"I don’t think Shakespeare meant Rosalind to be a finished actress. She is a supremely lovable girl. I don’t think we would care so much for her if we didn’t realise the girl all the way through," Mr. Wycherly said thoughtfully. "Perhaps that pretty lady was right then," said Jane-Anne; "but somehow I _think_ Rosalind would have tried to behave more like a boy." "When you play Rosalind you shall give us a new reading of the part," Mr. Wycherly remarked carelessly. Jane-Anne cuddled closely against him. "When I’m grown up," she said, "I shall ask that Mr. Curly to take me about acting, too. How did he begin?" "That," Mr. Wycherly answered dreamily, "is a long story, and rather sad. No one wanted him to be anything of the kind——" "But he _had_ to!" exclaimed Jane-Anne. "He just had to, something drove him——" "I suppose so; even yet I think it a pity." "I don’t," Jane-Anne said decidedly. "I’d rather go about being people than anything—one could never be dull." "I’m not so sure of that," said Mr. Wycherly. For several nights now, both Bruey and "She walks in beauty like the night" were forgotten. Jane-Anne arose, after her aunt had taken away the candle, to impersonate Rosalind. She rolled her thick plait round her head and pinned it up with hairpins stolen from her aunt’s store. She achieved doublet and hose by means of two towels, several safety pins, and her long stockings. And the moon looked in at the window and was doubtless well amused. The moon waxed and waned and the end of July was at hand. Mr. Wycherly was plainly stirred out of his usual scholarly calm. His boys were coming home. Jane-Anne shared his excitement, and even Mrs. Dew felt it necessary to make a large cake and "to get in" quantities of stores of every description. Jane-Anne was strung up to the highest pitch of expectation. Although she had seen comparatively little of the "young gentlemen" when she first came to Holywell, she had heard about them so much and so constantly from the master, that she felt she, too, owned them. There was, moreover, the delightful sense of an "understanding" with Montagu. He had asked her to look after his guardian and she had done her best. Moreover, quick and sympathetic always, she early realised that not even the Greek Myths were so entrancing a subject to Mr. Wycherly as these two boys of his, and during their walks together she invariably led the conversation in their direction, and found it an easy and fascinating path. At last the great day came. The boys were to meet in London and come down together to Oxford by a train getting in just before tea. At the last moment Mr. Wycherly bade Jane-Anne come with him to the station. She was pale with excitement and could hardly speak.