# The Girls of Central High on the Stage/Chapter 19

CHAPTER XIX
THE FIRST DRESS REHEARSAL
Laura Belding was a particularly frank, outspoken girl, and when she met Lily Pendleton that Saturday night at the rehearsal of Jess's play, she came out "flat-footed," as her chum would have said, with the question:
"Who was that in the sleigh with you to-day, Lil?"
Lily flushed instantly, bridled, and smiled. "Who do you s'pose?" she returned.
"I don't believe your mother knew you had that theatrical man to drive with you," said Laura, bluntly.
"Why, how you talk! I merely met Signor Pizotti, and took him up——"
"You don't know who he is," spoke Laura.
"Oh, indeed, Miss! And do you?" demanded Lily, rather sharply.
"No. And I don't want to know him."
"He is a very scholarly man—and he knows ​all about staging this play. If it wasn't for him, I guess, 'The Spring Road' would suffer from frost," said Lily, with an unkind laugh.
"That may be," said Laura, flushing a little herself, for any slur cast upon her chum's play hurt her, too. "But his knowledge of how to produce or stage a play does not establish his private character."
"Pooh! you are interfering in something that you know nothing about," declared Miss Pendleton, loftily. "And it does not concern you at all."
"I do not believe your mother would approve," ventured Laura.
"Never you mind about my mother," snapped Lily, and turned her back on Mother Wit.
The latter took herself to task later, thinking she had been too presumptuous.
"But really," she said to Jess, on their way home that evening, "I did not mean to be. Only, the man looks so unreliable. I'm afraid of him."
"I'm not afraid of him," said Jess, decidedly. "I only dislike him. But there is no accounting for tastes. My mother knew of a foolish girl who wrote to an opera tenor—one of those handsome, spoiled foreigners, and she sent him her photograph and told him how much she liked his singing—and all that. Just a silly letter, you ​know. But she didn't sign her name and she thought he would never learn who she was.
"But he went to the photographer," continued Jess, "and bribed him to tell who the girl was, and by that time she had written to the man several times, and he had written to her. So then he threatened her that if she did not give him five hundred dollars he would send her letters to her father. And she was in dreadful trouble, for she was afraid of what her father would do."
"Oh, Lil won't do anything like that!" gasped Laura. "I don't believe she even thinks she cares about that Pizotti. It is only his foreign way that makes it appear so. But I believe he is flattering her about her play, and perhaps will get money from her or her mother."
"Pizotti! Ha!" grunted Jess, before they separated. "I'm like Bobby Hargrew: I don't believe that's even his name. It sounds too fancy to be a real name."
But Mr. Pizotti was an able man in his business. He came from time to time to the M. O. R. house and his advice regarding the play was always practical. He was something of a musician, too, and played the accompaniments for the girls who sang in "The Spring Road." He suggested improvements in the costumes, too; and ​Lily Pendleton was entirely guided by his taste in her choice of the gowns she was to wear in the production.
Mrs. Pendleton was a very busy woman in a social way and allowed her daughter to do about as she pleased. Lily aped the manners of girls who had long since graduated from school and were flashy in their dress and manners.
To tell the truth, the after-hour athletics, governed by Mrs. Case, had been the one saving thing in Lily Pendleton's life for some months. She would have become so enamored of fashion and frivolity, had it not been for the call of athletics, that she would have fallen sadly behind in her school work.
But she liked certain activities enjoyed by those who were attentive to Mrs. Case's classes; and to gain these privileges one had to stand well in her general studies. Lily was smart enough, was a quick student, and so kept up her school work.
This business of acting appealed to her immensely. She was "just crazy about it," as she admitted to her particular friend, Hester Grimes.
"I wish my folks were poor, so that I would have to work when I leave school," she declared. "Then I'd go on the stage myself."
​"You wouldn't!" exclaimed Hester.
"I would in a minute. And this Signor Pizotti could place me very advantageously——"
"Pooh! you don't believe anything that fellow says, do you?" demanded her chum, who was eminently practical and had none of the silly ideas in her head that troubled Lily.
"You don't know him!" exclaimed Lily.
"Don't want to," replied Hester, gruffly.
Preparations for the first dress rehearsal of "The Spring Road" went on apace. But, of course, Bobby Hargrew would have bad luck! She was thrown from Short and Long's bobsled one night and had to be helped home. The hurt to her foot was a small matter; but the doctor said she would have to wear her arm in a sling for a time.
"And how can I play Arista with my arm strapped to my side?" wailed Bobby, when Jess and Laura came in to commiserate with her over the accident. "Oh, dear me! I am the most unlucky person in the world. If it was raining soup I'd have a hole in my dipper!"
Mr. Monterey, the local manager, came himself to the dress rehearsal. He only sat out front, and watched and listened; and he went away without expressing an opinion to anybody. Yet Jess saw him there and was excited by the ​possibility of Mr. Monterey's recognizing the value of the play for professional purposes.
At the Morse domicile things were going better, and the girl's mind was vastly relieved from present troubles. Yet she was wise enough to see that in the offing the same danger of debt threatened them if they were not very, very careful.
It was true that scarcely half the prize money had been spent; yet Mrs. Morse's regular work on the Courier barely fed them; and her success with the popular magazines was but fitful. Sometimes two months passed without her mother receiving even a ten-dollar check from her fugitive work.
Oh, if she could only find somebody who would take the play—after the M. O. R.'s had made use of it—and whip it into shape for professional use, and give her a part of the proceeds!
That was the thought continually knocking at the door of Jess Morse's mind. It was "too good to be true," yet she kept thinking about it, and hoping for the impossible, and dreaming of it.
However, the dress rehearsal of "The Spring Road" was pronounced by the teachers and Mr. Pizotti as eminently satisfactory. Bobby was ​letter-perfect in her part, if she did have "a damaged wing," as she said. And most of the other important roles were well learned.
The very prettiest girl of Central High had been chosen for the chief female character, and in this case prettiness went with brains. She had learned her part, and was natural and graceful, and was altogether a delight.
As for Launcelot Darby, he was the most romantic looking Truant Lover that could have been found. And he played with feeling, too, although his mates were making a whole lot of fun of him on the side. But Laura had urged him to do his best, and Lance would have done anything in his power to please Mother Wit.
Chet Belding, as a peasant, "made up" well, and was letter perfect, too, in his part, if a little awkward. But that did not so much matter, considering the character he had to portray. And, of course, he would do nothing to belittle Jess's play. His whole heart was in his work, too.
So, after that first dress rehearsal, the committee and Jess were hopeful of success. The time for the production of the play was set, the tickets printed, and out of school hours everything was in a bustle of preparation for the great occasion.