he curtain," Miss Crosby called, as she came down from
the stage, where she had been putting the last finishing touches to the
Venetian street. "Are you ready?"

Polly and Angela and Helen jumped up.

"Don't forget your cue, Betty," Angela warned, "and don't you dare make
me laugh."

Miss Crosby gave the signal for the lights to be turned off and a low
murmur of anticipation ran through the Assembly Hall as the curtain
rose.

Betty's clever interpretation of Shylock won the applause for the first
act.

"Jemima! I'm glad that's over," she said as the curtain rang down. "The
grease paint is all running down my cheeks. It's awfully hot up there."

They heard the audience still applauding.

"Go take a curtain call, Betty," Miss Crosby called. "All of you, hurry
up! Lois, are you and Angela ready for the next act?"

It is hard to say who held the stage during the casket scene. Angela was
sweet as Nerissa, and Polly made such a charming lover that she was
especially applauded. Lois delighted every one as Portia, but, of
course, her real triumph came in the next act.

It is one of the hardest things in the world to recite lines with which
your audience is familiar and put sufficient new meaning in them to hold
their attention. It is so easy to fall into a sing-song chant,
particularly with a long speech. But Lois did it. She gave each word its
proper stress and the soft mellow quality of her voice gained her extra
praise.

It was a tired, but happily contented cast that took the encore after
the final curtain, and the audience were enthusiastic in their applause.

"And now, for the dance," Polly exclaimed, as they hurried back to the
dressing room to change their costumes. "I wish we could go as we are--"

"Why, Polly, you shock me," Betty laughed. "I can't imagine eating
sherbet with this beard."

"They are pushing back the chairs; hear them?" Lois said. "Do hurry,
Poll."

They finished dressing, and joined their party waiting for them in one
corner of the room. Jim Thorp and Bob were extravagant in their
congratulations.

"I expect that Lo will be starring in less than a year. How many people
have called you a born actress, little sister?" he asked.

"Oh, at least a million!" Lois replied; for she was not to be teased.

"How do you like being a man, Polly?" Jim inquired. "You were so dashing
and debonair, that I bet every fellow in the room felt big and clumsy in
comparison."

"That pretty girl who pl