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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:35 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:35 -0700 |
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diff --git a/28492-h/28492-h.htm b/28492-h/28492-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbdc0c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/28492-h/28492-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7560 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Light of the Star", by Hamlin Garland. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .tnote {margin: 2em 5% 1em 5%; font-size: 90%; padding: 0.5em 1em 0.5em 1em; + border: solid 1px silver; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Light of the Star, by Hamlin Garland + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Light of the Star + A Novel + +Author: Hamlin Garland + +Release Date: April 4, 2009 [EBook #28492] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHT OF THE STAR *** + + + + +Produced by David Yingling, Matt Whittaker, Bethanne M. +Simms, David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="tnote"><p>Transcriber's Note: Typo "gantlet" was replaced with "gauntlet" but +all other spelling was retained as it appeared in the original text.</p></div> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 640px;"> +<img src="images/front-1.png" width="455" height="700" alt=""HE WAS A NOTICEABLY HANDSOME FIGURE AS HE SAT +ALONE IN THE BOX" + +[See p. 31" title="" /> +<p>"HE WAS A NOTICEABLY HANDSOME FIGURE AS HE SAT +ALONE IN THE BOX"</p> + +<p><a href="#Page_31">[<i>See p. 31</i></a></p> +</div> + + +<h1>THE</h1> + +<h1>LIGHT OF THE STAR</h1> + + +<h4>A Novel</h4> + + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>HAMLIN GARLAND</h2> + +<h4>AUTHOR OF "HESPER"</h4> + +<h4>"THE CAPTAIN OF THE GRAY-HORSE TROOP"</h4> + +<h4>ETC. ETC.</h4> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h4>NEW YORK AND LONDON</h4> + +<h4>HARPER & BROTHERS</h4> + +<h4>PUBLISHERS :: MCMIV</h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>THE LIGHT OF THE STAR</h3> + + +<h4>Published May, 1904.</h4> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LIGHT OF THE STAR</h2> + + + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/005-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">FTER</span> the appointment with +Miss Merival reached him +(through the hand of her manager), +young Douglass grew +feverishly impatient of the long +days which lay between. Waiting became a +species of heroism. Each morning he reread +his manuscript and each evening found him +at the theatre, partly to while away the time, +but mainly in order that he might catch some +clew to the real woman behind the shining +mask. His brain was filled with the light +of the star—her radiance dazzled him.</p> + +<p>By day he walked the streets, seeing her +name on every bill-board, catching the glow +of her subtle and changeful beauty in every +window. She gazed out at him from brows +weary with splendid barbaric jewels, her eyes +bitter and disdainful, and hopelessly sad. +She smiled at him in framework of blue and +ermine and pearls—the bedecked, heartless +coquette of the pleasure-seeking world. She +stood in the shadow of gray walls, a grating +over her head, with deep, soulful, girlish eyes +lifted in piteous appeal; and in each of these +characters an unfathomed depth remained +to vex and to allure him.</p> + +<p>Magnified by these reflections on the walls, +haloed by the teeming praise and censure of +the press, she seemed to dominate the entire +city as she had come to absorb the best of his +own life. What her private character really +was no one seemed to know, in spite of the +special articles and interviews with her managers +which fed the almost universal adulation +of her dark and changeful face, her savage +and sovereign beauty. There was insolence in +her tread, and mad allurement in the rounded +beauty of her powerful white arm—and at his +weakest the young playwright admitted that +all else concerning her was of no account.</p> + +<p>At the same time he insisted that he was +not involved with the woman—only with +the actress. "I am not a lover—I am a playwright, +eager to have my heroine adequately +portrayed," he contended with himself in the +solitude of his room, high in one of the great +apartment buildings of the middle city. Nevertheless, +the tremor in his nerves caused him +thought.</p> + +<p>Her voice. Yes, that, too, was mysterious. +Whence came that undertone like the moan +of a weary wastrel tortured with dreams of +idyllic innocence long lost? Why did her utterance, +like her glorious face, always suggest +some inner, darker meaning? There were +times when she seemed old—old as vice and +cruelty, hoarse with complaints, with curses, +and then again her lips were childishly sweet, +and her voice carried only the wistful accents +of adolescence or the melody of girlish awe.</p> + +<p>On the night before his appointment she +played <i>The Baroness Telka</i>, a lurid, lustful, +remorseless woman—a creature with a vampire's +heart and the glamour of Helen of Troy—a +woman whose cheeks were still round and +smooth, but whose eyes were alight with the +flame of insanity—a frightful, hungry, soulless +wretch. And as he sat at the play and +watched that glittering, inexplicable woman, +and thought of her rôles, Douglass asked himself: +"How will she meet me to-morrow? What +will be the light in her eyes when she turns +them upon me? Will she meet me alone—haughty, +weary with praise, or will she be +surrounded by those who bow to her as to a +queen?" This latter thing he feared.</p> + +<p>He had not been without experience with +women—even with actresses; but no woman +he had ever met had appealed to his imagination +beyond the first meeting. Would it be +so with Helen Merival? He had loved twice +in his life, but not well enough to say so to +either of his sweethearts. Around Myra's +name clung the perfume and moonlight of +summer evenings in the far-off mid-continent +village where he was born, while Violet recalled +the music, the comfort, and the security +of a beautiful Eastern home. Neither of these +sweet and lovely girls had won his heart completely. +How was it that this woman of the +blazoning bill-boards had already put more +of passion into his heart than they of the +pure and sheltered life?</p> + +<p>He did not deceive himself. It was because +Helen could not be understood at a glance. +She appealed to his imagination as some +strange bird—alien voyager—fled from distant +islands in dim, purple seas. She typed +the dreams of adventuring youth seeking the +princesses of other and more romantic lands.</p> + +<p>At times he shuddered with a fear that +some hidden decay of Helen Merival's own +soul enabled her to so horrify her audience +with these desolating rôles, and when the curtain +fell on <i>The Baroness</i>, he was resolved to +put aside the chance of meeting the actress. +Was it worth while to be made ashamed and +bitter? She might stand revealed as a coarse +and selfish courtesan—a worn and haggard +enchantress whose failing life blazed back to +youth only when on the stage. Why be disenchanted? +But in the end he rose above +this boyish doubt. "What does it matter +whether she be true or false? She has genius, +and genius I need for my play—genius and +power," and in the delusion he rested.</p> + +<p>He climbed to his den in the tower as physically +wearied as one exhausted with running +a race, and fell asleep with his eyelids fluttering +in a feverish dream.</p> + +<p>The hour of his appointment with her fell +upon Sunday, and as he walked up the street +towards her hotel the bells in a church on a +side street were ringing, and their chimes filled +his mind with memories of the small town from +which he came. How peaceful and sweet the +life of Woodstock seemed now. The little +meeting-house, whose shingled spire still pointed +at the stars, would always be sweet with the +memory of Myra Thurber, whose timid clasp +upon his arm troubled him then and pained +him now. He had so little to give in return for +her devotion—therefore he had given nothing. +He had said good-bye almost harshly—his +ambition hardening his heart to her appeal.</p> + +<p>Around him, in his dream of those far-off +days, moved other agile forms—young lovers +like Myra and himself, their feet creaking on +the glittering snow. They stepped slowly, +though the bells called and called. The +moonlight was not more clear and untouched +of baleful fire than Myra's sweet eyes looking +up at him, and now he was walking the wet +pavement of the great metropolis, with the +clang and grind of cars all about him, on his +way to meet a woman whose life was spent in +simulating acts as destructive as Myra's had +been serene and trustful. At the moment he +saw his own life as a thread in some mysterious +drama.</p> + +<p>"To what does it lead?" he asked, as he +drew under the overhanging portal of the +great hotel where the star made her home. +It was to the man of the West a splendid place. +Its builders had been lavish of highly colored +marbles and mosaics, spendthrift of light and +gilding; on every side shone the signs and +seals of predatory wealth. Its walls were like +costly confectionery, its ornaments insolent, +its waste criminal. Every decorative feature +was hot, restless, irreverent, and cruel, quite +the sort of avenue one might expect to find +in his walk towards the glittering woman of +the false and ribald drama.</p> + +<p>"She chose her abode with instinctive bad +taste," he said, bitterly; and again his weakness, +his folly turned him cold; for with all his +physical powers he was shy to the point of fear.</p> + +<p>He made a sober and singular spot in the +blaze of the rotunda. So sombre was his look, +so intent his gaze. Youths in high hats and +shining shirt-fronts stood in groups conversing +loudly, and in the resplendent dining-hall +bediamonded women and their sleek-haired, +heavy-jewelled partners were eating leisurely, +attended by swarms of waiters so eager they +trod upon one another's feet.</p> + +<p>The clerk eyed him in impassible silence as +he took out his worn card-case, saying: "Please +send my card to Miss Merival."</p> + +<p>"Miss Merival is not receiving any one this +evening," the clerk answered, with a tone which +was like the slap of a wet glove in the face.</p> + +<p>Douglass faced him with a look which made +him reflect. "You will let her be the judge +of that," he said, and his tone was that of one +accustomed to be obeyed.</p> + +<p>The little man bowed. "Oh, certainly, Mr. +Douglass, but as she left orders—"</p> + +<p>When the boy with his card had disappeared +into the candy-colored distances, the playwright +found himself again studying the face +of his incomprehensible sorceress, who looked +down upon him even at that moment from a +bulletin-board on the hotel wall, Oriental, savage, +and sullen—sad, too, as though alone +in her solitary splendor. "She can't be all of +her parts—which one of them will I find as I +enter her room?" he asked himself for the +hundredth time.</p> + +<p>"Miss Merival will see Mr. Douglass," said +the bell-boy. "This way, sir."</p> + +<p>As he stepped into the elevator the young +man's face grew stern and his lips straightened +out into a grim line. It was absurd to think he +should be so deeply moved by any woman alive, +he who prided himself on his self-possession.