Chapter VII: A Friend in Need

There was such excitement in school that it overflowed its boundaries, and reached the quiet chamber of that little pupil who had left its walls forever, to be taught by the sterner teaching of pain and patience. There was to be a play during Thanksgiving week, and Inez was selected for the principal part. She and Nellie came home one afternoon with burning cheeks and dilated eyes, and ran to Marcy’s room, followed by Grace, and seriously annoying Lucy, who was sitting in her favorite position on the foot of Marcy’s bed, “’musing her” with one of her wonderful tales.

“Oh, what do you think?” burst out Inez when scarcely inside the door.

“O Marcy, really it’s the sweetest thing!” added Nellie.

“And I’m to be the princess. You ought to see how mad the Hales are, though they try to act as if they didn’t care,” said Inez.

“They’re court ladies on the bad side,” cried Nellie. “And I’m to be the queen’s counsellor, sort of a good fairy.”

“Yes, and Madeleine Greene is my first maid of honor, who helps it all out,” added Inez.

“What is it all?” cried Marcy. “The play?”

“Yes, it’s the nicest play; one of the nuns wrote it,” said Nellie.

“Just think that I’ve the principal part!” cried Inez. “It makes me so nervous, I’m just about sure I’ll spoil it, but I love to do it.”

“You won’t spoil it,” said Marcy; “you always do well. What is the play? I can’t understand.”

“It’s a princess,” began Inez. “Oh! you tell, Nellie; I’m too crazy to remember it.”

“It’s a princess who has been put out of her kingdom, and she has to try to get it back. It’s kind of an alle--alleglory. Isn’t that what you call the things that mean something deeper than the story?”

“Allegory,” corrected Marcy, thinking of the one Father Glenn had read her.

“Well, allegory then. The princess kind of stands for a soul, and the kingdom is the right, and all her enemies and misfortunes stand for temptations, and she has to win her kingdom back herself. And the counsellor and maid of honor--that’s I and Madeleine Greene--they stand for conscience, and the guardian angel, or something like that.”

“Yes, and in the end, Marcy--oh, it’s fine!” Inez burst out. “You see, the princess wins back her kingdom, and all her foes are conquered, and she’s been dressed as poorly as poor can be, but here all her old things fall off, and she steps out in the most beautiful clothes, and puts a crown on her head, and there’s a cross on the crown, and the nuns say they’re going to have it beautiful, and have the cross all rhine stones, and a little electric light behind it, right on my head. And there’s to be a chorus, and a nice song behind the scenes, and then all the characters rush on, and the good ones dance with joy around the princess, and the bad ones fall on their knees and crouch down, like this,” and Inez struck an attitude of terror, shading her eyes from an imaginary ray.

“Oh, dear, it will be lovely!” sighed Marcy, realizing that she should never again have part in such joys.

Inez saw the pain on the face growing so thin and pathetic in its patient sweetness, and tears of sympathy arose in her eyes. With a gentleness taught by new sisterly love and pity, she kissed Marcy, saying:

“I would never have dared be the princess, only I knew you would help me. Nellie and I are going to practise in this room, and you can tell us just how to act, because you can act so well, and it will be most as if you did it; won’t it, Marcy?”

Marcy kissed her back, and answered, “Yes,” quite cheerily.

“And I’m something too, Marcy,” Grace remarked meekly, taking advantage of a pause.

“Why, of course you are, Gracie,” cried Nellie. “Grace is one of the little girls chosen to be the good fairies who dance before the princess in the second act, and try to lead her in the right path to her kingdom.”

“But, Marcy, you never saw any one so provoked as the Hales are,” said Inez. “Why, they show they care like anything. Jennie Hale was just as mean to me as she could be after the nuns had said who were to have the parts, and Rose Hale said to May Vanderberg, as they passed me in the corridor, just when she knew I couldn’t help hearing: ‘I’m glad I haven’t got to do it, because I hate to put myself forward; but I’m sorry she’s got it, because she can’t act, and she’ll spoil the whole play.’ And May said: ‘It’ll be fun seeing the Wild West show trying to act like a court lady.’”

“Well, you won’t spoil it, and you can act,” said Marcy, her pale face flushing. “Who is the Wild West show--Nellie?”

Inez nodded.

“The impertinent, hateful girls,” cried Marcy, losing her temper.

“Don’t get mad, Marcy,” said Nellie coolly, though her cheeks were redder than usual. “I don’t mind very much now; I did at first, because I wasn’t used to things, and they scared me, but now I see they’re not really worth minding. They put me in mind of the Indian ma used to tell us about that came to her house selling things when she first went to Kansas. She had a bottle of cologne one day when he came that she was using for headache, and the next time he came she said he was full of all kinds of strong things--musk, and mint, and grease, and everything--and he said, ‘H’m, Indian just as good as white woman, heap better than white woman! She got one little weak smell-bottle, Indian got quarts big, strong, many smell-bottles.’ And some way when I see the Hales trying to be fine ladies, and doing such disagreeable things, I always think of ma’s Indian.”

“Well, if that isn’t just it,” cried Inez.

From that day till the great event Marcy’s room was turned into a green-room and a stage. Grace did her dance for her, and tried heroically to give in her one small person the effect of twelve little girls dressed in different colors, dancing the most complicated, mazy figures, and if she did not succeed it was not for lack of trying. Inez and Nellie rehearsed their parts before Marcy, until she was quite able to prompt them without a book, and proved so ambitious for their success, that when she said she was satisfied with their performance they felt quite sure of pleasing their audience.

