Miss Jeannette McGregor was at home, and received the captain and her brother in her boudoir, a charming little room, with velvet-pile carpet, gilding, and ormolu, and medallion pictures of celebrated beauties set in the oval paneled walls. A copy of Longfellow, all gold and azure, was in her hand; she had once heard Captain Cavendish express his admiration of the great American poet; and having seen her brother and he coming up the front steps, she had arranged this little tableau expressly for the occasion. If there was one young lady in all Speckport who more than another sincerely hated Nathalie Marsh, or more sincerely admired Captain Cavendish, that one was Miss McGregor. She had long been jealous of Natty's beauty, but now she detested her with an honest earnestness that, I think, only women ever feel. She kissed her whenever they met; she invited her to every party they gave; she made calls at Redmon: and she hated her all the time, and could have seen her laid in her coffin with the greatest pleasure. It is a very common case, my brethren; Judas Iscariot was not a woman, but kisses after his fashion are very popular among the gentler sex.
"Evangeline," said Captain Cavendish, taking up her book; "I always liked that, but never half so well as since I came to Speckport."
"Because you saw Miss Marsh in the character," said Jeannette, laughing, as young ladies must, in these cases.
"Miss Marsh took her character very well, but that is not the only reason why I shall long remember that night."
A glance accompanied this speech that brought a glow to Miss McGregor's cheek and a flutter to her heart. Captain Cavendish was a clever man. He had more irons in the fire than even Val knew of, and allowed none of them to cool; and it does take a clever man to make love discreetly to half-a-dozen women at once.
"Natty looked stunning that night," put in Alick; "she is the handsomest girl in Speckport."
"You think so—we all know that," said Jeannette, flashing a spiteful glance at him; "you have been making a simpleton of yourself about her for the last two years. Why don't you propose at once."
"Because she wouldn't have me," blurted honest Alick; "I wish to heaven she would! I would soon do the popping."
"Faint heart never won fair lady; take courage and try," said the captain.
Jeannette looked at him with her most taking smile.
"Are you quite sincere in that, Captain Cavendish?"
"Quite! Why not?"
"Oh, nothing! Only rumor says you are going to carry a Bluenose bride back to Merrie England."
"Perhaps I may. You are a Bluenose, are you not, Miss Jeannette?"
Before Jeannette could answer, a sort of shout from Alick, who was at the window, took their attention. Miss McGregor looked languidly over.
"Oh, how noisy you are! What is it, pray?"
The door-bell rang loudly.
"It's Natty herself and Laura Blair. You ought to have seen Natty driving up, captain; she handles the ribbons in tiptop style, and that black mare of Blair's is no joke to drive."
Before he had finished speaking, the door opened, and a servant showed in the two young ladies. Miss Jeannette sprang up with the utmost effusion, and kissed each on both cheeks.
"You darling Natty! It is ages since you were here. Laura, how good it is of you to fetch her! for I know it must have been you."
"So it was," said Laura, shaking hands with Captain Cavendish. "I haven't time, I haven't time, is always her cry. I tell her there will be time when we are all dead—won't there, captain?"
"I presume so, unless at the loss of Miss Laura Blair the whole economy of creation blows up with a crash."
"And so you see," said Laura, sitting down on a chair, and flirting out her skirts all around her, "I drove up to Redmon this morning, with a great basketful of English strawberries the size of crab-apples, as a coaxer to Lady Leroy; and through their eloquence, and the promise of another, got her to let Natty come to town with me on business."
"On business;" said Captain Cavendish; "that means shopping."
"No, sir, it doesn't; it means something serious, and that you must take share in. You, too, Jeannette, and you, Alick, if we run short."
"Thank you," said Alick, "what is it?"
"Why, you know," began Miss Blair, with the air of one about entering upon a story, "there's that Mrs. Hill—you know her, Alick?"
"What! the wife of the pilot who was drowned in the storm last week?"
"That's the one," nodded Laura. "Well, she's poor—Oh, dear me! ever so poor, and her two children down in the measles, and herself half dead with rheumatism. I shouldn't have known a thing about it only for Miss Rose. I do declare Miss Rose is next door to an angel; she found her out, and did lots of things for her, and told me at last how poor she was, and asked me to send her some things. So then I made up this plan."
"What plan?" inquired Jeannette, as Laura stopped for want of breath, and Nathalie sat listening with an amused look.
"Oh, didn't I tell you? Why, we're going to have a play, and every one of us turn into actors; admission, half a dollar. Won't it be grand?"
"And the play is Laura's own," said Nathalie; "nothing less than the adventures of Telemachus dramatized."
"That is delightful," said Jeannette, with sparkling eyes. "Have I a part, Laura?"
"To be sure, and so has Natty, and myself, and Captain Cavendish, and Val Blake, and Charley Marsh, and as many more as we want. The new wing that pa has built to our house is just finished, and, being unfurnished, will make a lovely theater. Only a select number of tickets will be issued, and the place is sure to be crowded. The proceeds will be a little fortune to Mrs. Hill."
"You should have given Miss Rose a part, as she was the head of it," suggested Alick.
"She wouldn't have it. I tried hard enough, but she was resolute. She is such a timid little thing, you know, and she would make a lovely nymph, too."
"What part have you assigned me?" inquired Captain Cavendish.
"Being a soldier and a hero, you are Ulysses, of course; Charley is Telemachus; Val is Mentor—fancy Val with flowing white hair and beard, like an old nanny-goat. Jeannette, you will be Calypso; Natty will take Eucharis; I, Penelope. I wanted Miss Rose to be Eucharis—the part would have suited her so well."
"I don't believe it would come natural to Charley to make love to her," said Alick; "he'll have to, won't he, if he is Telemachus?"
"You must change the casts, Miss Blair," said the captain, decidedly. "If Telemachus is to do the love-making, I must be Telemachus. Mr. Marsh and I must change."
"You would make such a nice Ulysses," said Laura, meditatingly, while Nathalie blushed; "but please yourself. You must all spend the evening at our house, and when the whole dramatis personæ are gathered, we can discuss and settle the thing for good, fix the rehearsal and the night of the play. Don't fail to come."
"You need not be in a hurry," said Jeannette, as Laura rose and was sailing off; "stay for luncheon."
"Couldn't possibly—promised to leave Natty back safe and sound in an hour, and it only wants ten minutes now. If we fail one second, she will never get off for rehearsals. Remember, you are all engaged for this evening."
The two long parlors of the Blairs were pretty well filled that night with young ladies and gentlemen, and a very gay party they were. There was so much laughing and chaffing over it, that it was some trouble to settle preliminaries; but Laura was intensely in earnest, and could see nothing to laugh at, and Captain Cavendish coming gallantly to her aid, matters were arranged at last. Charley Marsh, who was a Rubens on a small scale, undertook to paint the scenery, superintend the carpenters and the machinery of the stage. The young ladies arranged the costumes;