</p> + +<p>Down a long hall on the tenth floor the boy +led him, and tapped at a door, which was +opened after a pause by a quiet woman who +greeted him with outstretched hand, kindly +cordial.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, Mr. Douglass? It is very +good of you to come," she said, with the simplest +inflection.</p> + +<p>"This must be an elder sister," he thought, +and followed her into a large sitting-room, +where a gray-haired woman and a young man +were sipping after-dinner coffee.</p> + +<p>"Mother, this is Mr. Douglass, the author +of <i>The Modern Stage</i>, the little book of essays +we liked so well." The elderly lady greeted +him cordially, but with a timid air. "And +this is my brother Hugh," the young man +gave Douglass's hand a firm and cordial grip.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, please—not there—over here, +where the light will fall on you. I want to +see how you look," she added, in smiling candor; +and with that smile he recognized in his +hostess the great actress.</p> + +<p>He was fairly dazed, and for the moment +entirely wordless. From the very moment the +door had opened to him the "glittering woman" +had been receding into remote and ever +remoter distances, for the Helen Merival before +him was as simple, candid, and cordial as his +own sister. Her voice had the home inflection; +she displayed neither paint nor powder; +her hair was plainly brushed—beautiful hair +it was, too—and her dress was lovely and in +quiet taste.</p> + +<p>Her face seemed plain at first, just as her +stature seemed small. She was dark, but not +so dark as she appeared on the stage, and her +face was thinner, a little careworn, it seemed +to him; and her eyes—"those leering, wicked +eyes"—were large and deep and soft. Her +figure was firm, compact, womanly, and modest +in every line. No wife could have seemed +more of the home than this famous actress +who faced him with hands folded in her lap.</p> + +<p>He was stupefied. Suddenly he perceived +the injustice and the crass folly of his estimate +of her character, and with this perception +came a broader and deeper realization of +her greatness as an actress. Her real self +now became more complex than his wildest +imagined ideal of her. That this sweet and +reflective girl should be the actress was as +difficult to understand as that <i>The Baroness</i> +should be at heart a good woman. For five +minutes he hardly heard what she said, so +busy was his mind readjusting itself to this +abrupt displacement of values. With noiseless +suddenness all the lurid light which the +advertiser had thrown around the star died +away. The faces which mocked and mourned, +the clutching hands, the lines of barbaric ornaments, +the golden goblets of debauchery, +the jewelled daggers, the poison phials—all +those accessories, designed to produce the +siren of the posters, faded out, and he found +himself face to face with a human being like +himself, a thoughtful, self-contained, and +rather serious American girl of twenty-six or +twenty-eight years of age.</p> + +<p>Not merely this, but her attitude towards +him was that of a pupil. She lifted eyes to +him as to one occupying an intellectual height. +She began to tell him how much she enjoyed +his little book on the drama, which a friend +had recommended to her, but as soon as he +had fairly recovered himself he led her away +from his own work. "I am supposed to be +an architect," he explained. "I write of the +stage because I love it—and because I am a +failure in my profession. My book is a very +slight and unambitious attempt."</p> + +<p>"But you know the stage and its principles," +she insisted; "and your view of the future +is an inspiration to those of us who wish +to do good work. Your letter was very helpful +to me, for I am deeply discouraged just +now. I am disgusted with the drama in +which I work. I am weary of these unwholesome +parts. You are quite right, I shall never +do my best work so long as I am forced to +assume such uncongenial rôles. They are all +false, every one of them. They are good acting +rôles, as acting goes; but I want plays that +I can live as well as act. But my manager +tells me that the public will not have me in +anything else. Do you think they would? +Is he right?" She ended in appeal.</p> + +<p>"I think the public will take you at your +best in anything you do," he replied, with +grave gallantry. "I don't know that managers +are omniscient. They are only men like +the rest of us."</p> + +<p>She smiled. "That is high treason; but +I'm very much inclined to believe it is true. +I am willing to concede that a theatre must +be made to pay, but I am not content to think +that this splendid art is always to be measured +by the number of dollars which fall into the +box-office. Take Westervelt as a type. What +ideals has he? None whatever, save to find a +play that will run forever and advertise itself."</p> + +<p>She had dreams, too, it seemed. She +glowed with her plans, and as she timidly presented +them Douglass perceived that the +woman was entirely unconscious of the false +glamour, the whirling light and tumult, which +outsiders connected with her name. At the +centre of the illumination she sat looking out +upon the glorified bill-boards, the gay shop +windows, the crowded auditoriums, a wholesome, +kindly, intelligent woman, subject to +moods of discouragement like himself, unwilling +to be a slave to a money-grubber. +Something in his face encouraged the story +of her struggles. She passed to her personal +history while he listened as one enthralled.</p> + +<p>The actress fled, and the woman drew near. +She looked into the man's eyes frankly, unshrinkingly, +with humor, with appeal. She +leaned towards him, and her face grew exquisitely +tender and beautiful. "Oh, it was +a struggle! Mother kept boarders in order +that Hugh and I might go to school—didn't +you, dear old muz?" She laid her hand on +her mother's knee, and the mother clasped it. +"Father's health grew worse and worse, and +at last he died, and then I had to leave school +to help earn our living. I began to read for +entertainments of various sorts. Father was +a Grand Army man, and the posts took an +interest in my reading. I really earned a +thousand dollars the second year. I doubled +that the next year, and considered myself a +great public success." She smiled. "Mother, +may I let Mr. Douglass see how I looked then?"</p> + +<p>The mother nodded consent, and the great +actress, after a few moments' search, returned +with a package of circulars, each bearing a +piquant, girlish face.</p> + +<p>"There," she said, as she handed them to +Douglass, "I felt the full ecstasy of power +when that picture was taken. In this I wore +a new gown and a new hat, and I was earning +fifty dollars at each reading. My success +fairly bewildered me; but oh, wasn't it glorious! +I took mother out of a tenement and +put her in a lovely little home. I sent Hugh +to college. I refurnished the house. I bought +pictures and rugs, for you know I continued to +earn over two thousand a year. And what +fun we had in spending all that money!"</p> + +<p>"But how did you reach the stage?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>She laughed. "By way of 'the Kerosene +circuit,' if you know what that means."</p> + +<p>"I've heard the phrase," he answered; "it +corresponds to the old-time 'barn-storming,' +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"It does."</p> + +<p>Hugh interposed. "I wouldn't go into that, +sis."</p> + +<p>"Why not? It's great fun—now. I used +to think it pretty tragic sometimes. Yes, I +was nineteen when I went on the New England +rural circuit—to give it a better name. +Oh, I've been through all the steps! As soon +as I felt a little secure about mother, I ventured +to New York in answer to advertisements +in <i>The Reflector</i>, and went out 'on the +road' at 'fifteen per.'" These slang phrases +seemed humorous as they came from her +smiling lips, but Douglass knew some little +part of the toil and discomfort they stood for.</p> + +<p>Her eyes danced with fun. "I played <i>The +Lady of Lyons</i> in a 'kitchen set,' and the +death-scene in <i>East Lynne</i> before a 'wood +drop.' And my costumes were something +marvellous, weren't they, mother? Well, this +lasted two seasons—summer seasons; while +I continued to read in winter in order to indulge +my passion for the stage in summer +and early autumn. Then I secured a small +part in a real company, and at a salary that +permitted me to send some money home. I +knocked about the country this way two seasons +more—that makes me twenty-two. I +knew the office of every manager in New +York by this time, but had been able to reach +an audience with but one or two. They were +kind enough, but failed to 'see anything' in +me, as the phrase goes; and I was quite disheartened. +Oh, 'the Rialto'!" Her face clouded +and her voice softened. "It is a brilliant +and amusing place to the successful, but to +the girl who walks it seeking a theatrical engagement +it is a heartless and cruel place. +You can see them there to-day—girls eager +and earnest and ready to work hard and conscientiously—haunting +the agencies and the +anterooms of the managers just as I did in +those days—only five years ago."</p> + +<p>"It seems incredible," exclaimed Douglass. +"I thought you came here from a London +success."</p> + +<p>"So I did, and that is the miraculous chapter +of my story. I went to London with Farnum—with +only a little part—but McLennan +saw me and liked my work, and asked me to +take the American adventuress in his new +play. And then—my fortune was made. The +play was only a partial success, but my own +position was established. I continued to play +the gay and evil-minded French and Russian +woman of the English stage till I was tired of +them. Then I tried <i>Joan of Arc</i> and <i>Charlotte +Corday</i>. The public forced me back to <i>The +Baroness Telka</i>, and to wealth and great fame; +and then I read your little book, which seemed +directed straight to me, and I asked Hugh to +write you—now you have the 'story of me life.' +I have had no struggle since—only hard work +and great acclaim." She faced her mother +with a proud smile. Then her face darkened. +"But—there is always a but—I want New +York to know me in some better way. I'm +tired of these women with cigarettes and +spangled dinner-gowns."</p> + +<p>She laid her hand again on her mother's +knee, and the gentle old fingers closed around +the firm, smooth wrist.</p> + +<p>"I've told mother that I will cut these rôles +out. We are at last in a position to do as we +please. I am now waiting for something +worth while to come to me. That is my present +situation, Mr. Douglass. I don't know +why I've been so frank. Now let me hear +your play."</p> + +<p>He flushed a little. "To tell the truth, I +find it rather hard to begin. I feel as though +I were re-enacting a worn-out scene in some +way. Every other man in the car writes plays +nowadays and torments his friends by reading +to them, which, I admit, is an abominable practice. +However, as I came here for that express +purpose, I will at least outline my scenario."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you bring the play itself?