f delight she had felt when on the opening night of term she had
first seen Catherine, but now to the charm and witchery of first
impressions of beauty was added the knowledge of Catherine's sweetness
and gentleness. Nancy might be a witty Maria, and Josephine a rollicking
Sir Toby; Judith had eyes and ears for Viola only, and as the play
progressed she envied passionately the Duke who seemed criminally stupid
in his misunderstanding of Viola's love. The surprise of the play was
Genevieve Singleton's Malvolio. Even Judith was moved out of her trance
of adoration to laughter and admiration.

"That was real acting," said Sally May with the air of a theatre habitue
as Malvolio pranced off the stage in the immortal scene of the yellow
stockings and cross-garters.

After the last bravos had died away and the actors had bowed their
thanks before the footlights, both audience and players were refreshed
with lemonade and cakes, and Judith transferred her envy to the
fortunate ones who stood talking over the evening's triumph with
Catherine and Genevieve and the rest of the cast. She envied Genevieve
who had had such a success, and she wished, but did not dare, to join
the group. "Perhaps," thought silly Judith, "if I run upstairs now and
get her room ready for her, Catherine may kiss me good-night." Judith
was on the verge of what is technically known as a "crush."

Meanwhile preparations went forward in earnest for the "Christmas
Carol," and "All costumes must be finished for Monday. Full rehearsal at
eight o'clock in the Big Hall." So ran the Order-in-Council.

"I'm certainly glad Tiny Tim's costume is done," thought Judith as she
ran downstairs for the rehearsal; "four more days till the literature
exam. I'm going to work like everything."

"Come on, Judy," Sally May hailed her as she found her place behind the
curtain where she was to help shift scenery; "you're late, but who ever
heard of a rehearsal starting on time?"

"Seems to be some sort of a row on," said Judith as a distinct groan
reached their ears. "What's up?" she asked as they joined the group on
the stage.

"Marjorie Jones has measles," answered Eleanor, their stage manager:
"come here, all of you, and think _hard_. Who can take Scrooge at such
short notice? Is there any new girl with a good memory? It's the longest
part by far."

Various names were proposed and rejected for one reason or another, and
then Eleanor's eye fell on Judith, who saw her cons