“I want to speak to you, Miss Tebbs,” said Eleanor as the teacher paused, her hand on the doorknob.

“Well, what can I do for you, Miss Savell?”

“I want to speak to you about the play.  I wish to play Rosalind,” said Eleanor with calm assurance.

“But, my dear child, Anne Pierson is to play Rosalind,” replied Miss Tebbs.  “Mr. Southard particularly commended her work.  Did you not hear what he said?”

“Oh, yes; I heard him complimenting her,” replied Eleanor complacently, “but I feel sure that I can do more with it than she can.  I did not do my best work to-day.  Besides, Miss Pierson is too short.  I am certain of making a better appearance.”

“What you say about appearance is quite true, Miss Savell,” replied Miss Tebbs frankly.  “Beyond a doubt you would make a beautiful Rosalind; but I am convinced that no other girl can enact the part with the spirit and dash that Miss Pierson can.  Your part of Celia is very well suited to you, and you can win plenty of applause playing it.  You must understand, however, that once having given out a part, I should not attempt to take it from the girl I had given it to simply because some other girl desired it.  That would be both unfair and unjust.  The only thing I could promise you would be to allow you to understudy Rosalind in case anything happened to Miss Pierson.  Would you care to understudy the part?”

Eleanor was silent for a moment.  Miss Tebbs, looking a trifle impatient, stood awaiting her reply.

“I should like to do that,” Eleanor said slowly, a curious light in her eyes.  “Thank you very much, Miss Tebbs.”

“You are welcome,” replied the teacher.  “Be sure and be prompt at rehearsal next Tuesday.”

As Miss Tebbs entered the office, Eleanor turned and walked slowly down the corridor.

“So Miss Tebbs thinks I ought to be satisfied with ‘Celia,’” she muttered.  “Very well, I’ll rehearse Celia, but I’ll understudy Rosalind, and it will be very strange if something doesn’t happen to Miss Pierson.”

CHAPTER XX

THE ANONYMOUS LETTER

After the parts had been given out, rehearsals for the play went merrily on.  There were many hitches at first, but finally things settled down to smooth running order, and as the time for its presentation approached Miss Tebbs had good reason to feel jubilant.  Each girl seemed bent on distinguishing herself, and that teacher was heard laughingly to declare that she had an “all star cast.”

In spite of rehearsals, Grace Harlowe’s team found time for a few basketball games, and whipped the senior team twice in succession, much to the disgust of Captain Julia Crosby, who threatened to go into deep mourning over what she called “her dead and gone team.”  She even composed a mournful ditty, which she sang in their ears in a wailing minor key whenever she passed any of them, and practically tormented them, until they actually did win one hard-fought victory over the juniors, “just to keep Julia from perpetrating her eternal chant,” as one of them remarked.