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but, really, I hesitate. It may bore +you to death."</p> + +<p>"You could not write a play that would +bore me—I am sure of that."</p> + +<p>"Very well," he soberly answered, and drew +forth his manuscript. As if upon signal, the +mother and her son rose to withdraw. "You +are entirely justified," said Douglass, with some +humor. "I quite understand your feelings."</p> + +<p>"We should like very much to hear it, +but—"</p> + +<p>"No excuses, I beg of you. I wonder at +Miss Merival's hardihood. I am quite sure +she will live to repent her temerity."</p> + +<p>In this spirit of banter the playwright and +the star were left alone with the manuscript +of the play. As he read on, Douglass was +carried out of his own impassivity by the +changes in the face before him. It became +once more elusive, duskily mysterious in its +lines. A reflective shadow darkened the +glorious eyes, veiled by drooping lids. Without +knowing it, the actress took on from moment +to moment the heart-trials of the woman +of the play. In a subconscious way even +as he read, Douglass analyzed and understood +her power. Hers was a soul of swift +and subtle sympathy. A word, a mere inflection, +was sufficient to set in motion the most +complicate and obscure conceptions in her +brain, permitting her to comprehend with +equal clarity the Egyptian queen of pleasure +and the austere devotee to whom joy is a +snare. From time to time she uttered little +exclamations of pleasure, and at the end of +each act motioned him to proceed, as if eager +to get a unified impression.</p> + +<p>It was after eleven o'clock when he threw +down the manuscript, and, white with emotion, +awaited her verdict. She was tense with +the strain, and her lashes were wet with tears, +but her eyes were bright and her mind alert. +She had already entered upon a new part, +having been swept up into a region of resolution +as far away from the pleasant hostess +as from the heartless adventuress whose garments +she had worn but the night before. +With hands clasped between her knees, and +shoulders laxly drooping, she brooded on the +sorrows of his mimic world.</p> + +<p>"I will do your play," she said at last. "I +will do it because I believe in its method and because +I think it worthy of my highest powers."</p> + +<p>The blood rushed to the playwright's throat +and a smarting heat dimmed his eyes. He +spoke with difficulty. "I thank you," he +said, hoarsely. "It is more than I expected; +and now that you have promised to do it, I +feel you ought not to take the risk." He +could say no more, overcome by the cordial +emphasis of her decision.</p> + +<p>"There is a risk, I will be frank with you; +but your play is worth it. I have not been +so powerfully moved in years. You have +thrilled me. Really I cannot tell you how +deeply your theme has sunk into my heart. +You have the Northern conscience—so have +I; that is why I rebel at being merely the +plaything of a careless public. Yes, I will do +your play. It is a work of genius. I hope you +wrote it in a garret. It's the kind of thing to +come from a diet of black bread and water."</p> + +<p>He smiled. "I live in a sort of garret, and +my meals are frequently beans and brown +bread. I hope that will do."</p> + +<p>"I am glad the bread is at least brown.... +But you are tired. Leave the manuscript +with me." He rose and she moved towards +him with a gesture of confidence which made +words impossible to him. "When we meet +again I want you to tell me something of +yourself.... Good-night. You will hear from +me soon." She was regal as she said this—regal +in her own proper person, and he went away +rapt with wonder and admiration of the real +Helen Merival as she now stood revealed to +him.</p> + +<p>"She is greater than my dreams of her," he +said, in a sort of rapture as he walked the +street. "She is greater than she herself can +know; for her genius is of the subtle, unspeakable +deeps—below her own consciousness, beyond +her own analysis. How much greater +her art seems, now that I have seen her. It is +marvellous! She will do my play, and she +will succeed—her power as an actress would +carry it to a success if it were a bad play, which +it is not. My day has dawned at last."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Helen went to bed that night with a consciousness +that something new and powerful +had come into her life. Not merely the play +and her determination to do it moved her—the +man himself profoundly impressed her. +His seriousness, his decision and directness of +utterance, and the idealism which shone from +his rugged, boyish face remained with her to +the verge of sleep. He was very handsome, +and his voice singularly beautiful, but his +power to charm lay over and beyond these. +His sincere eyes, his freedom from flippant +slang, these impressed her with a sense of his +reliability, his moral worth.</p> + +<p>"He is stern and harsh, but he is fine," she +said to her mother next morning, "and his +play is very strong. I am going to do it. +You will like the part of <i>Lillian</i>. It has the +Scotch sense of moral responsibility in it."</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/031-cap.png" alt="D" title="D" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">OUGLASS</span> rose next morning +with a bound, as if life had +somehow become surcharged +with fresh significance, fresh +opportunity. His professional +career seemed dull and prosaic—his critical +work of small avail. His whole mind centred +on his play.</p> + +<p>His was a moody, sensitive nature. Stern +as he looked, and strong as he really was, he +could be depressed by a trifle or exalted by a +word. And reviewing his meeting with Helen +in the light of the morning, he had more than a +suspicion that he had allowed himself to talk +too freely in the presence of the brother and +mother, and that he had been over-enthusiastic, +not to say egotistic; but he was saved +from dejection by the memory of the star's +great, brown-black eyes. There was no pretence +in them. She had been rapt—carried +out of conventional words and graces by something +which rose from the lines he had written, +the characters he had depicted.</p> + +<p>The deeper his scrutiny went the more important +she became to him. She was not simple—she +was very complex, and an artist of +wonderful range, and certainty of appeal. He +liked the plain and simple (almost angular) +gestures and attitudes she used when talking +to him. They were so broadly indicative of +the real Helen Merival, and so far from the +affectations he had expected to see. Of course, +she was the actress—the mobility of her face, +her command of herself, was far beyond that of +any untrained woman, no matter how versatile; +but she was nobly the actress, broadened +and deepened by her art.</p> + +<p>He was very eager to see her again, and as +the day wore on this desire grew to be an ache +at his heart most disturbing. He became very +restless at last, and did little but walk around +the park, returning occasionally as the hour +for the postman came. "I don't know why I +should expect a letter from her. I know well +the dilatory methods of theatrical people—and +to-day is rehearsal, too. I am unreasonable. +If I hear from her in a week I may +count myself lucky."</p> + +<p>A message from the dramatic editor of <i>The +Blazon</i>, asking him to do a special study of an +English actor opening that night at the Broadway, +annoyed him. "I can't do it," he answered. +"I have another engagement." And +recklessly put aside the opportunity to earn a +week's board, so exalted was he by reason of +the word of the woman.</p> + +<p>At dinner he lacked appetite entirely, and +as he had taken but an egg and a cup of coffee +for breakfast, and had missed luncheon altogether, +he began to question himself as to the +meaning of his ailment, with sad attempt at +humor. "It isn't exactly as serious as dying. +Even if she reconsiders and returns my play, +I can still make a living." He would not admit +that any other motive was involved.</p> + +<p>He had barely returned to his room before +a knock at the door announced a boy with a +note. As he took it in his hand his nerves +tingled as though he had touched the wondrous +woman's hand. The note was brief, yet +fateful:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I enclose a ticket for the manager's box. +I hope you can come. I want to talk about +your play. I will send my brother to bring +you in back to see me. I have been rehearsing +all the afternoon, but I re-read the play +this morning while in bed. I like it better +and better, but you can do more with it—I +feel that you have suppressed the poetry here +and there. My quarrel with you realists is +that you are afraid to put into your representations +of life the emotions that make life a +dynamic thing. But it is stirring and suggestive +as it is. Come in and talk with me, for +I am full of it and see great possibilities in +the final act."</p></div> + +<p>His hands were tremulous and his eyes +glowing as he put the note down and faced +himself in the glass. The pleasure of meeting +her again under such conditions made him +forget, for the moment, the rôle she was to +play—a part he particularly detested. Truly +he was the most fortunate and distinguished +of men—to be thus taken by the hand and +lifted from nameless obscurity to the most +desired position beside a great star.</p> + +<p>He dressed with unusual care, and was a +<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">noticeably handsome figure</a> as he sat alone +in the box; and elated, tense, self-conscious. +When she came on and walked close down to +the foot-lights nearest him, flashing a glance +of recognition into his eyes, his breath quickened +and his face flushed. A swift interchange +of light and fire took place at the moment, +her eyelids fell. She recoiled as if in +dismay, then turned and apparently forgot +him and every one else in the fervor of her +art.</p> + +<p>A transforming readjustment of all the lines +of her face took place. She became sinister, +mocking, and pitiless. An exultant cruelty +croaked in her voice. Minute, repulsive remodellings +of her neck and cheeks changed her +to a harpy, and seeing these evidences of her +great genius Douglass grew bitterly resentful, +and when she laughed, with the action of a +vulture thrusting her head forward from the +shoulders, he sickened and turned away. It +was marvellous work, but how desecrating +to her glorious womanhood. Coming so close +on that moment of mystic tenderness it was +horrible. "My God! She must not play such +parts. They will leave their mark upon her."</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell he did not applaud, +but drew back into the shadow, sullen, brooding, +sorrowful. In the tableau which followed +the recall, her eyes again sought for him +(though she still moved in character), and +the curtain fell upon the scene while yet she +was seeking him.</p> + +<p>Here now began a transformation in the +man. He had come to the theatre tremulous +with eagerness to look upon her face, to touch +her hand, but when her brother entered the +box, saying, "Mr. Douglass, this is the best +time to see my sister," he rose slowly with a +curious reluctance.