The Cricket Part 44

"Well, come in," he said, curtly; and they went into the theatre.

It was Isabelle's first view of the hindside of the mysteries. It was a hot day, and rehearsal was in progress. A group of people sat listlessly about the stage, on kitchen chairs, while a man in a neglige s.h.i.+rt and no coat urged them to get a little "pep" into the scene "for the love of G.o.d!" Cartel's arrival caused a ripple. All the actors sat up, as if electrified. The stage manager advanced at once to speak with him. He glanced at Isabelle, but Cartel made no move to introduce them. In fact he seemed to have forgotten about her. He issued brief orders, asked a few questions, turned to go. Then, as if on an afterthought, he added:

"By the way, Jenkins, this is Miss Isabelle Bryce. Try her out in the maid's part, will you?"

Mr. Jenkins nodded to Isabelle, who was furious at her hero for this casual treatment of her career.

"Come over here," ordered Jenkins, indicating a chair and offering her a script. "Read 'Mary,'" he added, briefly, and went on with the rehearsal.

Isabelle was dazed. It was so different from her idea of it. She had supposed Cartel would introduce her to the company and the manager as a genius he had discovered this summer. She thought she would be made much of, as his protegee. Instead of which she was set upon a kitchen chair, like a strange kitten, and told to read "Mary." n.o.body paid any attention to her. They did not even look at her. They went on, indifferently, reading their parts, moving here and there on orders from Jenkins. Suddenly her name was rapped out:

"Your cue, Miss Bryce."

She fumbled her script, blushed furiously, found the place, and read stupidly, beginning with the cue.

" . . . Where is she? Mrs. Horton telephoned she would be here at five, sir."

"Well, get up," ordered Jenkins, testily. "You enter R., upper door.

Come front and answer Horton, who stands L. C. Then you exit L., up stage."

They all looked at her now. She felt their impatience, their supercilious smiles. She knew she was that leper in the theatre--an amateur. She did not know what Jenkins was talking about with his down R's, and his up L's.

He entered as Mary and showed her the business. She caught the idea at once, and he grunted something which might have been approval or a curse.

The rest of the time she spent in fevered attention to the script, looking for the signal, "Mary," but it came no more in that act. They went all over it again, and she managed it without a hitch. Then they were dismissed until two o'clock, and every one hurried off for lunch.

Isabelle waited, thinking that of course Cartel would ask her to lunch with him. But there were no signs of him. She inquired where his office was, and ascended the stairs with the intention of expressing her dissatisfaction with her part. She stopped outside the door at the sound of voices--Cartel's and Wally's. She went in.

"Well!" exploded her father, "so there you are!"

"Good morning, Wally. Max wired you?"

"She did. You will come home with me at once."

"There is no need of our boring Mr. Cartel with our family rows," she said, sweetly. "I have no intention of going anywhere with you. I've decided upon a stage career, and I'm rehearsing with Mr. Cartel now."

The manager stifled a smile.

"You're not of age, young woman, and you can be _made_ to do things!"

said Wally.

"Take it to law, you mean? Jail and all that? Public announcement that you and Max can't manage me? Stupid, Wally, very stupid."

"You're not through with your education. It will be time enough to decide on a career when you finish school."

"I have finished school. That I am determined upon. You may as well face it, Wally. I am on the stage, and I intend to stay on it."

"Look here, Bryce, take a word of advice from me. I meet this every day.

Girls get this germ, and my experience is that it's better to let the disease run its course. If you force her to go back to school, she has a grievance for life. If she goes back of her own accord, she's cured."

"It's ridiculous! We'd be the laughing stock of the town!"

"Oh, no; it happens in the best families. Believe me, it is not such bad training for young women who have never been disciplined--like your daughter. She'll get it, in this business. She'll learn to obey orders and to respect authority."

"But she's struck on herself now, and if she goes on the stage----"

"Don't bother; we'll take that out of her," remarked Cartel.

Wally looked from Isabelle's set face to the manager's smiling one.

"What is your idea?" he asked.

"Let her try it. Let her live at home. Send her back and forth in your car; protect her, of course. But let her have her fling; it won't take long," said Cartel, with a wise nod at Wally.

"Try it, Wally, just give me a chance," cried the near actress.

"Your mother will raise the roof!" he began.

"She'll come round, if you back me up."

"I don't know," he said, miserably.

Isabelle flew at him and hugged him wildly.

"Oh, Wally, you're a dear," she cried, thus committing him to partners.h.i.+p.

"We needn't treat Cartel to our family reconciliations," he said.

"Come take me to lunch, then. I have to be back at two. That isn't much of a part," she added to Cartel.

"No? Well, we all must begin, you know. That is the first blow to young ladies of your proclivities."

He rose, and bowed them out, as sign of dismissal. Wally and Isabelle went to lunch, and it took them so long to work out their plans--where Isabelle was to stay at present, how the matter was to be presented to Max, and such weighty subjects--that Isabelle was late to rehearsal, and was sharply reprimanded.

She felt this to be very unjust as her line did not come for a long time. At the end of a long, tedious day, she went home to dine in lonely state with the caretaker as cook, and to crawl into bed immediately thereafter.

Wally managed the situation very well. He made Max see the futility of fighting their child; he a.s.sured her that Cartel promised that the seizure would be brief. He looked up old Miss Watts, and engaged her to act as companion to the girl, accompanying her to all rehearsals. They were to live in a suite of rooms, opened for them in the house, with the caretaker providing their meals.

It was all satisfactory to Isabelle. She remembered Miss Watts with pleasure, and she proved an un.o.bjectionable companion. She took a book and read during rehearsals. She seemed interested in Isabelle's future.

The career was not exciting so far. The first real event was the day Cartel came to rehearsal. Everybody was on tiptoe with excitement. The stupid, mumbling thing they called the play suddenly took shape, and point, and brilliancy. It infuriated Isabelle that her only chance lay in a vagrant, unimportant line here and there, when she knew she could play the lead, Mrs. Horton, with a dash and distinction totally lacking in the performance of the actress who was to play it.

She told Cartel so, on one of the infrequent occasions when she saw him to talk to. He laughed.

"The nerve of you kids!" he said. "You think the Lord has made you an actress, don't you? All you need is a chance at a leading part, in order to startle New York!"

Isabelle tried to reply, but he swept on.

"This is an Art; you want to desecrate a great, important Art! It takes long years of preparation, hard labour, infinite patience, aching disappointment; it takes brain, and pa.s.sion, and intelligence to make an actor. Now where do you come in?"