“Don’t let it worry you.” A quick flush rose to the stout girl’s plump cheeks. “Watch your own step. I mean that in good part, Steve.”
“Thank you,” came the disdainful retort. “I hope I am capable of managing my own affairs.”
“I hope so, too,” Laura returned with a gravity of tone that made Stephanie feel vaguely uncomfortable.
Three days later she wrote Leila a formal note containing her acceptance of the Shakespearean part. Rather to her disappointment, Leila promptly responded with an equally formal note of thanks, and a brief request that she report at the theatre at one o’clock the following Saturday afternoon for a reading of the drama to be later enacted. Stephanie had hoped that Leila would again come to her room, having decided upon a certain lofty pose which she intended to assume during the call. She was also desirous of learning whether Miss Ogden had been included in the cast, an inclusion against which she had determined politely to protest. She had resolved to make life miserable for the offending freshman to the point of driving her from Hamilton College, provided she could accomplish such a revenge. If she could not, it would not be from lack of trying. A pampered only child, Stephanie had grown to young womanhood with a fixed idea of her own importance. Nor was anyone permitted long to stand in her way, whom she could succeed in ousting from it.
Her attendance of the reading of the play at the Playhouse on the following Saturday afternoon revealed to her the not unwelcome fact that Miss Ogden was missing from the cast. It would save her the necessity of a protest, which, she had sulkily reflected, might have reacted to her disadvantage. She was full of secret satisfaction over the good fortune that had visited her, vanity prompting her to repudiate Laura’s blunt surmise of how it had come about.
The swift passing of the autumn days found her strictly upon her most gracious behavior toward Leila, Vera and the other members of the cast. Leslie she could not endure. Fortunately for her she seldom came into contact with the busy, reserved manager. Leslie had become everything to the charming little theatre from manager to property man. While Leila directed and rehearsed the actors with unfailing patience and good nature, Leslie was frequently a silent observer at rehearsals. Seated far back in the auditorium little that went on on the stage escaped her critical eyes.
There had been no need for Stephanie to be dissatisfied with her several costumes. In presenting the theatre to the campus Peter Cairns had shown lavish generosity in the matter of wardrobe. He had also placed a costume fund at Leila’s disposal to be used at her discretion. The love of acting being a part of Stephanie’s vain make-up, she did well in the stellar role of king. She had every reason to be happy, in the new pleasant environment which the rehearsals furnished, but was not. She continued to nurse her grudge against Jewel Ogden, never, for a moment relenting toward the despised freshman.
As a result of the quarrel at the frolic Jewel was still very sore at heart. She had girlishly admired Stephanie for her good looks and imperial manner, and had been cut to the quick by the latter’s harsh treatment of herself. She had mentally dwelt upon the disaster to Stephanie’s hopes, that she had grown pitifully sensitive. She kept it well hidden, however, under her usual brisk, out-spoken manner. Leslie alone understood that the little girl had not yet emerged from her valley of humiliation. Following her vehement grief on the night of the frolic she had afterward become mute on the subject of her wrongs, refusing to volunteer another word relative to them. Leslie, sympathetically silent, had asked no question.
Leila had already approached Jewel on the subject of her new play, “The Leprachaun,” to be enacted later in the college year. This with a view toward “making honors even” and as an indication to Miss Ogden of the impartiality of her policy, germane to matters theatrical. The freshman had accepted the stellar part in the new play which was still engaging Leila’s serious literary effort. The Irish girl had determined to make the fanciful drama the best she had yet written. She had carefully explained to Jewel how much the quaint Irish play meant to her, and Jewel had, for the time, emerged from under her secret cloud to brighten over the flattering prospect ahead of her. Later, she dropped again into her former half despondent mood, a change which Leslie quickly noted.
“Cheer up, Jewel, and come on over to Baretti’s to dinner. I feel like changing my eats tonight. You eata da spaghet?” She paused before Jewel in droll imitation of Signor Baretti, the friendly proprietor of the restaurant.