</p> + +<p>Through devious passages beneath the theatre, +Hugh led the way, while with greater poignancy +than ever before the young playwright +sensed the vulgarity, the immodesty, and the +dirt of the world behind and below the scenes. +It was all familiar enough to him, for he had +several friends among the actors, but the +thought of one so sovereign as Helen in the +midst of a region so squalid stung him. He +was jealous of the actors, the scene-shifters, +who were permitted to see her come and go.</p> + +<p>He was reserved and rather pale, but perfectly +self-contained, as he entered the little +reception-hall leading to her dressing-room. +He faced her with a sense of dread—apprehensive +of some disenchantment. She met him +cordially, without the slightest reference to +her make-up, which was less offensive than +he had feared; but he winced, nevertheless, at +the vulgarity of her part so skilfully suggested +by paint and powder. She gave him her hand +with a frank gesture. "You didn't applaud +my scenes to-night," she said, with a smile as +enigmatic as the one she used in <i>The Baroness</i>.</p> + +<p>His voice was curt with emotion as he replied, +"No, I did not; I couldn't. They saddened +me."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" she asked, with a +startled, anxious paling beneath her rouge.</p> + +<p>His voice was low, but fiercely reproachful +in answer. "I mean you should treat your +beautiful self and your splendid art with +greater consideration."</p> + +<p>"You mean I should not be playing such +women? I know it—I hate them. But no one +ever accused me of taking my art lightly. I +work harder on these uncongenial rôles than +upon any other. They require infinitely +more effort, because I loathe them so."</p> + +<p>"I mean more than that. I am afraid to +have you simulate such passions. They will +leave their mark on you. It is defilement. +Your womanhood is too fine, too beautiful to +be so degraded."</p> + +<p>She put her hand to her bosom and looked +about her restlessly. His intensity scared her. +"I know what you mean, but let us not talk +of that now; let us discuss your play. I want +to suggest something for your third act, but I +must dress now. You will wait, won't you? +We will have a few minutes before I go on. +Please sit here and wait for me."</p> + +<p>He acquiesced silently, as was his fashion. +There was little of the courtier about him, but +he became very ill at ease as he realized how +significant his waiting must seem to those who +saw him there. Deeply in the snare as he was, +this sitting beside an actress's dressing-room +door became intolerable to his arrogant soul, +and he was about to flee when Hugh came +back and engaged him in conversation. So +gratified was Douglass for this kindness, he +made himself agreeable till such time as +Helen, in brilliant evening-dress, came out; +and when Hugh left them together he was +less assertive and brusque in manner.</p> + +<p>She was so luminous, so queenly, she dissipated +his cloud of doubts and scruples, and +the tremor of the boyish lover came back into +his limbs as he turned to meet her. His voice +all but failed him as he answered to her question.</p> + +<p>For some ten minutes from behind her mask +she talked of the play with enthusiasm—her +sweet eyes untouched of the part she was +about to resume. At last she said: "There is +my cue. Good-bye! Can you breakfast with +us to-morrow, at eleven-thirty? It's really a +luncheon. I know you are an early riser; but +we will have something substantial. Will +you come?"</p> + +<p>Her smooth, strong fingers closed cordially +on his hand as she spoke, and he answered, +quickly, "With the greatest pleasure in the +world."</p> + +<p>"We can talk at our leisure then. Good-bye!" +and as she opened the canvas door in +the "box-scene" he heard her say, with high, +cool, insulting voice, "Ah, my dear Countess, +you are early." She was <i>The Baroness</i> again. +After the fall of the curtain at the end, Douglass +slipped out upon the pavement, his eyes +blinded by the radiant picture she made in +her splendid bridal robes. It was desolating +to see her represent such a rôle, such agony, +such despair; and yet his feet were reluctant +to carry him away.</p> + +<p>He was like a famishing man, who has been +politely turned from the glittering, savory +dining-room into the street—only his hunger, +immaterial as light, was a thousand times +keener than that of the one who lacks only +bread and meat. He demanded her face, her +voice, as one calls for sunlight, for air. He +knew that this day, this night, marked a new +era in his life. Old things were passed away—new +things, sweet, incredible things, were +now happening.</p> + +<p>Nothing like this unrest and deep-seated +desire had ever come into his life, and the +realization troubled him as a dangerous weakness. +It enslaved him, and he resented it. +He secured a new view on his play, also, with +its accusing defiance of dramatic law and custom. +In this moment of clear vision he was +permitted a prevision of Helen struggling with +the rebellious critics. Now that he had twice +taken her hand he was no longer so indifferent +to the warfare of the critics, though he knew +they could not harm one so powerful as she.</p> + +<p>In the end of his tumult he wrote her a letter, +wherein he began by begging her pardon for +seeming to interfere in the slightest degree +with her work in the world. His letter continued:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"I have back of me the conscience of my +Scotch forebears, and though my training +in college and in my office has covered my +conscience with a layer of office dust it is still +there. Of course (and obviously) you are not +touched by the words and deeds of the women +you represent, but I somehow feel that it is +a desecration of your face and voice to put +them to such uses. That is the reason I +dreaded to go back and see you to-night. If +you were seeking praise of your own proper +self, the sincerity of this compliment is unquestionable. +I ought to say, 'I hope my +words to-night did not disturb you,' but I will +not, for I hope to see you speedily drop all +such hideous characters as <i>The Baroness Telka</i>. +I felt as an artist might upon seeing a glorious +statue befouled with mire. I say this not because +I wish you to do <i>Lillian</i>. In the light +of last night's performance my own play is a +gray autumn day with a touch of frost in the +air. It is inconceivable that you should be +vitally interested in it. I fear no play that I +care to write will please a sufficient number +of people to make its production worth your +while. I release you from your promise. Believe +me, I am shaken in my confidence to-night. +Your audience seemed so heartless, +so debased of taste. They applauded most +loudly the things most revolting to me. Since +I have come to know you I cannot afford to +have you make a sacrifice of yourself to produce +my play, much as I desire to see you in +new characters."</p></div> + +<p>As he dropped this letter into the box a +storm-wave of his former bitterness and self-accusation +swept over him.</p> + +<p>"That ends another attempt to get my play +staged. Her manager will unquestionably +refuse to consider it."</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/045-cap.png" alt="H" title="H" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">ELEN</span> read Douglass's letter +next morning while still in bed, +and its forthright assault made +her shiver. She did not attempt +to deceive herself. She acknowledged +the singular power of this young man to +shake her, to change her course of action. From +the first she acknowledged something almost +terrifying in the appeal of his eyes, a power +which he seemed unconscious of. His words +of condemnation, of solicitude, troubled her as +the praise of no other man in all her life had +done. He had spoken to her soul, making her +triumph over the vast audience loathsome—almost +criminal.</p> + +<p>He was handsome—a manly man—but so +were dozens of others of her wide acquaintance. +His talent was undeniable, but he was still +obscure, undeveloped, a failure as an architect, +unambitious as a critic, though that was +his best point. His articles in <i>The Blazon</i> possessed +unusual insight and candor. Beyond +this she knew as little of him as of any other of +the young newspaper men who sought her acquaintance, +and yet he had somehow changed +her world for her in these two meetings.</p> + +<p>She let the letter fall on her breast, and lay +with her eyes fastened upon a big rose in a +pot on the window-sill—the gift of another +admirer. "I do know more of him. I know +that he is strong, sincere. He does not flatter +me—not even to win me to his play. He does +not hasten to send me flowers, and I like him +for that. If I were to take his point of view, +all my rôles and half my triumphs would +drop from me. But <i>is</i> there not a subtle +letting-down, a disintegration? May he not +be right, after all?"</p> + +<p>She went over once more the talk of the few +moments they had spent together, finding +each time in all his words less to criticise and +more to admire. "He does not conceal his +hate," she said; and she might have added, +"Or his love," for she was aware of her dominion, +and divined, though she did not +whisper it even to herself, that his change of +attitude with regard to her rôles came from +his change of feeling towards her. "He has a +great career. I will not allow him to spoil his +own future," she decided, at length, in her own +large-minded way. And there were sweet, +girlish lines about her mouth when her mother +came in to inquire how she felt.</p> + +<p>"Very much like work, mamma, and I'm +going to catch up on my correspondence. Mr. +Douglass is coming to take breakfast with us, to +talk about his play. I wish you would see that +there is something that a big man can eat."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The note she sent in answer to his was like +herself—firm, assured, but gentle:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Mr. Douglass</span>,—'What came you out for +to see—a reed shaken with the wind?' I +know my own mind, and I am not afraid of +my future. I should be sorry to fail, of course, +especially on your account, but a <i>succès d'estime</i> +is certain in your case, and my own personal +following is large enough—joined with +the actual lovers of good drama—to make +the play pay for itself. Please come to my +combination breakfast and luncheon, as you +promised, and we can arrange dates and other +details of the production, for my mind is made +up. I am going to do your play, come what +will. I thank you for having started all my +dormant resolutions into life again. I shall +expect you at twelve-thirty."</p></div> + +<p>Having despatched this note by special +messenger, she serenely set to work on less +important matters, and met him in modish +street dress—trim and neat and very far +from the meretricious glitter of <i>The Baroness</i>. +He was glad of this; he would have disliked +her in négligée, no matter how "artistic."</p> + +<p>Her greeting was frank and unstudied. +"I'm glad you've come. There are oceans of +things to talk over."</p> + +<p>"There was nothing else for me to do but +come," he replied, with a meaning light in his +eyes. "Your letter was a command."