by Emily Hahn
With a start, Francie realized that the second scene, where her presence was required, was approaching at a pretty good pace. She ran backstage to report for duty, and to make reassuring comments to Penny and Miss West.
It was when she was on the stage as a member of Titania’s train that she noticed something new about the audience. Somebody was sitting in her place, near the end of the bench next to Pop. She stared at him indignantly, feeling that Pop should have put up a fight for that seat, and then she looked again, incredulously. The boy had turned his head away and for a moment she saw only an ear and a side view of a crew cut. Then he turned back to face her. It really was Glenn. She nearly squealed outright in amazed joy.
“By paved fountain, or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,” said Titania.
It was Glenn, there could be no doubt about it. But how? What had happened? How had he known enough to come today, at the one time when he’d be sure of welcome at Fairfields? Francie had never attempted to write to him after the debacle of the forbidden date, though she had received various postcards from the Continent—pictures of the Champs-Elysees or the Vatican. As part of her punishment, Miss Maitland had censored all her mail, a practice which had a chilling effect on her desire to write letters.
Francie was so staggered by the sight of her friend that she completely forgot to care that she was in a play. Until that moment she had been admiring Penny for the smooth way the performance, after its late start, was clocking along. No one had yet gone up in his lines, and even the smallest girls were well drilled, thanks to Jennifer; but now she didn’t care a bit for that. She was only eager for the scene to come to an end, or at least for Titania with her attendants to leave the stage to Oberon and Puck, so that she herself might be at liberty for a few moments.
At last she was free to squeeze around the side of the curtain as quietly as possible, run down the corridor and get into the Hall near her family’s bench.
“Glenn!” she called in a whisper. “Glenn!”
He turned his head and smiled at her. Hesitating at first, he plucked up courage at last to slide out past knees and over feet. Just outside the Hall he met her with an eagerness equal to her own.
“Wherever did you pop up from?” she cried.
“Oh, Italy. I was in Spain too for a couple of days, after France. We had a swell time in Spain. Wish I could have stayed longer, but Bob had this boat to catch, and after that I was at loose ends, so—”
“You didn’t have a very long time, after all.”
“No, I guess not, but it’s no fun poking around in a foreign country on your own when you can’t talk the language. Say, listen, Francie—”
“How do you happen to be here, though, at Fairfields?”
“Well, I never heard from you and I figured something might be wrong, so I sent a wire to your Dad and he invited me today. I just made it in time. I couldn’t catch the same train as his, but he knew I’d turn up. We figured on surprising you.”
“Well, you did, all right. It was a swell surprise.”
“Glad you think so,” said Glenn with a sudden touch of formality. They were both quiet until he said, “Now listen, about this trouble I got you into, why didn’t you let me know? You didn’t have to face it all alone. Maybe I could have helped out. I can’t tell you what a heel it all makes me feel. Why, you might have been expelled, your Dad told me. He gave me quite a bawling-out.”
“He shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your fault at all. It was mine for not telling you in advance about the rules.”
“But if it hadn’t been for me—”
“Oh, skip it. I wasn’t expelled, anyway,” said Francie, looking down at her feet in their gilded ballet slippers.
“How’s Penny? Bob will want to know.”
“Penny’s fine. You know she directed and produced this show, the whole thing. Did you know that?”
“No kidding! It’s a good show, too, lots better than most of these things I’ve seen. You looked awfully nice up there on the stage yourself, Francie.”
Another awkward silence fell.
“I don’t have much of a part,” she said at last.
“I know; your father said you designed the scenes and all that instead. Between you and me, I think you girls are wonderful, putting on a show like this. Everybody’s saying how well it goes and how sort of unusual the stage sets are.”
“Really, Glenn?” Francie’s eyes shone. “Oh, that’s wonderful.”
“It’s not only me who says it. I’ve overheard some of them.”
“Well, of course everybody has a daughter or a cousin or something in the performance, which makes a difference.” She tore her attention away from Glenn to look at the stage. “Goodness,” she said, “I’ve got to get back, but quick! I’ll come out again as soon as I can. ’Bye now.”
Francie found Penny deeper than ever in the intricacies of her work, inclined to show bad temper with her until she told her news.
“Guess what! Glenn’s come back!”
“Glenn?” Penny stared in disbelief. “You mean he’s out front now?”
“Look for yourself; he’s sitting on the same bench as your mother. I’m sorry he couldn’t have brought Bob as well, but Bob had to go on with his father to the States.”
Penny giggled mischievously. “What a good thing Miss Maitland never saw him. She’d have a fit if she knew, wouldn’t she?”
They heard Puck saying on the stage, “Fear not, my lord, your servant shall do so.”
“That’s our cue. Both of us. Come on!” cried Penny, and they abandoned gossip to hurry onstage as the curtain fell. Francie had to see that her trees were shifted to a new position, to denote Another part of the forest.
A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a long play. Usually when it is put on at a school it seems longer than ever. There are all the Fourth Form fairies who must do their special ballets, and so on. But that afternoon it didn’t seem as long and boring as usual; the teaching staff admitted it happily among themselves. When Puck made his curtain speech,
“Give me your hands if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends”
a large proportion of the audience was pleasantly surprised to discover that they were actually at the end, and that little Jane or Susan had not after all disgraced herself.
Backstage, Penny was a nervous wreck, but Francie rushed out again to meet Glenn.
She interrupted a scene she could never have imagined in her wildest dreams. Glenn, in company with her father and Aunt Lolly, was in animated conversation with Miss Maitland, of all people. The headmistress turned to greet her as she approached, and she was actually laughing.
