ROSEMARY.  Oh! . . .  Well, which is the wrong way?

JAMES.  Ah, there you’ve got me again, Miss.

ROSEMARY (inspired).  I know what I’ll do.  I’ll spell it “i-e”; and if it’s right, then I’m right, and if it’s wrong, then I’m funny.

JAMES.  Yes, Miss.  That’s the safest.

ROSEMARY.  Thank you, James.

JAMES.  Not at all, Miss. [He goes out.

ROSEMARY (writing).  Make-Believe.  A Christmas Entertainment——­ (She stops and thinks, and then shakes her head.) No, play—­a Christmas Play in three acts.  Er——­ (She is stuck.)

Enter JAMES.

JAMES.  Beg pardon, Miss, but the Misses and Masters Hubbard are without, and crave admittance.

ROSEMARY.  All nine of them?

JAMES.  Without having counted them, Miss, I should say that the majority of them were present.

ROSEMARY.  Did you say that I was not at home?

JAMES.  Yes, Miss.  They said that, this being their house, and you being a visitor, if you had been at home, then you wouldn’t have been here.  Yumour on the part of Master Bertram, Miss.

ROSEMARY.  It’s very upsetting when you’re writing a play.

JAMES.  Yes, Miss.  Perhaps they could help you with it.  The more the merrier, as you might say.

ROSEMARY.  What a good idea, James.  Admit them.

JAMES.  Yes, Miss. (He opens the door and says very rapidly) The Misses Ada, Caroline, Elsie, Gwendoline, and Isabel Hubbard, The Masters Bertram, Dennis, Frank, and Harold Hubbard. (They come in.)

ROSEMARY.  How do you do?

ADA.  Rosemary, darling, what are you doing?

BERTRAM.  It’s like your cheek, bagging our room.

CAROLINE (primly).  Hush, Bertram.  We ought always to be polite to our visitors when they stay with us.  I am sure, if Rosemary wants our room——­

DENNIS.  Oh, chuck it!

ADA (at ROSEMARY’S shoulder).  Oh, I say, she’s writing a play!

(Uproar and turmoil, as they all rush at ROSEMARY.)

{ THE BOYS.  Coo!  I say, shove me into it.  What’s { it about?  Bet it’s awful rot. { { THE GIRLS.  Oh, Rosemary!  Am I in it?  Do tell us { about it.  Is it for Christmas?

ROSEMARY (in alarm).  James, could you——?

JAMES (firmly).  Quiet, there, quiet!  Down, Master Dennis, down!  Miss Gwendoline, if you wouldn’t mind——­ (He picks her up and places her on the floor.) Thank you. (Order is restored.)

ROSEMARY.  Thank you, James. . . .  Yes, it’s a play for Christmas, and it is called “Make-Believe,” and that’s all I’m certain about yet, except that we’re all going to be in it.

BERTRAM.  Then I vote we have a desert island——­

DENNIS.  And pirates——­

FRANK.  And cannibals——­

HAROLD (gloatingly).  Cannibals eating people—­Oo!

CAROLINE (shocked).  Harold!  How would you like to be eaten by a cannibal?