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry it takes a command to bring +you to breakfast with us. True, this is not +the breakfast to be given in your honor—that +will come later."</p> + +<p>"It would be safer to have it before the play +is produced," he replied, grimly.</p> + +<p>Helen turned to her brother. "Hugh, we +have in Mr. Douglass a man not sanguine of +the success of his play. What does that argue?"</p> + +<p>"A big hit!" he promptly replied.</p> + +<p>The servants came and went deftly, and +Douglass quite lost sight of the fact that +the breakfast-room was high in a tower-like +hotel, for Helen's long engagement in the city +had enabled her to make herself exceedingly +comfortable even amid the hectic color and +insistent gilt of the Hotel Embric. The +apartment not only received the sun, a royal +privilege in New York, but it was gay with +flowers, both potted and in vases, and the +walls were decorated with drawings of her +own choosing. Only the furniture remained +uncompromisingly of the hotel tone.</p> + +<p>"I did intend to refurnish, but mother, who +retains a little of her old Scotch training, +talked me out of it," Helen explained, in answer +to a query. "Is there anything more +hopelessly 'handsome' and shining than these +chairs? There's so little to find fault with, +and so little to really admire."</p> + +<p>"They're like a ready-made suit—unobjectionable, +but not fit."</p> + +<p>"They have no soul. How could they +have? They were made by machines for undistinguished +millions." She broke off this +discussion. "I am eager for a run through +the park. Won't you go? Hugh is my engineer. +Reckless as he looks, I find him quite +reliable as a tinker, and you know the auto is +still in the tinkery stage."</p> + +<p>"I have a feeling that it is still in the dangerous +stage," he said. "But I will go." He +said this in a tone of desperation which amused +them all very much.</p> + +<p>It was impossible for him to remain glum +in the midst of the good cheer of that luxurious +little breakfast with the promise of a ride +in the park in prospect. A few moments later +a young girl, Miss Fanny Cummings, came in +with a young man who looked like an actor, +but was, in fact, Hugh's college-mate and +"advance man" for Helen, and together they +went down to the auto-car.</p> + +<p>There was a well-defined sense of luxury in +being in Helen Merival's party. The attendants +in the hotel were so genuinely eager to +serve her, and the carefully considered comfort +of everything she possessed was very attractive +to a man like George Douglass, son +of a village doctor, who had toiled from childhood +to earn every dollar he spent. To ride +in such swift and shining state with any one +would have had extraordinary interest, and to +sit beside Helen in the comparative privacy +of the rear seat put a boyish glow of romance +into his heart. Her buoyant and sunny spirit +reacted on his moody and supersensitive nature +till his face shone with pleasure. He forgot +his bitter letter of the night before, and +for the moment work and worry were driven +from his world. He entered upon a dreamland—the +city of menace disappeared.</p> + +<p>The avenue was gay with promenaders and +thick with carriages. Other autos met them +with cordial clamor of gongs, and now and +then some driver more lawless than Hugh +dashed past them in reckless race towards +the park. The playwright had never seen so +many of New York's glittering carriages, and +the growing arrogance of its wealth took on +a new aspect from his newly acquired viewpoint. +Here were rapidly centring the great +leaders of art, of music, of finance. Here the +social climbers were clustering, eager to be +great in a city of greatness. Here the chief +ones in literature and the drama must come +as to a market-place, and with this thought +came a mighty uplift. "Surely success is +now mine," he thought, exultantly, "for here +I sit the favored dramatist of this wondrous +woman."</p> + +<p>There was little connected conversation—only +short volleys of jests as they whizzed +along the splendid drives of the park—but +Douglass needed little more than Helen's +shining face to put him at peace with all the +world. Each moment increased their intimacy.</p> + +<p>He told her of his stern old father, a country +doctor in the West, of the way in which +his brother and sisters were scattered from +North to South, and how he came to set +his face Eastward while all the others went +West.</p> + +<p>"How handsome he is," thought Helen.</p> + +<p>"How beautiful you are," his glances said +in answer, and both grew young beneath the +touch of love.</p> + +<p>When they were once more in the hotel +Helen cried out:</p> + +<p>"There! Isn't your brain washed clear of +all doubts? Come, let's to work at the play."</p> + +<p>He looked down at her with eyes whose +glow made her eyelids fall in maidenly defence. +"I am capable of anything you ask," +he said, with quiet power.</p> + +<p>After a long and spirited discussion of the +last act she said: "Well, now, we'll put it in +rehearsal as soon as you feel that it is ready. +I believe in doing a part while the spell of its +newness is on me. I shall put this on in place +of the revival of <i>Rachel Endicott</i>." She rose +on the wave of her enthusiasm. "I feel the +part taking hold of me. I will make <i>Lillian's +Duty</i> the greatest success of my life, and the +lion's share of both honor and money shall +be yours."</p> + +<p>He left the hotel quite as exalted as he had +been previously depressed. The pleasure of +sitting by her side for four blessed hours enriched +him to the point of being sorry for all +the rest of the world. The Prince of Wales +had been denied an introduction to her, he +had read; therefore the Prince was poor.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/056-cap.png" alt="T" title="T" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">HE</span> reading of the play took +place on the Monday morning +following, and was an exceedingly +formal and dignified function. +The principal players +came prepared to be politely interested, while +some of the lesser minds were actually curious +to taste the quality of the play as a piece +of writing.</p> + +<p>As there was no greenroom in the Westervelt, +the reading took place on the open +stage, which was bleak and draughty. The +company sat in a funereal semicircle, with the +author, the star, and the manager in a short +line facing them. All the men retained their +overcoats, for the morning was miserably +raw, and at Helen's positive command kept +their heads covered; and the supernumerary +women sat shivering in their jackets. Helen +was regal in a splendid cloak of sable, otherwise +there was little of the successful actress in +her dress. At her suggestion a box-scene was +set around them to keep off at least a part of +the draught, and under these depressing conditions +the reading proceeded.</p> + +<p>Douglass was visibly disheartened by the +surroundings, but set manfully to work, and +soon controlled the attention of all the players +except two, who made it a boast that they +had never read a play or listened to one. "I +am interested only in me lines, me boy," said +one of them.</p> + +<p>"And your acting shows it," replied Douglass, +with quiet sarcasm, and proceeded to the +second act.</p> + +<p>"You read that with greater power here +than to me," said Helen. "I wish we could +give it the same unity and sweep of expression +as we act it." She addressed the company +in her calm, clear voice: "I hope you will all +observe carefully Mr. Douglass's reading. He +is giving us most valuable advice in every inflection."</p> + +<p>Her attitude towards her company was admirable +in its simplicity and reserve. It was +plain that she respected their personalities and +expected the same high courtesy from them. +Some of the men were of the kind who say +"My deah" to every woman, and "My deah +boy" to the most casual acquaintance—vain, +egotistical, wordy, and pompous; but one +glance from Helen was sufficient to check an +over-familiar hand in mid-air. The boldest of +them did not clap her on the shoulder but +once.</p> + +<p>The reading passed to a rather enthusiastic +finish, and Douglass then said: "I have read +the play to you carefully, because I believe—<i>I +know</i>—that an intelligent rendition of your +individual parts is impossible without a clear +knowledge of the whole drama. My theories +of a play and its representation are these: +As an author, I see every detail of a scene as +if it were a section of life. I know where all +my people are at each moment of time, and +their positions must be determined by the +logic of the picture without any reference to +those who wish to hold the centre of the stage. +In a certain sense you are only different-colored +pigments in my hands, to be laid on to +form a unified painting. You must first of all +learn to subordinate yourselves to the designs +of the author. I know this sounds harsh—seems +to reduce you to a very low level of intelligence; +but, as a matter of fact, the most +highly gifted of our actors to-day are those +who are able to do this very thing—to carry +in their minds a conception of the unity of +a scene, never thrusting their personalities +through it or out of it. I mention these points +because I intend to assist in the rehearsals, +and I don't want to be misunderstood."</p> + +<p>Helen interposed a word: "I need not say +that I consider this a very powerful play—with +that opinion you all agree, I am sure—but +I want to say further that Mr. Douglass +has the right to demand of each of us subordination +to the inner design of his work. I +am personally very glad always to avail myself +of the author's criticism and suggestion. +I hope you will all feel the same willingness +to carry out Mr. Douglass's scenes as he has +written them. Mr. Saunders, will you please +give out the parts and call a rehearsal for to-morrow +at ten o'clock sharp?"</p> + +<p>At this point all rose. Saunders, a plain +little man, highly pleased with his authority, +began to bustle about, bellowing boisterously: +"Here you are now—everybody come letter-perfect +to-morrow. Sharp at ten. No lagging."</p> + +<p>The players, accustomed to his sounding +assumption of command, paid no attention +other than to clutch their rolls of type-written +manuscript. Each withdrew into the street +with an air of haste.</p> + +<p>As Helen received her portion Saunders +said: "Here, Miss Merival, is a fat part—must +be yours. Jee-rusalem the golden! I'd hate +to tackle that rôle."</p> + +<p>Douglass was ready to collar the ass for his +impudent tone, but Helen seemed to consider +it no more than the harmless howl of a chair +sliding across the floor. She was inured to +the old-time "assistant stage-manager."</p> + +<p>Turning to Douglass, she said, "Do you +realize, Mr. Author, that we are now actually +begun upon your play?"</p> + +<p>"No, I do not. I confess it all seems a +make-believe—a joke."</p> + +<p>"You'll not think it a joke at the end of the +week. It's terribly hard work to put on a big +piece like this. If I seem apathetic in my +part I beg you not to worry. I must save +myself all I can. I never begin to act at rehearsal +till I have thought the business all out +in my mind. But come, you are to lunch +with us in honor of the first rehearsal, and it +is late."