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19 At The Rehearsal

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19 at the rehearsal

after the dinner hour that day the third-formers brought up the subject of alicia’s trick again.

“you know, alicia—i don’t somehow feel as if i want it played on miss peters now,” said bill.

“nor do i,” said darrell.

“i don’t want it played at all,” said sally, stoutly.

“well, you’re the only one that doesn’t,” said alicia. “so keep quiet. what does everyone else say?”

“i don’t quite like to play it on miss peters now,” said belinda. “i feel like bill and darrell. you know—it seems a bit odd to give three cheers for somebody and then the very next day play a trick on them like that.”

“i shouldn’t mind,” said zerelda, who hadn’t liked being ticked off in class that morning by miss peters. “what’s in a trick, anyway? only a bit of fun. i guess it wouldn’t matter at all.”

“i agree with zerelda,” said gwen’s voice. “why shouldn’t we? don’t you agree, daphne?”

“i don’t know,” said daphne, who had been rather struck with miss peters’ dramatic ride through the night. “no—i think on the whole i’d rather play it on mam’zelle—or miss carton, perhaps.”

“well, i don’t much care who we play it on,” said alicia. “darrell and i will agree to what the majority say.”

“darrell and you!” exclaimed sally. “what’s darrell got to do with it? it’s your trick, not hers!”

“oh, we’ve just been planning it out together that’s all,” said alicia, coolly, pleased to see sally’s jealousy flare up in public. darrell went red. it was true she had enjoyed talking over the trick with alicia—but she knew quite well that alicia was only saying that to make sally cross. bother them both! why couldn’t they all be friends together? never mind—betty was coming back soon. then perhaps alicia would stop teasing sally and sally would stop being jealous and spiteful.

“well—let’s play the trick on mam’zelle then,” said irene. “mam’zelle’s lovely to play tricks on. we haven’t played one on her for terms and terms.”

“right. mam’zelle it shall be,” said alicia. “do you agree, darrell? we’ll talk about the best time and so on together when we’ve got a minute to ourselves. it’s time to get over to the art-room now.”

they all went off to the art-room, sally looking glum. alicia slipped her arm in darrell’s and bore her off as if she really was her best friend. darrell glanced back at sally and tried to take her arm away from alicia. but sally gave her such a sour look that darrell was annoyed, and didn’t go back to her after all.

privately darrell thought the hour of shakespeare was a dreadful waste, because it was a fine sunny afternoon when a game of lacrosse could have been arranged. still it would be fun to see zerelda trying to impress miss hibbert.

zerelda was excited. this was her great chance. if only she could bring it off—make miss hibbert say what a gift for acting she had. “zerelda, you’re a born actress!” she would say to her. “you have a great gift. you must turn all your attention to building it up. you have the right appearance, too—striking, graceful, mature. it will make me very proud to teach you this year!”

zerelda had done a little roll of hair on top of her head again—not so big a roll as before, certainly, but still a roll, pinned up to make her look older. her hair was not tied back so tightly either. she had made up her face a little—put red on her lips, pink on her cheeks, and had smothered herself with powder. her hands were white. her nails were very long and highly polished. she hoped she looked a finished actress!

miss hibbert did not look at all like a producer of plays. she was neat, with a well-fitting coat and skirt, and her hair, slightly wavy, was brushed well back. she wore a pair of glasses with rather thick rims. she was very efficient, and knew exactly how to pick the right actor for the right part.

she looked over the girls as they came in. she knew zerelda already because she had taken her for a few lessons in the fourth form. she looked in astonishment at zerelda’s make-up. good gracious! what did the girl think she was up to!

miss hibbert had absolutely no idea at all that zerelda fancied herself as an actress or as a film-star. nobody had told her. perhaps if she had known, she might have been a little more patient, even a little kinder. but she didn’t know.

there was a lot to get through. for one reason or another two rehearsals had been put off, and miss hibbert was feeling a little rushed for time. she handed out copies of the play and looked round the form.

“now—has anyone acted in this play before?”

nobody had. zerelda stepped forward and said a few words, trying to speak the english way. “please, miss hibbert, once i did lady macbeth, in shakespeare.”

“oh,” said miss hibbert, gazing at zerelda’s hair. “zerelda, i don’t like the way you do your hair. don’t come to my classes with that silly roll on top again.”

zerelda went red and stepped back.

“has anyone read the play?” darrell and mary-lou put up their hands, and so did zerelda.

“does anyone know any of the parts? has anyone been sufficiently interested to learn any of the speeches?” went on miss hibbert.

zerelda stepped forward again. “please, miss hibbert, i know all juliet’s speeches, every one of them. i guess i could say them all, right now. it’s a wunnerful part, juliet’s. i’ve been rehearsing it like mad.”

“yes. she’s awfully good as juliet,” put in gwendoline, and got a grateful smile from zerelda.

“very well. as you’ve taken the trouble to learn the part, you can take it this afternoon,” said miss hibbert. she looked round the class for a boyish third-former to take the part of romeo. her eye fell on bill.

“you,” she said. “what’s your name—wilhelmina—you can take the part of romeo today. and you, darrell, can be the nurse, and you . . .”

quickly she fitted part after part. the girls looked at their copies of the play and prepared to read and act them.

