“You’re about Sarah’s size,” she mused, “and you’re blonde and you have blue eyes. You’ll do, Helen.”
“Do for what?” asked the astounded Helen.
“Why, for Sarah’s part,” exclaimed Miss Weeks. “Come now, hurry up and get into Sarah’s costume,” and she pointed to a dainty colonial dress which the unfortunate Sarah was to have worn in the prologue.
“But I don’t know Sarah’s part well enough,” said Helen. “I’ve only read the play twice and then just for fun.”
“You’ll catch on,” said Miss Weeks, “if you’re half as smart as I think you are.”
“Go on, Helen,” urged the seniors. “Help us out. We’ve got to put the play across or we’ll never have enough money to pay Miss Weeks.”
“Now you know why I’m so anxious for you to take the part,” smiled the play instructor.
“I’ll do my best,” promised Helen, gathering the costume under her arm and hurrying toward the girls’ dressing room.
Ten minutes later she emerged as a dainty colonial dame. Miss Weeks stared hard at her and then smiled an eminently satisfactory smile.
“Now if she can only get the lines in two nights,” she whispered to herself.