</p> + +<p>"It seems a deplorable thing that you must +come every morning to this gloomy and repellent +place—"</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is a part of our life the public +knows nothing of. They all come to it—the +divine Sarah, Duse—none are exempt. The +glamour of the foot-lights at night does not +warm the theatre at eleven of the morning."</p> + +<p>"I see it does not," he answered, lightly; +but in reality he felt that something sweet and +something regal was passing out of his conception +of her. To see her even seated with +these commonplace men and women detracted +even from her glory, subjected her to the same +laws. It was a relief to get out into the gay +street—to her carriage, and to the hotel where +the attendants hovered about her as bees +about their queen.</p> + +<p>She was in high spirits all through the +luncheon, and Douglass was carried out of +his dark gravity by her splendid vitality, her +humor, and her hopefulness.</p> + +<p>"All you need is a hearing," she said. "And +you shall have that. Oh, but there is a wilderness +of work before us! Can you design +the scenes? I like to do that. It's like playing +with doll-houses. I'll show you how. +We'll leave the financial side of it to you, +Hugh," she said, to her brother. "Come, +Mr. Playwright," and they set to work with +paste and card-board like a couple of children, +and soon had models of all the sets. They +seemed childish things indeed, but Helen was +mistress of even the mechanical side of the +stage, and these paste-pot sketches were of +the greatest value to the scene-painter and +the carpenter.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/064-cap.png" alt="T" title="T" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">HESE</span> three weeks of rehearsal +formed the happiest time +Douglass had ever known, for +all things conspired to make +each day brim with mingled +work and worship. First of all, and above +all, he was permitted to meet Helen each +day, and for hours each day, without fear of +gossip and without seeking for an excuse.</p> + +<p>Each morning, a little before ten, he left his +room and went directly to the theatre to meet +the company and the manager. The star, +prompt as a clock, arrived soon after, and +Douglass, beforehand, as a lover, was always +there to help her from her carriage and to lead +the way through the dark passage to the stage, +where the pompous little Saunders was forever +marshalling his uneasy vassals in joyous +exercise of sovereignty.</p> + +<p>Helen was happy as a child during these +days, and glowing with new ideas of "business" +and stage-setting. "We will spare no +work and no expense," she said, buoyantly, +to Mr. Westervelt, her manager. "We have +a drama worthy of us. I want every one of +Mr. Douglass's ideas carried out."</p> + +<p>The manager did not know, as Douglass did, +that some of the ideas were her own, and so +took a melancholy view of every innovation.</p> + +<p>"You can't do that," he gloomily repeated. +"The public won't stand for new things. +They want the old scenes rehashed. The public +don't want to think; it wants to laugh. +This story is all right for a book, but won't do +for a play. I don't see why you quit a good +thing for a risk like this. It is foolish and will +lose money," he added, as a climax.</p> + +<p>"Croak, you old raven—you'll be embarrassed +when we fill your money-box," she replied, +gayly. "You should have an ideal, Mr. +Westervelt."</p> + +<p>"An ideal. What should I do with that?"</p> + +<p>Like most men, Douglass knew nothing +about gowns in their constituent parts, but he +had a specially keen eye for the fitting and +beautiful in a woman's toilet, and Helen was +a constant delight to him because of the distinction +of her dresses. They were refined, yet +not weakly so—simple, yet always alluring. +Under the influence of her optimism (and also +because he did not wish to have her apologize +for him) he drew on his slender bank-account +for funds to provide himself with a carefully +tailored suit of clothes and a new hat.</p> + +<p>"How well you are looking!" she said, in +soft aside, as he met her one morning soon +after. "Your hat is very becoming."</p> + +<p>"I am made all over new <i>inside</i>—so I hastened +to typify the change exteriorly. I am +rejoiced if you like me in my 'glad rags,'" he +replied.</p> + +<p>"You are really splendid," she answered, +with admiring fervor. "Let us hurry through +to-day; I am tired and want a spin in the +park."</p> + +<p>"That is for you to say," he answered.</p> + +<p>"You are never tired," she sighed. "I wish +I had your endurance."</p> + +<p>"It is the endurance of desperation. I am +staking all I have on this venture." Then, in +low-toned intensity, he added: "It hurts me +to have you forced to go over and over these +lines because of the stupidity of a bunch of +cheap little people. Why don't you let me +read your part?"</p> + +<p>"That would not be fair," she answered, +quickly—"neither to them nor to you. No, +I am an actress, and this is a part of my life. +We are none of us exempt from the universal +curse."</p> + +<p>"Royleston is our curse. Please let me +kick him out the stage-door—he is an insufferable +ass, and a bad actor besides."</p> + +<p>"He is an ass, but he can act. No, it's too +late to change him now. Wait; be patient. +He'll pull up and surprise you at the final rehearsal."</p> + +<p>At four o'clock they were spinning up Fifth +Avenue, which resounded with the hoof-strokes +of stately horses, and glittered with +the light of varnished leather. The rehearsal +was put far behind them. The day was glorious +November, and the air sparkling without +being chill. A sudden exaltation seized Helen. +"It certainly is a beautiful world—don't you +think so?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"I do now; I didn't two weeks ago," he replied, +soberly.</p> + +<p>"What has brought the change?"</p> + +<p>"You have." He looked at her steadily.</p> + +<p>She chose to be evasive. "I had a friend +some years ago who was in the deeps of despair +because no one would publish her book. +Once she had secured the promise of a real +publisher that he would take it she was radiant. +She thought the firm had been wondrously +kind. They made thirty thousand +dollars from the sale of her book. I am selfish—don't +you think I'm not—I'm going to +make fame and lots of money on your play."</p> + +<p>"I hope you may, for am I not to share in +all your gold and glory? I have greater need +of both than you. You already have all that +mortal could desire. I don't believe I've told +you what I called you before I met you—have +I?"</p> + +<p>"No; what was it?" Her eyes widened +with interest.</p> + +<p>"'The glittering woman.'"</p> + +<p>She looked puzzled. "Why that?"</p> + +<p>"Because of the glamour, the mystery, +which surrounded your name."</p> + +<p>"Even now I don't see."</p> + +<p>He looked amused and cried out: "On my +life, I believe you don't! Being at the source +of the light, you can't see it, of course. It's +like wearing a crown of electric lamps—others +see you as a dazzling thing; you are in the +dark. It is my trade to use words to express +my meaning, but I confess my hesitation in +trying to make you see yourself as I saw you. +You were like a baleful, purple star, something +monstrous yet beautiful. Your fame filled +the world and fell into my garret chamber +like a lurid sunrise. With your coming, mysterious +posters bloomed and crimson letters +blazed on street-walls. Praiseful paragraphs +appeared in the newspapers, gowns and hats +(named after you) and belt-buckles and shoes +and cigarettes arranged themselves in the +windows, each bearing your name."</p> + +<p>"What a load of tinsel for a poor little +woman to carry around! How it must have +shocked you to find me so commonplace! +None of us escape the common fates. It is always +a surprise to me to discover how simple +the men of great literary fame are. A friend +of mine once spent a whole evening with a +great novelist without discovering who he +was. She said to him when she found him +out, 'I couldn't believe that any one I could +meet could be great.' Really, I hope you will +forgive me for not being as superhuman as +my posters. It was the mystery of the unknown. +If you knew all about me I would be +entirely commonplace." She was more concerned +about his opinion of her than she expressed +in words. Her eagerness appeared +in her voice.</p> + +<p>"I found you infinitely more womanly than +I had supposed, and simpler. Even yet I +don't see how you can carry this oppressive +weight of advertising glory and still be—what +you are."</p> + +<p>"You seem to hesitate to tell me what I +am."</p> + +<p>"I do," he gravely answered, and for a +moment she sat in silence.</p> + +<p>"There's one objection to your assisting at +rehearsals," she said, irrelevantly. "You will +lose all the intoxication of seeing your play +freshly bodied forth. It will be a poor, old, +ragged story for you at the end of the three +weeks."</p> + +<p>"I've thought of that; but there are other +compensations."</p> + +<p>"You mean the pleasure of having the work +go right—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, partly that—partly the suggestion +that comes from a daily study of it."</p> + +<p>But the greatest compensation of all—the +joy in her daily companionship—he did not +have the courage to mention, and though she +divined other and deeper emotions she, too, +was silent.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/073-cap.png" alt="I" title="I" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">N</span> the wearisome grind of rehearsal, +Douglass was deeply +touched and gratified by Helen's +efforts to aid him. She +was always willing to try again, +and remained self-contained even when the +author flung down the book and paced the +stage in a breathless rage. "Ah, the stupidity +of these people!" he exclaimed, after one +of these interruptions. "They are impossible. +They haven't the brains of a rabbit. +Take Royleston; you'd think he ought to +know enough to read a simple line like that, +but he doesn't. He can't even imitate my +way of reading it. They're all so absorbed +in their plans to make a hit—"</p> + +<p>"Like their star," she answered, with a +gleam in her eyes, "and the author."</p> + +<p>"But our aims are larger."</p> + +<p>"But not more vital; their board and washing +hang on their success."</p> + +<p>He refused to smile. "They are geese. I +hate to have you giving time and labor to +such numskulls. You should give your time +to your own part."</p> + +<p>"I'm a quick study. Please don't worry +about me. Come, let's go on; we'll forget all +about it to-morrow," and with a light hand on +his arm she led him back to the front of the +stage, and the rehearsal proceeded.</p> + +<p>It was the hardest work he ever did, and he +showed it. Some of the cast had to be +changed. Two dropped out—allured by a +better wage—and all the work on their characterizations +had to be done over. Others +were always late or sick, and Royleston was +generally thick-headed from carousal at his +club. Then there were innumerable details +of printing and scenery to be decided upon, +and certain overzealous minor actors came to +him to ask about their wigs and their facial +make-up.