Free Lovers' Vows by Joan Smith

pageant, and there are the Christmas baskets to be made up. The local ladies could be more gainfully occupied than spending their time in an entertainment for the gentry.”
    “I don’t intend to waste my time, Mr. Johnson,” Holly assured him. “He asked me to take part, and I told him I would not. My aunt expects me to chaperone, but I believe once the rehearsals begin there will be others who can do it as well. Someone will have to play the Ladies Montague and Capulet—some mature ladies, and there is no reason they cannot chaperone Jane.”
    “Who is to play the roles, have you heard?” he asked, with more interest than Holly felt the matter warranted though, upon consideration, she felt it was only a concern that some of his other good workers might be stolen away from him.
    “I’m sure Mrs. Raymond will not, nor Miss Boggs. Don’t fear we will desert you at such a busy season, Mr. Johnson.”
    “That is kind of you. I knew I might depend on your good sense in this business. I only hope it does not go to Jane’s head, all the attention. But she is a good little girl. She will keep her feet on the ground.”
    “Dewar has not been in touch with you at all about business—the orphanage, the church roof?” Holly confirmed.
    “Not so much as a note putting off our meeting. I might as well never have written to him. I have been ignored entirely, after hounding him till I am ashamed of it. It is really too bad of him.”
    “I shall undertake to remind him, next time he comes here prating of plays,” Holly said, with a martial light glowing in her eye.
    “You might just mention it in a discreet way, if the opportunity should arise.”
    “The opportunity will arise, Mr. Johnson. I guarantee it.”
    * * *
    While this conversation was going forth at Stonecroft, Lord Dewar was scouring his library for copies of the play, and when he could find only two he dashed an express off to Hatchard’s in London for the rest. He then held a conference with his guests to decide on roles. Miss McCormack, without knowing it, was cast in the role of Lady Capulet, while Rex flipped through the pages to see which of the minor personages shared a scene with Juliet. He noticed the name Friar Laurence often occurred on the same page with her, but mouthing such impossibly long speeches that he did not volunteer.
    “It would be appropriate to have Mr. Johnson play Friar Laurence,” his mother suggested. “ A churchman and all. Excellent casting.”
    “Would he be willing to do anything so daring?” Dewar asked.
    “He’ll leap at the chance, and he could learn the lines easily too, for he has half the scriptures by heart. He rattles them off on Sunday without hardly a glance at his book. Has a good loud voice. You can’t catch a wink of sleep in church when he is talking.”
    “I’ll go and see him this afternoon,” Dewar said. “I could do with a little exercise.”
    “What about Rex and me?” Foxworth asked him.
    “Come along if you like.”
    “I mean, what parts are we to have in the play? Been looking it over. A dandy duel scene here in the third act. Tybalt and Mercutio. Me and Rex could do that. Not too many words you know, but a good rousing sword fight.”
    “Not a bad idea. Smallish parts. Practicing their duel will keep ‘em out of mischief,” Altmore said aside to Dewar.
    “I seem to recall Mercutio survives the duel, and has a fair speaking part,” Dewar countered.
    “So he does. Rex is the more inarticulate. He must be Tybalt. He will enjoy dying. Grunts and groans are not beyond him.”
    “We shall try them, and see how it works out,” Dewar decreed.
    The next mention of Romeo and Juliet heard by Holly, other than a few reminders each day from Lady Proctor to her daughter that she ought to start looking over her lines, if only they could find the book, occurred on Monday afternoon when Mr. Johnson once more came to call. The Proctors, mother and daughter, had gone into Harknell to try to find a