greycliff Hall, the orchestra were tuning instruments, and the whole place was taking on a festival appearance. Prettiest of all were the fairies, and most ridiculous were the costumes of those taking the parts of Bottom and the rest of the Pyramus and Thisbe players.
“I’ll not forget, Mrs. Norris,” declared Cathalina, “but I shall draw a long breath when my part is over. However, I have had lots of fun this week. I hate to think that all this is so nearly over.”
“‘Lots’?”
“A great deal,” corrected Cathalina. “But sometimes I rather like our more blunt way of speaking.”
“If my girls will remember their parts tonight and not rant, I shall be happy.”
But often the simple acting of amateurs is more attractive than that of any but the best professionals. The cast of Greycliff’s Midsummer Night’s Dream could have no fault to find with the appreciation of their audience. That delightful atmosphere established itself which means players who are enjoying their work and an audience entirely held and entertained. Long would they remember the pretty scene.
“How did you like it, Aunt Hilary?” asked an excited Hilary, as she took her aunt’s arm and led her back to the Hall. The rest of the suite-mates followed, all interested in the one relative which their company boasted.