</p> + +<p>In desperation over the small-fry he took +the stage himself, helping them in their groupings +and exits, which kept him on his feet and +keyed to high nervous tension for hours at a +time, so that each day his limbs ached and his +head swam at the close of the last act.</p> + +<p>He marvelled at Helen's endurance and at +her self-restraint. She was always ready to +interpose gently when hot shot began to fly, +and could generally bring about a laugh and +a temporary truce by some pacific word.</p> + +<p>Hugh and Westervelt both came to her to +say: "Tell Douglass to let up. He expects +too much of these people. He's got 'em +rattled. Tell him to go and slide down-hill +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that," she answered. "It's his +play—his first play—and—he's right. He +has an ideal, and it will do us all good to live +up to it."</p> + +<p>To this Hugh replied, with bitterness, +"You're too good to him. I wish you weren't +quite so—" He hesitated. "They're beginning +to talk about it."</p> + +<p>"About what?" she asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>"About his infatuation."</p> + +<p>Her eyes grew steady and penetrating, but +a slow, faint flush showed her self-consciousness. +"Who are talking?"</p> + +<p>"Westervelt—the whole company." He +knew his sister and wished he had not spoken, +but he added: "The fellows on the street have +noticed it. How could they help it when you +walk with him and eat with him and ride with +him?"</p> + +<p>"Well?" she asked, with defiant inflection. +"What is to follow? Am I to govern my life +to suit Westervelt or the street? I admire +and respect Mr. Douglass very much. He +has more than one side to him. I am sick of +the slang of the Rialto and the greenroom. +I'm tired of cheap witticisms and of gossip. +With Mr. Douglass I can discuss calmly and +rationally many questions which trouble me. +He helps me. To talk with him enables me +to take a deep breath and try again. He enables +me to forget the stage for a few hours."</p> + +<p>Hugh remained firm. "But there's your +own question—what's to be the end of it? +You can't do this without getting talked +about."</p> + +<p>She smiled, and the glow of her humor disarmed +him. "Sufficient unto the end is the +evil thereof. I don't think you need to +worry—"</p> + +<p>Hugh was indeed greatly troubled. He began +to dislike and suspect Douglass. They had +been antipathetic from the start, and no advance +on the author's part could bring the +manager nearer. It was indeed true that the +young playwright was becoming a marked +figure on the street, and the paragrapher of +<i>The Saucy Swells</i> spoke of him not too obscurely +as the lucky winner of "our modern +Helen," which was considered a smart allusion. +This paragraph was copied by the leading +paper of his native city, and his father +wrote to know if it were really true that he +was about to marry a play-actress.</p> + +<p>This gave a distinct shock to Douglass, for +it made definite and very moving the vague +dreams which had possessed him in his hours +of reflection. His hands clinched, and while +his heart beat fast and his breath shortened +he said: "Yes, I will win her if I can"; but he +was not elated. The success of his play was +still in the future, and till he had won his +wreath he had no right to address her in any +terms but those of friendship.</p> + +<p>In spite of the flood of advance notices and +personal paragraphs, in spite of envious gossip, +he lived on quietly in his attic-room at the +Roanoke. He had few friends and no intimates +in the city, and cared little for the social +opportunities which came to him. Confident +of success, he gave up his connection with +<i>The Blazon</i>, whose editor valued his special +articles on the drama so much as to pay him +handsomely for them. The editor of this +paper, Mr. Anderson, his most intimate acquaintance, +was of the Middle West, and from +the first strongly admired the robust thought +of the young architect whose "notions" concerning +the American drama made him trouble +among his fellow-craftsmen.</p> + +<p>"You're not an architect, you're a critic," +he said to him early in their accidental acquaintance. +"Now, I want to experiment on +you. I want you to see Irving to-night and +write your impressions of it. I have a notion +you'll startle my readers."</p> + +<p>He did. His point of view, so modern, so +uncompromising, so unshaded by tradition, +delighted Anderson, and thereafter he was +able to employ the young playwright regularly. +These articles came to have a special +value to the thoughtful "artists" of the stage, +and were at last made into a little book, +which sold several hundred copies, besides +bringing him to the notice of a few congenial +cranks and come-outers who met in an old +tavern far down in the old city.</p> + +<p>These articles—this assumption of the superior +air of the critic—led naturally to the +determination to write a play to prove his +theories, and now that the play was written +and the trial about to be made his anxiety +to win the public was very keen. He had a +threefold reason for toiling like mad—to prove +his theories, to gain bread, and to win Helen; +and his concentration was really destructive. +He could think of nothing else. All his correspondence +ceased. He read no more; he went +no more to his club. His only diversions +were the rides and the lunches which he took +with Helen.</p> + +<p>With her in the park he was a man transformed. +His heaviness left him. His tongue +loosened, and together they rose above the +toilsome level of the rehearsal and abandoned +themselves to the pure joy of being young. +Together they visited the exhibitions of painting +and sculpture, and to Helen these afternoons +were a heavenly release from her own +world.</p> + +<p>It made no difference to her who objected +to her friendship with Douglass. After years +of incredible solitude and seclusion and hard +work in the midst of multitudes of admirers +and in the swift-beating heart of cities, with +every inducement to take pleasure, she had +remained the self-denying student of acting. +Her summers had been spent in England or +France, where she saw no one socially and +met only those who were interested in her +continued business success. Now she abandoned +this policy of reserve and permitted herself +the joys of a young girl in company with +a handsome and honorable man, denying herself +even to the few.</p> + +<p>She played badly during these three weeks, +and Westervelt was both sad and furious. +Her joyous companionship with Douglass, her +work on his sane and wholesome drama, their +discussions of what the stage should be and do +unfitted her for the factitious parts she was +playing.</p> + +<p>"I am going to drop all of these characters +into the nearest abyss," she repeated each +time with greater intensity. "I shall never +play them again after your drama is ready. +My contract with Westervelt has really expired +so far as his exclusive control over me +is concerned, and I will not be coerced into a +return to such work."</p> + +<p>Her eyes were opened also to the effect of +her characters on the audiences that assembled +night after night to hear her, and she began +to be troubled by the thousands of young +girls who flocked to her matinées. "Is it +possible that what I call 'my art' is debasing +to their bright young souls?" she asked herself. +"Is Mr. Douglass right? Am I responsible?"</p> + +<p>It was the depression of these moods which +gave her corresponding elation as she met her +lover's clear, calm eyes of a morning, and +walked into the atmosphere of his drama, +whose every line told for joy and right living +as well as for serious art.</p> + +<p>Those were glorious days for her—the delicious +surprise of her surrender came back +each morning. She had loved once, with the +sweet single-heartedness of a girl, shaken with +sweet and yielding joy of a boyish face and a +slim and graceful figure. What he had said +she could not remember; what he was, no +longer counted; but what that love had been +to her mattered a great deal, for when he +passed out of her life the glow of his worship +remained in her heart, enabling her to keep a +jealous mastery of her art and to remain untouched +by the admiration of those who sought +her favor in every city she visited. Douglass +was amazed to find how restricted her social +circle was. Eagerly sought by many of the +great drawing-rooms of the city, she seldom +went to even the house of a friend.</p> + +<p>"Her art is a jealous master," her intimates +were accustomed to say, implying that she +had remained single in order that she might +climb higher on the shining ladder of fame, +and in a sense this was true; but she was not +sordid in her ambitions—she was a child of +nature. She loved rocks, hills, trees, and +clouds. And it was this elemental simplicity +of taste which made Douglass the conquering +hero that he was. She felt in him concrete, +rugged strength and honesty of purpose, as +wide as the sky from the polished courtesy +and the conventional evasions of her urban +admirers.</p> + +<p>"No, I am not a bit in society," she confessed, +in answer to some remark from him. +"I couldn't give up my time and strength to +it if I wished, and I don't wish. I'd rather +have a few friends in for a quiet little evening +after the play than go to the swellest reception."</p> + +<p>During all this glorious time no shadow of +approaching failure crossed their horizon. The +weather might be cold and gray; their inner +sky remained unspotted of any vapor. If it +rained, they lunched at the hotel; if the day +was clear they ran out into the country or +through the park in delightful comradeship, +gay, yet thoughtful, full of brisk talk, even +argument, but not on the drama. She had +said, "Once for all, I do not intend to talk +shop when I am out for pleasure," and he respected +her wishes. He had read widely +though haphazardly, and his memory was +tenacious, and all he had, his whole mind, his +best thought, was at her command during +those hours of recreation.</p> + +<p>He began to see the city from the angle of +the successful man. It no longer menaced +him; he even began to dream of dominating +it by sheer force of genius. When at her side +he was invincible. Her buoyant nature transformed +him. Her faith, her joy in life was a +steady flame; nothing seemed to disturb her +or make her afraid. And she attributed this +strength, this joyous calm, to his innate sense +of power—and admired him for it. That he +drew from her, relied upon her, never entered +her conception of their relations to each +other.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as the play was nearing its +initial production the critics loomed larger. +Together they ran over the list. "There is +the man who resembles Shakespeare?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"He will be kindly."</p> + +<p>"And the fat man with shifty gray eyes?"</p> + +<p>"He will slate us, unless—"</p> + +<p>"And the big man with the grizzled beard?"</p> + +<p>"We'll furnish him a joke or two."</p> + +<p>"And the man who comes in on crutches?"</p> + +<p>"He'll slaughter us; he hates the modern."</p> + +<p>"Then the man who looks like Lincoln?"</p> + +<p>"He is on our side. But how about the +man with the waxed mustache?"</p> + +<p>"He'll praise me."</p> + +<p>"And slit the playwright's ears. Well, I +will not complain. What will the 'Free Lance' +do—the one who accepts bribes and cares for +his crippled daughter like an angel—what will +he do?"