A gallant curtle axe upon my thigh,
A boar-spear in my hand and—in my heart
Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will—
We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside.”
And truly if Gerry did feel any womanish fear during her recitation she did not in any way betray it, for at once the gayety of Rosalind, her wit and gallant courage, seemed to have fallen like a mantle upon Gerry. Twice her audience laughed aloud in the course of her recitation and once two of the judges nodded at each other, which had not happened during Winifred’s speech. Nevertheless, though Gerry came twice on to the stage again to receive her flowers and applause, she was certain that unless Olive made a much better showing than she had, Winifred would be the winner of their contest.
For some unexplainable reason there was a slight wait before the third girl, who was to close the competition, made her appearance. And this was unfortunate for Olive. In the first place, the large audience was growing a little bit tired and hungry, and in the second place, it gave them the opportunity to begin talking of Olive’s curious history, retailing to one another as much or as little as each one of them knew.
Olive’s costume was a gift from Ruth and Jack, sent from New York and shown to no one before the entertainment save Jessica Hunt and Miss Winthrop. No one will ever know how much pleasure the planning of it had given to Jack Ralston in the tiresome days at the hospital. Not that she and Ruth were Shakespeare scholars, only it had happened that years before Ruth had seen a famous actress, who soon afterwards retired from the stage, in this very character of Perdita in “The Winter’s Tale” and had never forgotten the details of her dress.
Quietly, when but few persons were looking, Olive at last skipped on to the stage. She was wearing a pale pink crepe dress that came down to her ankles, covered with an overdress of flowered tulle. Her long and curiously black hair was braided in the two familiar loose braids with a single pink flower at one side, and on her arm she carried a basket of spring flowers.
Had all her friends and acquaintances not been convinced from the first that Olive would be frightened to death before so many people? It was odd, therefore, that as she first came down toward the edge of the platform she smiled assurance at Miss Winthrop, who was trying her best not to appear too anxious or too interested in her favorite pupil.
Then, Olive, before beginning Perdita’s speech, started slowly to dance an old English folk dance such as the country people must have danced in rustic England long before even Shakespeare’s time. Dancing was an art with Olive, so that before she commenced her speech her audience was won.