y equal at acting, so it doesn't much matter who gets Bluebeard
or Fatima. There are eight characters, so get eight slips of paper,
Dora, and we'll write one on each."

"We must fold them exactly evenly," said Dora, "so that they all feel
the same. What shall we shuffle them in? Can you make a place on your
lap? Now, each girl must draw one in turn."

"Who's to begin?" said Aldred.

"The eldest. We always take it in order of birthdays. Nobody must unfold
her slip until everyone else has drawn. Agnes, it's your turn first."

Aldred opened her paper with much anxiety, and read its contents with a
frown. "An Attendant"--that was all! She was very disgusted to be
obliged to take such a humble part, having hoped to get either Bluebeard
or Fatima, or, at least, Sister Anne. She knew she could act well, and
thought she certainly ought to be one of the more important characters
in the play. It was particularly aggravating, because Fatima had been
drawn by Lorna Hallam, the girl with the worst memory and the least
dramatic talent in the class; and Bluebeard had fallen to the lot of
little Dora Maxwell, whose chirpy voice would not be nearly so
appropriate to the occasion as the deeper tones of Ursula Bramley. If
anybody except Mabel had suggested the plan of deciding the caste
by lot, Aldred would have disputed the matter hotly; but she did not
like to argue with her chum, so she was obliged to suppress her feelings
and agree with the best grace she could. Mabel herself was to be Sister
Anne, Phoebe Stanhope and Myfanwy James were the two brothers, Ursula
Bramley was the Beneficent Fairy, and Agnes Maxwell another attendant.

"We ought to alter some of the parts," Aldred could not help suggesting.
"It's ridiculous for Ursula to be a fairy! She's too tall, and her hair
is brown. Why can't she change with Dora?"

"No, thank you!" protested Dora. "I'm sick of being a fairy; because
I'm small, and my hair is light, I'm always given a gauze dress and a
wand. I'm tired of coming in disguised as a beggar woman, and then
flinging off my cloak--it always catches on my wreath and pulls it
crooked; and I've said I don't know how many ending-up speeches. I've
drawn Bluebeard this time, and I mean to stick to him, whatever sort of
a fairy Ursula makes."

"I shan't be such a bad one, I'm sure!" declared Ursula, rather
offended. "You wouldn't make a better, Aldred; your hair's darker than
mine."

"Well, I don't know how Lorna is going