re safely out of earshot
of the study door. "I never dreamt of such an awful thing as Miss
Walters offering to turn up! Why, we couldn't have had any fun at all!"

"We'd have had to act Shakespeare, or something stilted out of a book!"
shuddered Edith.

"I should simply shut up if any of the mistresses were looking on,"
protested Dulcie.

"And I should shut down, and crawl under a bed, I think," laughed
Noreen. "I say, I hope Miss Walters wasn't offended. We certainly looked
very blank when she began asking us the price of 'stalls.' I suppose it
wasn't exactly what you'd call polite!"

"Perhaps it wasn't, but it can't be helped," groaned Gowan. "It would
wreck everything to have an audience of mistresses. I feel we've escaped
a great danger. We must warn the others not to be too encouraging, or
give the mistresses any loophole of an excuse to butt in. This
particular show is to be private and confidential."

It was decided to hold each performance on a separate day, during the
evening recreation time.

"_Matinees_ are no good!" decreed Prissie. "Everybody feels perfectly
cold in the afternoon. It's impossible to get up any proper enthusiasm
until the lamps are lighted."

"I feel a perfect stick at 4 P. M.," admitted Carmel.

"What will you feel later on?"

"A sort of combination of Mary Pickford and Charlie Chaplin thrown
together, I hope!" twinkled Carmel. "It depends whether you put me on a
comic turn or a romantic scene."

"I vote we have a little bit of both," said Gowan. "We'll harrow their
feelings first, and end in comedy."

The five bedrooms drew lots for the order of their performances, and the
honor of "first night" fell to the Blue Grotto. Its occupants (including
Carmel, whose dressing-room was considered an annex) held a rejoicing
committee to plan out their play. Squatting on Gowan's bed, they each
contributed portions of the plot.

"Shall we write it out and learn our parts?" asked Lilias.

"Certainly not. It would quite spoil it if you were just reeling off
speeches by heart, with one ear open to the prompter. I know you! I
shall never forget Lilias when we did 'The Vanity Bag.' She said her
bits as if she were repeating a lesson, and Bertha----"

"Are we to say anything we like, then?" interrupted Carmel, for Gowan's
reminiscences were becoming rather too personal for purposes of harmony.

"We'll map the whole thing out beforehand, of course, but you must just
say what comes into your