head at the moment. It will be ever so much
fresher and funnier. All you've got to do is to get into the right
spirit and play up!"

"All serene! As long as no mistresses are sitting looking on, I don't
mind."

The Blue Grotto, being the first on the list of performances, was
determined to do the thing in style. Bertha and Carmel between them
evolved a poster. It was painted in sepia on the back of one of Dulcie's
school drawings, sacrificed for the purpose. It represented the profile
of a rather pert looking young person with a tip-tilted nose and an eye
several sizes larger than was consistent with the usual anatomy of the
human countenance. Lower down, in somewhat shaky lettering, was set
forth the following announcement:

[Illustration:

Come to the blue Grotto!

GRAND DRAMA

"THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE"

.FEATURING.

THE SISTERS INGLETON..........The Cheverley Favourites

SIGNORINA CARMEL LESLIE....The famous Sicilian Comedienne

MISS GOWAN BARBOUR..............The Daisy of Chilcombe

MISS BERTHA CHESTERS...................(Our Bert)

Have half an hour of Fun and Pathos
It will do you good to laugh and cry

SILVER COLLECTION]

This they placed temporarily in the passage, but when the girls had
giggled over it sufficiently they removed it, for fear its attractions
might tempt some of the mistresses into asking permission to attend, a
fatality which must at all costs be avoided.

The performers spent a hectic day making arrangements. The time allowed
in their dormitory was necessarily limited, so preparations were a
scramble. The four beds were moved and placed as seats, and one corner
of the room was reserved as the stage. Carmel's dressing-room made an
excellent "green room," and gave the Blue Grotto a substantial
theatrical lift over other dormitories.

Ten minutes before the hour, five distracted actresses were struggling
to complete their impromptu toilets.

"I'm so rocky, I know I shan't be able to say anything at all!"
fluttered Dulcie.

"Nonsense! Pull yourself together, child!" urged Gowan. "Get some
stiffening into you, can't you?"

"I'm going to have umpteen dozen fits!"

"You've got to reckon with me if you spoil the play, so there! Don't be
a silly cockchafer!"

"Are we downhearted?" twittered Bertha.

"No!" answered a stalwart chorus of three, hauling up Dulcie, who was
sitting on a chair shivering in the agonies of an acute attack of stage
fright.

By this time the audie