The Mystery of the Velvet Gown

too. I just realized it, but I can’t remember where.”
    “Now who needs to have everything ‘perfectly understandable’?” Trixie laughed.
    “I know,” Honey said. “I’m getting as bad as you. It’s probably nothing, but I know I’ve seen him before—somewhere....”

The Costumes From England ● 5

    THE FIRST FEW DAYS of rehearsal went smoothly. “Work downstage,“
    “Stay to the center line,” and “Exit stage left” now made some sense to the cast and crew, who eagerly worked together under Eileen Darcy’s direction.
    Trixie, up to her elbows in paint, was carefully filling in a backdrop for one of the scenes. “I never imagined there was so much work to do!” she exclaimed to Jim Frayne, who was working beside her. He had volunteered as one of the senior aides to help with scenery and posters.
    “This is just the beginning, Trixie,” Jim told her. “Wait until you have to have all the props ready and the scenes set up on time. But you’ll have a shift chart for that,” he added.
    “A shift chart?”
    “Sure,” Jim answered. “Stagehands work in pairs, because things have to be set up and taken down quickly between scenes. You and your partner will be assigned things to do in a certain order. Let’s say that one scene calls for a chair and the next one doesn’t. Your shift chart will say ‘set chair’ for that first scene and ‘strike chair’ for the next scene.”
    “Oh,” Trixie said. “I should have guessed what it meant. You know, Jim,” she continued more cheerfully, “this is really a lot of fun. Everyone is working together, helping each other. I like it.”
    “Maybe you’ll change your career plans,” Jim teased, “and take up set designing.”
    “Never!” Trixie laughed. “I don’t like it that much.”
    They finished the backdrop and quickly cleaned up. On the way back to the auditorium, they stopped in the wardrobe room to see how Honey was doing. As they approached, they could hear Jane Morgan’s voice.
    “Honey Wheeler, you took this in too much. Now look at how it fits her!” Jane was pointing to a costume worn by one of the girls in the cast.
    “Why, Jane,” Trixie said innocently as she entered the room, “I didn’t know you were in charge of the costume crew.”
    “I’m not,” Jane snapped back, “but someone has to keep an eye on all these people who don’t know what they’re doing. We have to make some of the costumes, you know. It seems only Juliet gets the special ones from England.” Trixie held her temper with difficulty. She turned to Honey. “It’s almost time for lunch, Honey. Why don’t you come out in front with us and watch the end of the rehearsal?”
    Honey nodded, picked up her sewing equipment, and walked out with them.
    “Whew! I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side,” Jim whistled when they were out of earshot. “What did you do to her, Honey, stick her with a needle?”
    “She should have!” Trixie exclaimed. She explained to Jim that Jane was jealous of Di for getting the part of Juliet and that she seemed to be taking it out on everyone else.
    “But honestly, Honey, I don’t know how you can tolerate her!” Trixie said, exasperated. “ ‘Too long, too short, too tight....’ She’s just doing that to aggravate you.”
    “I know,” Honey responded, “but jealousy can sometimes make people do strange things. I don’t think Jane really means to be that way.“
    “Of course she does!” Trixie retorted. “Honey, you’re just too nice sometimes. You’re always trying to see the good side of people, and usually they end up taking advantage of you.”
    Trixie became silent as they entered the auditorium and slipped into front row seats. The cast was working on Act II, Scene II, in which Juliet speaks to Romeo from her balcony window.
    Miss Darcy still seemed very much on edge, and according to Miss Trask, who spoke to the drama teacher daily, there was still no word about her father. Peter Ashbury came to rehearsals every day and sat quietly in the back of the auditorium until lunch break.
    Trixie watched her pretty friend rehearse the part of Juliet.
    ‘Good-night, good-night! parting is such sweet sorrow....’ ” Di faltered and stopped.
    She blushed a deep red, then stammered through the line again, repeating “sweet sorrow” several times.
    “Well, Diana?” Miss Darcy demanded impatiently, her voice sharp.
    Poor Di, Trixie groaned inwardly.
    Suddenly a voice was heard from the wings.