“I should think not, indeed!” cried Bell, energetically. “Here we have the wall decorations for the first scene, and all the costumes besides; and the trouble is, that three or four of them will have to be made to-morrow, after Laura comes with the trappings of war. I hope she will get here for dinner to-night; then we can decide on our finery, and have a rough rehearsal.”
“Well, girls!” shouted Jack, from the theatre, “come and have one consultation, and then we’ll let you off. Phil wants to change the location altogether.”
“Oh, nonsense!” cried Madge, as the three girls ran towards the scene of action. “It’s the only suitable place within a mile of the camp.”
“I think it will be simply perfect, when you have done a little more cutting,” said Bell. “Just see our advantages: First, we have that rising knoll opposite the stage, which is exactly the thing for audience seats; then we have a semicircular background of trees and a flat place for the stage, which is perfectly invaluable; last of all, just gaze upon that madroño-tree in the centre, and the oak on the left; why, they are worth a thousand dollars for scenery.”
“Especially in the first scene—ducal interior, or whatever it is,” said Phil, disconsolately.
“Jingo! that is a little embarrassing,” groaned Jack.
“Not at all,” said Polly, briskly. “There is plenty of room to set the interior in front of those trees. It can be all fixed beforehand, and just whisked away for good at the end of the first act.”
“That’s true,” said Geoff, thoughtfully. “But we can’t have any Adam’s cottage. We talked it over last night, and decided it ‘couldn’t be did.’”
“Did you indeed!” exclaimed Bell, sarcastically. “Then allow me to remark that you three boys represent a very obtuse triangle.”
“Thanks, most acid Rosalind!” murmured Geoff, meekly. “Could you deign, as spokesman of the very acute triangle, to suggest something?”