"No, it was my fault. I should have gone myself. It's always wiser. It saves trouble in the long run. Never mind, Louise. You couldn't help it. Are you sure of your words?"
Louise, infinitely relieved, was quite sure of her words.
"Very well. Shut the door after you--oh, Louise!"
"I may as well explain to you now. I am re-arranging the classes."
"You will be in the Upper Fourth next term."
Louise stood petrified. She had never thought of this.
"You are moving me down? I am third still."
"We think--Miss Marsham agrees with me--that the work in the Fifth is too much for you. It is not your fault."
"Miss Hartill, I have tried--I am trying."
"I am quite sure of it. I tell you that I'm not blaming you. I blame myself. If I expected more of you than you could manage--no one but myself is to blame. I am sure you will do well in the Fourth."
Clare held out her crown at arm's length, and eyed it between criticism and approval as she answered Louise.
"I think," said Clare smoothly, "we had better not discuss the examination."
Louise stood in the doorway, her mouth quivering.
Alwynne could stand the scene no longer. She jerked herself upright, and, going to the child, slipped her arm about her and pushed her gently from the room.
Clare was still admiring her crown, as Alwynne shut the door again. Alwynne must try it on. It would suit Alwynne.
Alwynne peeped at herself in the little mirror, but her thoughts were with Louise on the other side of the door.
"Clare," said Alwynne uneasily, "you hurt that child."
"Do her good," she said. "Do you think no one has ever hurt me?"
Alwynne was silent. At times her goddess puzzled her.
To the schoolgirls the dress rehearsal was, if possible, more of an ordeal than the performances themselves. The head mistress attended in state with the entire staff and such of the girls as were not themselves acting. Stray relatives, unable to be present at the play proper, dotted the more distant benches, or were bestowed in the overhanging galleries, while the servants, from portly matron to jobbing gardener, clustered at the back of the hall.
The platform at the upper end had been built out to form a stage, and when, late in the afternoon, the final signal had been given and the improvised curtains drew audibly apart, Clare had fair reason to plume herself on her stage-management.