am to be Priscilla."

"A boy! Do you think I would be dressed like a boy?" cried Nora in
dudgeon. And Daisy thought _she_ would not, if the question were asked
her; and had nothing more to answer.

So the practising went on, with good success on the whole. The little
company met every other day; and dresses were making, and postures were
studied, and costumes were considered and re-considered. Portia and
Bassanio got to be perfect. So did Alfred in the neat-herd's
cottage--very nearly. Nora, however she grumbled, blew her cakes
energetically; Preston and Eloise made a capital old man and woman, she
with a mutch cap and he with a bundle of sticks on his head; while
Alexander Fish with his long hair and rather handsome face sat very well
at the table hearing his rebuke for letting the cakes burn. Alexander
was to have a six-foot bow in hand, which he and Hamilton were getting
ready: and meanwhile practised with an umbrella. But the tableau was
very good. Most of the others went very well. Still Daisy was greatly
tried by John Alden's behaviour, and continued to look so severe in the
picture as to draw out shouts of approving laughter from the company,
who did not know that Alexander Fish was to be thanked for it. And Nora
was difficult to train in Queen Esther. She wore obstinately a look of
displeased concern for herself, and no concern at all for her fainting
mistress. Which on the whole rather impaired the unity of the action,
and the harmony of the general effect.

"How is your task proceeding?" Mrs. Randolph asked one evening when Mrs.
Sandford was staying to tea.

"Excellently well. We shall make a good thing, I confidently expect."

"Hamilton is a good actor," said Preston.

"And Master Gary also," said Mrs. Sandford. "Your old French wife is
perfect, Preston."

"Much obliged, ma'am."

"Not to me. My dressing has nothing to do with that. But Preston, what
shall we do with Frederica's handkerchief? She can _not_ hold
it--right."

"Like a queen--" said Preston. "I do not know--unless we could scare her
out of her propriety. A good fright would do it, I think. But then the
expression would not suit. How is the Game, Mrs. Sandford?"

"Perfect! admirable! You and Hamilton do it excellently--and Daisy is a
veritable angel."

"How does _she_ like it all?" Mrs. Randolph inquired.

"Aunt Felicia, she is as much engaged as anybody."

"And plays as well," added Mrs. Sandford.

"She has found out to-day, aunt