Miss Adams, with all the enthusiasm of youth and a new vocation, was determined to make the entertainment a success. She spared no trouble over constant rehearsals, and having weeded out those girls who could not adapt themselves to her methods, she kept the rest well at work in any time that was available. She determined not only to have dances, but to give in addition a short Greek play, and selected for that purpose the famous fifteenth idyll of Theocritus. "But we're not to act it in Greek, surely!" objected Edith in alarm. "It's bad enough to have to learn French plays! We'd never be able to tackle Greek!" urged Dulcie, absolutely aghast. "Don't look so scared!" laughed Miss Adams. "I'm not going to ask you to give it in Greek. Probably few people would understand it if you did! I have a delightful translation here. It ought to take very well indeed with the audience. Come and squat on the grass, and I'll read it aloud to you first, and then I'll allot parts." "Is it _very_ stiff and educational?" groaned Dulcie, obeying unwillingly. "Wait and see! Come under the shade of the lilac bush, it's so hot to sit in the sun." The girls composed themselves into attitudes of more or less classic elegance, and Miss Adams, book in hand, began to read. "IDYLL XV "_Gorgo._ Is Praxinoe at home? "_Praxinoe._ Dear Gorgo, how long it is since you have been here! She _is_ at home. The wonder is that you have got here at last. Eunoe, see that she has a chair. Throw a cushion on it, too. "_Gorgo._ It does most charmingly as it is. "_Praxinoe._ Do sit down. "_Gorgo._ Oh, what a thing spirit is! I have scarcely got to you alive, Praxinoe! What a huge crowd! What hosts of four-in-hands! Everywhere cavalry boots, everywhere men in uniform. And the road is endless: yes, you really live _too_ far away! "_Praxinoe._ It is all the fault of that madman of mine! Here he came to the ends of the earth, and took--a hole, not a house, and all that we might not be neighbors. The jealous wretch, always the same, ever for spite! "_Gorgo._ Don't talk of Dinon, your husband, like that, my dear girl, before the little boy. Look how he is staring at you! Never mind, Zopyrion, sweet child, she is not speaking about papa. "_Praxinoe._ Our Lady Persephone! The child takes notice! "_Gorgo._ Nice papa! "_Praxinoe._ That papa of his the other day--we call every day 'the other day'--went to get soap and rouge at the shop, and back he came to me with salt--the great, big endless fellow!" "But, Miss Adams," interrupted Dulcie, "surely this isn't an old Greek play? It sounds absolutely and entirely modern!"