Their costumes were really beautiful, for Mrs. Merrick had done her utmost to have them so. Nellie’s was a silvery, grayish blue, with pearl trimming, a court train, and silver satin petticoat, laced with silver, and Inez’s was ivory white, with gold trimming, and such a profusion of stage gems on the rose-colored bodice as to make one blink at their splendor.

The rehearsals at school went on perfectly, and there seemed no doubt that the affair was an assured success, but for the ill-concealed malice of Jennie and Rose Hale. Either the nuns were blind to this, or thought it best to appear so, for they seemed quite unconscious of the spirit of opposition in the air; but Nellie and Madeleine Greene were aware of it, and worried over it in secret, for they both felt these girls were capable of making Inez taste their spite.

The dress rehearsal on the last day went off without a hitch, and the final scene in which right triumphed, and Inez, throwing off her ragged garments, shone forth resplendent in her glittering gown, and placed the blazing crown on her head, was so dramatic and effective, and so well acted, that all the community and pupils gathered to see it burst into applause.

The black look of anger and jealousy that passed between the Hale sisters did not escape Nellie, and she went home with Inez full of anxiety, yet not liking to disturb her by uttering her fears. Inez herself walked on air, and no happier little girl than she laid her head on her pillow the night before the play.

The hall was crowded when the curtain rose to the chorus of girls’ voices singing in the wings. Nellie quite astonished her friends by her performance; the Hales were clever as the leaders of the enemies of the princess, while Inez was so excited that her acting amazed her mother and father and Bob, all of whom were present at Marcy’s especial request. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, but Nellie and Madeleine kept a sharp look-out, feeling that the day would not be safe till the curtain should have fallen for the last time.

The crown was in the dressing-room, and it was the duty of one of the smaller girls to fetch it in the beginning of the third act, and stand with it in the wings, until the moment when the stage should be darkened, when she was to carry it on the stage and lay it on a table, the reason for all this being that the crown was so brilliant that if it were on the stage before it was to be used it would be seen, and the dramatic effect spoiled. The moment was almost come, and Nellie was standing in the wings, watching the play, when some one touched her elbow. She turned, and saw the frightened face of the little girl who was to bring the crown.

“It’s gone,” whispered the child. “I can’t find the crown.”

Nellie gathered up her train and ran for dear life. There was not a moment to be lost. If the crown were not ready when needed, all the effect of the scene would be ruined, and Inez would surely be so shocked that she would break down, and her moment of triumph be turned into defeat.

“Those Hales!” gasped Nellie. “Have you seen them?”

“Yes, they came out of the dressing-room as I went in,” said the little girl wonderingly. “Did they take the crown?”

“Which way did they go, Lillie?”

“Into the hall,” said the child, and Nellie turned and ran swiftly down the corridor.

A pink and a green dress whisked across the end, and Nellie felt sure she had the right clew.

“Where are you going?” said Jennie Hale as she passed her.

Nellie never paused to answer.

“Stop!” said Rose Hale, putting out her hand.

Nellie pushed it down, saying breathlessly, “You’ll be sorry if you try to stop me,” and ran on.

Opening the door of the closet where the girls’ wraps were hung, with little Lillie’s help she threw them all on the floor, and, as she expected, the crown rolled out among them.

The Hales saw her snatch it and start back; they put themselves in her path.

“Here goes,” thought Nellie, who had played football with her brothers. Running with all her might, she put her head down just as she reached her foes, swung one of the sisters round by the force of the concussion, and before they could rally sufficiently to seize her, was beyond the reach of their hands, and flying for her life down the long hall.

“The Western savage!” exclaimed Jennie Hale, white with anger and shame as she realized they were found out and disgraced before the school.

Nellie made her best speed to get to the stage before it should be too late, and Lillie was left far behind. She got to the wings in time to see the darkened stage light up again, and Inez turn to take the crown, which was not there. Inez grew white. There was no time for Nellie to hesitate. She went swiftly on the stage, and knelt, saying, “Here, most gracious lady,” which was all she could think of at the moment, and more than she had breath for. Inez stared, but fortunately was not thrown off her balance. She took the crown, Nellie retired, and the play went on to the end amid great applause.

It had been an exciting ten minutes, and had taken no small amount of courage and presence of mind in the heroine of them, but she had saved the day, and only a few in the audience were the wiser.

“Now, what do you suppose possessed the Prairie Chicken to do that?” whispered Bob, but his mother, who had seen Inez’s face and the absence of the crown, and had trembled lest her girl was going to fail, after all, shook her head, and felt grateful for an evident rescue.

Inez sat on the edge of the bed that night thoughtfully unbuttoning her shoes. She had asked Nellie to let her share her room, for she wanted to discuss the events of the evening, and felt besides that she could not sufficiently show her affection for her once despised cousin, who had saved her from a mortification that it seemed to her only death could wipe out.

“I think I’m getting a little sense,” she remarked, with one shoe dangling in her left hand, while her right one absently smoothed the wrinkles out of the heel of her stocking.

“Isn’t that nice?” said Nellie sleepily from the pillow, where she had preceded Inez.

“You see,” explained Inez, “I’m beginning to find out what Marcy always knew about being a real lady. It’s not because these girls were mean to me to-night, but I see it’s all part of their being humbugs and pretending. Madeleine Greene and you and Marcy, though you’re so different, are all ladies, because you’re honest and polite, and never squirm around to try to seem what you are not. I’m through with imitation ladies forever.”

“Much obliged for my part of the compliment,” laughed Nellie, giving her pillow a few pokes and pulls. “_Squirm_ around is good, Inez, but I’m glad if you’ve had enough of imitation people, because they’re not much good. I suppose the Hales can’t help being plated ware, poor things. Still they needn’t have taken the crown,” added candid Nellie, who found it hard to forgive such a contemptible trick.