Chapter 14: In Disguise

“Learned Sophomores! full of information,

‘Yes, we know it all,’ your manner seems to say.

Learned Sophomores! In each generation,

Sophomores will be Sophomores in the same old way.”

Thus under her breath Clarissa, from her seat in the Auditorium, hummed a strain from a Radcliffe song. Girls were gathering in the room to witness an Idler play.

“Sometime,” said Clarissa, “I’ll be a Senior, and have a front seat. But if you can’t have the first, the fifth row isn’t so very bad.”

While waiting for the play to begin, the girls in Clarissa’s neighborhood chatted gaily. The play had attracted many of the Alumnæ, because it was the work of a Radcliffe girl who had been out of college a year or two. They waited a little impatiently, for the Auditorium was really overcrowded, with girls sitting on the steps and leaning on the ledges of the windows leading into the conversation room.

“Oh, I do wish that they would begin!”

“Why can’t girls ever do anything on time? It is so uncomfortable sitting in this stuffy room!”

These and other murmurs came from various parts of the Auditorium. It was certainly much past the hour, and yet the curtain did not rise. At last the President came forward. “I must ask your indulgence,” she said, as she stood in front of the curtain. “Something has gone wrong with the curtain, we cannot raise it; but while we are waiting for a carpenter, Miss Harmon has kindly consented to read.” At this there was much applause, for Annabel had a well-trained voice, and sufficient self-confidence to make whatever she did very effective. Accordingly, she came forward attired in a white muslin gown, pale blue sash, and a leghorn hat lined with blue. She was to wear the costume in the play, and no one could deny that it was most becoming. Annabel read in a plaintive tone. She read old ballads and modern love songs, two of each, and the audience applauded most heartily. Then she tried a bolder flight, a dramatic monologue, and still her hearers were enthusiastic. She bowed her thanks, smiled, and then a movement of the curtain was seen. Annabel stood there unconscious of anything but the audience before her. There was a vigorous clapping of hands from a distant corner.

“Why, that sounds like a man, doesn’t it?” said a girl behind Julia, leaning over toward her. Just then a huge bunch of carnations fell at Annabel’s feet with a heavy thud, as if thrown by some one used to handling missiles. Again Annabel smiled and courtesied, and again the audience applauded, with one pair of hands sounding louder than the rest.

Clarissa looked at her watch, and closed the cover with a snap.

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have the play begin; we didn’t come to a reading.”

The Idler President again appeared in front of the curtain and said something to Annabel. The latter, smiling pleasantly, opened a book. The curtain rose behind her, with the stage set for the play; but she began to read again, slowly and with great expression, while in the background the heads of various girls were seen peering from behind the scenes, evidently impatient for Annabel to stop.

Some of the audience, with a sense of the ridiculous, began to laugh, but Annabel was unconscious of everything but the applause. She stood as if waiting an encore.

“Is it a wonder,” whispered Julia to Clarissa, “that she got the Class Presidency? I believe that she hypnotizes people.”

“Ah, she reads like—like—a bird,” said Clarissa magnanimously.

“You couldn’t honestly say ‘like an angel,’” said Julia, and Clarissa shook her head.

How long this unpremeditated performance might have continued no one can say. Before Annabel could recite again the President came forward, announcing firmly that the play was to begin. On Annabel’s face as she withdrew there was a decidedly aggrieved expression. Nevertheless, when she appeared in the play she looked as cheerful as her wont, and said her lines in a melodious voice. Ruth was a middle-aged Englishwoman, with a becoming lace cap. The girl who played a man’s part wore high boots and a long drab coat, the skirts of which came below the tops of her boots.

The setting was good, the dialogue bright, and the audience at last dispersed with the feeling that the whole performance had been a great success.

“Who was that tall girl who passed us?” asked Julia, when the play was over.

“I am sure I do not know, at least I did not notice her.”

“I always feel,” Julia continued, “as if all the Alumnæ are acquainted. But I can see that it would be hard for them all to know one another. The girl that I speak of was tall and rather awkward, and she pushed her way through the crowd without speaking to a soul.”

“Oh, she may have been a friend of some one in the play. Each was allowed to invite a guest from outside. Somebody told me that Annabel Harmon thought that they might have been permitted to ask men.”

“Yes, because she thought that she would look particularly fetching. For a sensible girl, she is certainly almost as vain as they make them.”