"Oh, poodle soup!" ejaculated Bobby, under her breath. "Don't anybody dare spring old saws and sayings on me in my present mood." "I believe you'd bite, Bobby," whispered Nellie Agnew. A cry went up for Lily Pendleton, and then it was found that she was not present. "The only girl who is made of either sugar or salt," declared Josephine Morse. "Of course, the snow would keep her away!" "But where is her friend, Miss Grimes?" asked Mr. Mann, rather tartly. "I shall have my work cut out for me in training her, I fear." "You will, indeed," moaned Laura. "Now, Mr. Mann!" cried Bobby boldly, "you are not really going to let that Hester Grimes act in this play, are you? She is perfectly horrid!" "Miss Hargrew," was the somewhat sharp answer, "I hope you will not let personal dislikes enter into this play. It does not matter who or what Miss Grimes may be, if she can take the part--" "But she'll never be able to do it in the world!" "That is to be seen," said Mr. Mann firmly. "Remember, we are working for the benefit of the Red Cross." "Hear! Hear!" murmured Laura. "Perhaps Hester will do very well." "And perhaps she won't!" snapped Bobby. "Why, she can't possibly _act!"_ Jess Morse said hopelessly. "You will let me be the judge of that, Miss Morse, if you please," said Mr. Mann, speaking rather tartly. "Mercy, everybody to-day is as crisp as pie-crust--no two ways about it!" whispered Bobby to Jess. The girls plowed home through the deep snow, most of them in no mood for amusement. Even Laura Belding had a long face when she entered the house. "How was the funeral?" asked Chet, who was buried in one of the deep library chairs with a book. "What?" she asked before she caught his meaning. "You must have buried somebody by the way you look," declared her brother. "Don't nag, Chettie," sighed his sister. "We are having terrible times." "I judged so," Chet said dryly. "Don't you always have sich when you girls go in for acting?" "Now--" "I am sympathetic, Laura--I swear I am!" her brother cried, putting up his hands for pardon. "Don't shoot. But of course things always will go wrong. Who is it--Bobby? Or Jess? Or Lil?" "It is Hester Grimes." "Wow!" exclaimed Chet. "I didn't know she was in it at all." Laura told him of the emergency that had arisen and how Hester Grimes seemed certain to be drawn into the affair. "Why, that big chunk can't act," said Chet quite impolitely. "She looks enough like her father to put on his apron and stand behind one of his butcher blocks." "Oh, that is awful!" Laura objected. "But I know she will spoil our play." "Humph! Why didn't you, Laura, suggest somebody else for the part, as long as Margit couldn't take it?" "I didn't know of anybody." "I thought they called you 'Mother Wit,'" scoffed Chet. "You're not even a little bit bright." "No, I guess you are right. I have lost all my brightness," sighed Laura. "It has been rubbed off."