“There you are, Frances. As you see I’ve made the acquaintance at last of your young friend. He has behaved beautifully, and apologized for everything.”
Francie glanced in wonder at Glenn, who blushed. “I’m glad,” she muttered, confused. “I always thought that if you’d really met him you mightn’t have worried.”
“All’s well now, at any rate,” said Miss Maitland, “and before I go, I must congratulate you on the stage sets. They were really excellent. You showed a genuine understanding of your work. Didn’t you think so, Mr. Nelson? We’re all very pleased with Frances this afternoon.”
Mr. Nelson looked exceedingly gratified. “She’s always been good at art,” he admitted.
“I hope she won’t forget about it when she returns to your home. We have two very talented girls in this year’s finishing class. Penelope’s direction was remarkably good, I thought,” said Miss Maitland, “and I must hurry now to tell her mother what I think of it.”
“Oh yes, Miss Maitland,” cried Francie. “Do lay it on thick, won’t you?”
The headmistress gave her an understanding nod and disappeared in the crowd. Pop looked after her. “She turned out to be quite human, after all,” he said. “Well now, kids, what’s next o
n the program?”
“I thought Aunt Lolly might like to—” began Francie, but Aunt Lolly shook her head, smiling.
“Whatever it is, it must wait. I too must talk a little more with Mrs. Stewart, as soon as Miss Maitland has finished,” she said. “Suppose we meet at the front door when they’re serving tea to the parents.”
“That’s queer,” said Francie, as Mrs. Barclay went off. “I shouldn’t have thought Aunt Lolly would be so enthusiastic about Penny’s people.”
“Your Aunt Lolly always knows what she’s doing,” said Glenn. “Shall we go on and find out where all the people get those cups and plates?”
“Yes, let’s.”
“Oh, Francie, Francie!”
Penny came rushing through the tea-drinking throng, forgetful of them all. She was wildly excited and happy. She threw herself on the wondering Francie, so that tea splashed from Francie’s cup and Glenn had to leap to the rescue with a pocket handkerchief. Pop just looked on and grinned.
“Whatever is it?” asked Francie, somewhat indignant.
“I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter. Francie, it’s all fixed, isn’t it wonderful? Your Aunt Lolly is a magician, absolutely. Oh, I’ve never been so happy in my life!” She squeezed her friend rapturously, and more tea was splashed.
“Now wait a minute. Glenn, would you mind holding this? Thanks. Now, Penny, explain.”
“I’m going in for stage work!” cried Penny. “I’m going right on to a dramatic school as soon as the summer holiday is over. There’s no more danger of secretarial school. Does that explain everything?”
“But your Uncle Jim—”
“It’s all right about Uncle Jim. He’s convinced. He’s been talked over. He—I know it sounds like boasting, but I think he’s actually proud of me, Francie. It was Miss Maitland who began it, telling him how good she thought the Dream was, and some other people said so too, and on top of that just when he was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t been wrong all along, your marvelous Aunt Lolly came along and finished it somehow. I don’t know exactly how she did it, but Mummy says she was incredibly clever. And Francie, I’m going back to the States! It’s Mrs. Barclay again who did that. She’s written to a friend of hers in New York and it’s practically settled already; I’m getting an exchange scholarship in a New York school for a whole year. I can have my holidays with you. I think I must be dreaming. I think it’s a wonderful world. Pinch me, so I can be sure I won’t wake up.”
“Penny!” Joy rendered Francie almost speechless. At last she gasped, “And to think that just a few weeks ago—”
“I know. Whoever would have thought it?”
Little by little the crowd drifted out of the Hall and away from Fairfields. One by one, cars drove up to the great door and carried off girls, parents, and luggage. The big old house grew quiet. The last party to leave was Francie’s. In the taxi she twisted around to take a farewell look as they rode off, down the drive.
“Tired, chicken?” asked Pop.
“Not yet. I’m still too excited.” She sighed and leaned back against Glenn’s protecting arm. “Oh, what a splendid day! Aunt Lolly, if you hadn’t ever done another nice thing in your life, you’d go to Heaven just on account of Penny.”
“I’m glad if you think I helped,” said Aunt Lolly in a modest little voice. They all laughed.
“Pop,” said Francie suddenly, “about that fur coat—”
“Yes? I guess I’ve lost out on that, all right,” said Pop genially. “What’s it going to be? I can’t afford sable, remember, but anything a little more within reason—”
“I don’t want sable or any fur coat. I want the money you’d have spent, instead. I have a special use for it.”
“What’s that, honey?”
“Well, it’s for Fairfields. Dear old place. I never thought I’d be feeling like this, leaving it, but I do. I actually feel sad … I thought if you gave me the coat money, Pop, in American dollars, I could send things here to everybody I know. You know—parcels. I’d send the first one to—can you guess?”
“Miss Maitland?” guessed Pop.
“No.”
“Penny?” said Glenn.
“No, silly. Penny will be coming to America; she won’t need parcels.”
“The games mistress who had concussion?” asked Aunt Lolly.
“No, I’ll do all that too, of course, later, but my first parcel will be for Jennifer Tennison.” Francie chuckled with deep satisfaction at the thought. “It will make Jennifer perfectly furious to get a parcel from America,” she said contentedly.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1951 by Emily Hahn
Cover design by Mauricio Diaz
ISBN: 978-1-5040-2472-3
Distributed in 2015 by Open Road Distribution
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New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
