she was to play. She opened
her lips and began with a vivacity and dash that made the professionals
smile and applaud when she was through.

"Wait!" commanded the professor, immediately. "If you can do that as
well in the play----"

"Oh! but, sir," said Agnes, suddenly coming to herself, and feeling her
heart and courage sink. "I can't act in the play--not really."

"Why not?" he snapped.

"I am forbidden."

"By whom, I'd like to know?"

"Mr. Marks. We girls of the basket ball team cannot act. It is a
punishment."

"Indeed?" said the director, grimly. "And are all the girls Mr. Marks
sees fit to punish at this special time, as able as you are to take
part?"

"Ye-yes, sir," quavered Agnes.

"Well!" It was a most expressive observation. But the director said
nothing further about Mr. Marks and his discipline. He merely turned and
cried:

"Ready for the first act! Clear the stage."

To Madam Shaw he whispered: "Of course, one swallow doesn't make a
summer."

"But one good, smart girl like this one may come near to saving the day
for you, Professor."

CHAPTER XXIII

SWIFTWING, THE HUMMINGBIRD

The orchestra burst into a low hum of sweet sounds. Agnes had heard them
tuning up under the stage for some time; but back in the little hall
where the amateur performers were gathered in readiness for their cues,
she had not realized that the orchestra members had taken their places.

Having watched the rehearsals so closely since they began, she could now
imagine the tall director with his baton, beating time for the opening
bars.

The overture swelled into the grand march, and then went on, giving a
taste of the marches, dances, and singing numbers, finally with a crash
of sound, announcing the moment when the curtain, at the real
performance, would go up.

"Now!" hissed the stage manager, beckoning on the first chorus.

Innocent Delight was in it. Innocent Delight went up the steps and into
the wings with the others, as in a dream. As she had not rehearsed with
the chorus before, she made a little mistake in her position in the
line; and she failed to keep quite good time in the dancing step.

"Oh, dear me!" gasped Carrie Poole. "Now you're going to spoil it all,
Aggie Kenway! You'll be worse than Trix, I suppose!"

Agnes merely smiled at her. Nothing could disturb her poise just then.
_She was going to act!_

They saw the boys across the stage, ready, too, to enter--some of them
grinning an