“not very inspired,” said miss hibbert, after the first few pages had been read. “turn to the part where juliet comes on. zerelda, are you ready?”

was she ready? why, she was waiting on tenterhooks to begin! she was full of it! she was juliet to the life, poor, tragic juliet.

zerelda launched herself into the part. she declaimed her lines in a most dramatic manner, she flung herself about, she marched up and down, she threw her head back, imagining herself to be beautiful and most lovable.

“stop, zerelda,” said miss hibbert, amazed. but zerelda did not stop. heedless of the giggles of the class she ranted on. irene gave one of her enormous snorts, and miss hibbert glared at her. she spoke loudly to zerelda again.

“stop, zerelda!”

zerelda stopped and stared blankly at miss hibbert, surprised to see that she looked so furious.

“how dare you behave like that?” stormed miss hibbert. “sending the class into fits! do you think that’s the way to behave in a shakespeare class? they may think it comical but i don’t. those are lovely lines you have been saying—but you have completely spoilt them. and do you really think it is clever to throw yourself about like that, and toss your head? don’t you know that juliet was young and gentle and sweet? you are trying to make her into some horrible affected film-star!”

zerelda took in what the angry mistress was saying. she could hardly believe it. she went rather white under the pink on her cheeks.

“and why have you made yourself up like that?” demanded miss hibbert, roused to more anger by the giggles of the rest of the form. “i cannot tell you how horrible you look with that stuff on your face. you would not dare to go to miss peters’ class like that. i’m not going to put up with it. you may as well make up your mind, zerelda, that you will never be an actress. you simply haven’t got it in you. all that happens is that you make yourself really vulgar. now go and wash your face and do your hair properly.”

zerelda felt like a balloon that had been pricked. all her confidence and pride oozed out of her. she crept to the door and went out. some of the girls felt sorry for her.

rather subdued by this unusual outburst, the rest of the form went on with the reading. miss hibbert, a little sorry that she had been so very hard on zerelda, handed out a few words of praise. “alicia, you’re good. mary-lou, you have a nice voice if you could remember to hold your head up when you speak your lines. darrell, i can see you are trying. next time we will all take different parts.”

“miss hibbert, had i better go and see what has happened to zerelda?” asked gwen, timidly. “miss hibbert, she really did think she had a gift for acting, you know. aren’t you going to let her be in the play at all?”

“i may give her a very small part—where she can’t throw herself about,” said miss hibbert. “but certainly not a good part. it must be obvious even to you, gwendoline, that zerelda hasn’t got the faintest idea of acting, and never will have. go and find her and tell her to come here to me. i want to talk to her. the class is now dismissed.”

the third-formers went out quietly. poor zerelda! what would she do now?

“put a bold face on it, i expect,” said alicia. “just as she did when she was sent down to the third form. she won’t care! she’ll go on in just the same way, thinking the world of herself, and very little of anyone else!”

zerelda was found by gwen in the cloakroom. she had washed her face quite clean and tied back her hair. but she had been too scared to go back to the art-room.

“zerelda, miss hibbert wants you,” said gwen. “i’m sorry about that row. it’s a shame.”

“can’t i act, gwen?” said zerelda, her lip quivering suddenly. gwendoline hesitated.

“well—you weren’t very good really,” she said. “you—you just seemed to be terribly funny. you might make a very good comedian, zerelda.”

zerelda said nothing but went off to the art-room. even gwen thought she couldn’t act! in fact, she was so bad that she became ridiculous. zerelda was shocked and dismayed. she dreaded hearing what miss hibbert had to say.

but miss hibbert was unexpectedly kind. “i hear that it is your ambition to be a great actress, zerelda,” she said. “well, my dear, it is given to very few of us to be that. you haven’t the gift—and you haven’t another thing that all really fine actresses need.”

“what?” whispered zerelda.

“well, zerelda, in order to be able to put yourself properly into some other character, you have to forget yourself entirely—forget your looks, your ambitions, your pride in acting, everything! and it takes a strong and understanding character to do that, someone without conceit or weakness of any sort—the finer the character of the actor, the better he can play any part. you are thinking of yourself too much. you were not juliet being acted by zerelda this afternoon—you were zerelda all the time—and not a very nice zerelda either!”

“shan’t i ever be any good at acting?” asked zerelda, miserably.

“i don’t think so,” said miss hibbert, gently. “i can always tell at once those who have any gift for it. you have let your foolish worship and admiration of the film-stars blind you, zerelda. why not try to be your own self for a while? stop all this posturing and pretending. be like the others, a schoolgirl sent here to learn lessons and play games!”

“it’s the only thing left for me to be,” said zerelda, and a tear ran down her cheek.

“it’s a very, very nice thing to be,” said miss hibbert. “you try it and see! i wouldn’t have been so hard on you if i’d known you had set your heart on being an actress. i thought you were just being ridiculous.”

zerelda left the art-room, hardly knowing what to think. she had made herself ridiculous. she never, never wanted to act again! all she wanted to do was to sink into being a nobody, hoping that none of the others would notice her and tease her about that afternoon.

she joined the others at tea, slipping into her place unnoticed by the girls. miss potts looked at her and saw that she had been crying. “funny thing!” thought miss potts, “it’s the first time i’ve noticed it, but zerelda is getting to look much more like the others now—a proper little schoolgirl. perhaps malory towers is beginning to have an effect after all!”

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