"Of course I could!" he said scornfully. "My good girl, have you
seen the worthy New Englanders in this village? There are some of
the most beautiful characters, hereabouts, I was told when I went
seeking for chorus-ladies, that ever existed. But they are far from
being worn on the outside."
"Laura Ward is coming down over that week, to stay with me," Gail
offered.
"Yes, and Laura Ward has played _Celia_, and is going to have
to do it again," stated Clarence. "We can't waste a good dancer like
that on the chorus."
John, who was _Lord Mountararat_, one of _Phyllis'_ two
suitors from the House of Lords, was looking out of the window
absently, humming under his breath one of his songs:
_"It seems that she's a fairy
From Andersen's lib_rary
_And we took her for
The proprietor
Of a Ladies' Semi_nary!"
One of the unaccountable silences which sometimes fall made every
absently-sung word quite audible. As he ended Clarence sprang at him
in what would have been a wild embrace if he had not ducked in time.
"Here, don't let your troubles drive you crazy, Rutherford," John
protested, holding him off with a strong hand.
"They haven't!" proclaimed Clarence. "But 'them beautiful words!'
See here, you dwellers in this happy vale, isn't there a girls'
school somewhere adjacent? Why don't we bribe the teachers by making
it a benefit for whatever they want--a stained glass window to their
founder, or a new laboratory or something--and lift those girls
bodily, as a chorus?"
They had been seeking painfully for some worthy object to give the
opera for, and so far hadn't been able to find a thing.
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