SHOPPING FOR SHAKESPEARE
It was Saturday morning. She had been elected a member of the Portia Club,
and even now rehearsals were under way for the first performance the
second week in December. There was to be one that morning at Amy's study,
the scene between Rosalind, Orlando, and Celia. Kit was Orlando on account
of her height and carriage. As Amy said:
"You've got the air, Kit, that goes with doublet and hose and Lincoln
green."
"Lincoln green was in Robin Hood's time," retorted Kit.
"Yes, but it's all that foresty stuff, don't you know. You can play
Mercutio next month in the 'Merchant of Venice.'"
"No, I want to be Shylock. I love character parts. I don't see why you
have to pick out these little tame scenes when we could have Lear and
Edgar and the Fool on the heath, or Dick the Third or Macbeth. I'd play
any of those for you. We used to have plays back home just amongst us
girls, and I was always the leading heavy. We even tried putting on
'Faust' in the barn when the hay-lofts were empty, but that does need
atmosphere."
"Dear wayward, fearless sister," answered Amy, kindly, "what you haven't
found out here is this. Thus far we can go and no farther. The faculty
would expire seeing you as King Lear. Discreetly may ye pose as Orlando,
or any other gentle lad, with a sweeping cloak about thee, but I doubt if
the Dean would even beam on Hamlet."
"I'm a splendid Hamlet," Kit said, thoughtfully. "I doubled in 'Hamlet'
and 'The Raven' in the same costume down home. Just the soliloquy, of
course, though we'd have tried the grave-diggers scene only we didn't have
any skulls."
But Amy had not thought favorably of deviating from the usual program.
Scenes from "As You Like It," as usual, was to be the first effort. Kit
glanced at the clock, and caught up her sweater and cap. It was quarter of
ten, and she was due at Amy's at ten. As she ran down-stairs, she
encountered the Dean, happily directing two expressmen carry a large box
back into the study.
"My dear, it has come," he told her. "I'm hoping they will both be here,
the Amenotaph urn and the statue of Annui. I do not wish to be disturbed
just now while I am unpacking them, as it takes a great deal of care and
delicacy and you will ask too many questions, Kit, but if you will come in
after lunch, I will explain the inscriptions to you."
"Oh, I'd love to, Uncle Cassius," Kit answered, eyeing the box hopefully.
"I'm going up to a rehearsal at the Hall."
The Dean smiled absently and nodded his head at her.
"Look up Annui while you are there, also Semele."
Lysander, the puppy, bounded to meet her as she hurried down the walk, and
at the sidewalk curb she found the Bellamy car waiting.
"Just in time," called Rex, cheerily. "Where are you bound for?"
Kit took the seat beside him gratefully. The wind from the lake blew
cuttingly, and there was a flurry of first snowflakes in the air wavering
about uncertainly like birds that had lost their way.
"Where's Anne?" she asked. "Isn't she going up to rehearsal?"
"Gone down to Brent's first. I'm going to stop and pick her up. She's been
building a costume all the morning."
The car swung around the corner of Maple Avenue and down the hill towards
the village, leaving Lysander sitting at the corner, wailing dolefully.
Brent's was the local emporium for everything needed, from the college
standpoint. Not only were its shelves filled with goods which varied from
library supplies to latest fiction, but there was an ice cream parlor
annex patronized almost entirely by students.
Anne was engrossed over a selection of patterns at the counter in the back
of the store. She was to play Celia, and Norma was Rosalind. Charity
always said that Norma's profile and long corn-colored hair brought her
more undeserved honors than any qualities of excellence she possessed.
"I'm so glad you came along just now," sighed Anne. "Mother says I ought
to dress very simply, but a Duke's daughter would have even a stuff dress
cut in fashion, wouldn't she? Besides, I can show a lot of taste in my
cap. Norma's got a perfectly wonderful cloak made of a dark green felt
piano cover."
Kit helped her select a dull violet goods, with white underslip that
showed through the slashes in the sleeves. Anne had been hovering over an
old rose that absolutely killed any glint of color in her light brown
hair.
"Never, never," warned Kit, "let old rose come near you, if you've got
freckles or sandy hair. Don't you notice, Anne, how I cling to all the
soft pastel nondescript tones? That's because my eldest sister is an
artist, and we all have to live up to it more or less now. When Jean wants
a new dress she slips away and communes with nature, until she's hit the
right tone values. You should have seen her face one day when some one
asked Doris her favorite color, and she said, 'plaid.'"
"We're going to be late to rehearsal," Anne declared with a sigh, as they
rose to leave.
"We are late now," rejoined Kit, cheerfully. "They'll prize us all the
more if we keep ourselves kind of scarce. Rex told me to order walnut
sundae for him, and wait until he comes back."
Just at this moment Anne laid her finger on her lips and glanced
impressively at a table on the other side of the room. There sat Amy with
Peggy Porter and Norma, all of them dreamily imbibing ice cream sodas,
just as though Shakespearian rehearsals were occasions unknown in their
engagement calendars.
Kit rose and crossed the room with caution until she stood behind Amy and
intoned sepulchrally from Macbeth:
"What ho! Ye secret, black and midnight hags, what is't ye do?"