</p> + +<p>"Well, that depends. Do you know him?"</p> + +<p>"I do not, and don't care to. That exhausts +the list of the notables; the rest are +bright young fellows who are ready to welcome +a good thing. Some of them I know +slightly, but I do not intend to do one +thing, aside from my work, to win their support."</p> + +<p>"That is right, of course. Westervelt may +take a different course." And in this confident +way they approached the day of +trial.</p> + +<p>Westervelt, watching with uneasy eyes the +growing intimacy of his star and her playwright, +began to hint his displeasure to Hugh, +and at last openly to protest. "What does +she mean?" he asked, explosively. "Does +she dream of marrying the man? That +would be madness! Death! Tell her so, my +boy."</p> + +<p>Hugh concealed his own anxiety. "Oh, +don't worry, they're only good comrades."</p> + +<p>Westervelt grunted with infinite contempt. +"Comrades! If he is not making love to her +I'm a Greek."</p> + +<p>Hugh was much more uneasy than the +manager, but he had more sense than to rush +in upon his famous sister with a demand. +He made his complaint to the gentle mother. +"I wish she would drop this social business +with Douglass. He's a good fellow, but she +oughtn't to encourage him in this way. +What's the sense of having him on the string +every blessed afternoon? Do you imagine +she's in earnest? What does she mean? It +would be fatal to have her marry anybody +now—it would ruin her with the public. Besides, +Douglass is only a poor grub of a journalist, +and a failure in his own line of business. +Can't we do something?"</p> + +<p>The mother stood in awe of her shining +daughter and shook her head. "She is old +enough to know her own mind, Hugh. I +darena speak to her. Besides, I like Mr. +Douglass."</p> + +<p>"Yes, he won you by claiming Scotch +blood. I don't like it. She is completely +absorbed in him. All I can hope is it won't +last."</p> + +<p>"If she loves him I canna interfere, and +if she doesna there is no need to interfere," +replied Mrs. MacDavitt, with sententious +wisdom.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/090-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">T</span> the last moment, when face +to face with the public, young +Douglass lost courage. The +stake for which he played was +so great! Like a man who +has put his last dollar upon the hazard, he +was ready to snatch his gold from the boards. +The whole thing seemed weakly tenuous at +dress-rehearsal, and Royleston, half-drunk as +usual, persistently bungled his lines. The +children in the second act squeaked like +nervous poll-parrots, and even Helen's sunny +brow was darkened by a frown as her +leading man stumbled along to a dead halt +again and again.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Royleston," she said, with dismay and +anger in her voice, "I beg of you to remember +that this is a most serious matter."</p> + +<p>Her tone steadied the man, for he was a +really brilliant and famous actor beginning +to break. He grew courtly. "Miss Merival, +I assure you I shall be all right to-night."</p> + +<p>At this Douglass, tense and hot, shouted +an angry word, and rushed into the semi-darkness +of the side aisle. There Helen +found him when she came off, his face black +with anger and disgust. "It's all off," he +said. "That conceited fool will ruin us."</p> + +<p>"Don't take things too seriously," she pleaded. +"Royleston isn't half so hopeless as he +seems; he will come on to-night alert as a +sparrow and astonish you. We have worked +very hard, and the whole company needs rest +now rather than more drill. To show your +own worry would make them worse than +they are."</p> + +<p>In the end he went back to his seat ashamed +of his outburst of temper, and the rehearsal +came to an end almost triumphantly, due +entirely to the spirit and example of the star, +who permitted herself to act for the first time.</p> + +<p>It was a marvellous experience to see her +transformed, by the mere putting aside of her +cloak, from the sweet-faced, thoughtful girl +to the stern, accusing, dark, and tense woman +of the play. Her voice took on the quivering +intonation of the seeress, and her spread hand +seemed to clutch at the hearts of her perfidious +friends. At such moments Douglass sat +entranced, afraid to breathe for fear of breaking +the spell, and when she dropped her rôle +and resumed her cloak he shivered with pain.</p> + +<p>It hurt him, also, to have her say to Royleston: +"Now, to-morrow night I shall be here +at the mirror when you enter; I will turn and +walk towards you till I reach this little stand. +I will move around this to the right," etc. It +seemed to belittle her art, to render it mechanical, +and yet he admitted the necessity; +for those who were to play with her were entitled +to know, within certain limits, where to +find her in the scene. He began to regret +having had anything to do with the rehearsal. +It would have been so much more splendid to +see the finished product of her art with no +vexing memory of the prosaic processes of its +upbuilding.</p> + +<p>She seemed to divine his feelings, and explained: +"Up to a certain point every art is +mechanical; the outlines of my acting are +fixed, but within those limits I am guided by +impulse. Even if I dared to rely on the inspiration +of the moment my support cannot; +they must know what I am going to do. I +sincerely wish now that you had left us to our +struggle; and yet we've had a good time, +haven't we?"</p> + +<p>"The best of my whole life," he answered, +fervently.</p> + +<p>"Now, let's rest. Let's go to the opera to-night, +for to-morrow I cannot see you—no, +nor Monday, either. I shall remain in seclusion +all day in a darkened room. I must +think my part all out alone. There in the +dark I shall sleep as much as possible. Helen's +'unconscious cerebration' must now get in its +work," she ended, laughingly.</p> + +<p>They all dined together at her table, and +sat together in the box, while the vast harmonies +of <i>Siegfried</i> rose like sun-shot mist +from beneath them.</p> + +<p>Helen was rapt, swept out of herself; and +Douglass, with delicate consideration, left her +alone with her musings, whose depth and intensity +appeared in the lines of her sensitive +face. He had begun to understand the sources +of her power—that is to say, her fluid and instant +imagination which permitted her to share +in the joy of every art. Under the spell of a +great master she was able to divine the passion +which directed him. She understood the +sense of power, the supreme ease and dignity +of Ternina, of De Reszke, just as she was able +to partake in the pride of the great athlete +who wrestled upon the mat. She touched +life through her marvellous intuition at a hundred +points.</p> + +<p>He was not discouraged, therefore, when, +as they were going out, she said, with a quick +clasp of her hand on his arm, "This matchless +music makes our venture seem very small." +He understood her mood, and to a lesser degree +shared it.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to talk," she said at the door +of her carriage. "Good-bye till Monday night. +Courage!"</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/096-cap.png" alt="D" title="D" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">EPRIVATION</span> of Helen's companionship +even for a day produced +in Douglass such longing +that his hours were misery, +and, though Sunday was long +and lonely, Monday stretched to an intolerable +length. He became greatly disturbed, +and could neither work nor sit still, so active +was his imagination. He tried to sleep, but +could not, even though his nerves were +twitching for want of it; and at last, in desperate +resolution, he set himself the task of +walking to Grant's tomb and back, in the +hope that physical weariness would benumb +his restless brain. This good result followed. +He was in deep slumber when the bell-boy +rapped at his door and called, "Half-past six, +sir."</p> + +<p>He sprang up, moved by the thought, "In +two hours Helen will be entering upon that +first great scene," and for the first time gave +serious consideration to the question of an +audience. "I hope Westervelt has neglected +nothing. It would be shameful if Helen +played to a single empty seat. I will give +tickets away on the sidewalk rather than have +it so. But, good Heavens, such a condition is +impossible!"</p> + +<p>After dressing with great care, he hastened +directly to the theatre. It was early, and as +he stepped into the entrance he found only +the attendants, smiling, expectant, in their +places. A doubt of success filled him with +sudden weakness, and he slipped out on the +street again, not caring to be recognized by +any one at that hour. "They will laugh at +my boyish excitement," he said, shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>Broadway, the chief thoroughfare of the +pleasure-seekers of all America, was just beginning +to thicken with life. The cafés were +sending forth gayly dressed groups of diners +jovially crowding into their waiting carriages. +Automobiles and cabs were rushing northward +to meet the theatre-goers of the up-town +streets, while the humbler patrons of the +"family circles" and "galleries" of the play-houses +lower down were moving southward +on foot, sharing for a few moments in the +brilliancy and wealth of the upper avenue. +The surface cars, clamorous, irritable, and +timid, jammed at the crossings like sheep at +a river-ford, while overhead the electric trains +thundered to and fro, crowded with other +citizens also theatre-bound. It seemed that +the whole metropolis, alert to the drama, had +flung its health and wealth into one narrow +stream, and yet, "in all these thousands of +careless citizens, who thinks of <i>Lillian's +Duty</i>?" thought the unnerved playwright.</p> + +<p>"What do these laughing, insatiate amusement-seekers +care about any one's duty? +They are out to enjoy life. They are the well-to-do, +the well-fed, the careless livers. Many +of them are keen, relentless business-men +wearied by the day's toil. They are now seeking +relaxation, and not at all concerned with +acquiring wisdom or grace. They are, indeed, +the very kind of men to whom my play sets +the cold steel, and their wives, of higher purpose, +of gentler wills, are, nevertheless, quite +as incapable of steady and serious thought. +Not one of them has any interest in the problem +I have set myself to delineate."</p> + +<p>He was saved from utter rout by remembrance +of Helen. He recalled the Wondrous +Woman as she had seemed to him of old, +striving to regain his former sense of her power, +her irresistible fascination. He assured +himself that her indirect influence over the +city had been proven to be enormous, almost +fantastic, though her worshippers knew the +real woman not at all, allured only by the +aureoled actress. Yes, she would triumph, +even if the play failed, for they would see her +at last in a congenial rôle wherein her nobility, +her intellectual power would be given full and +free expression. Her appeal to her worshippers +would be doubled.</p> + +<p>When he returned to the theatre a throng +of people filled the entrance-way, and he was +emboldened to pass in—even bowed to the +attendants and to Hugh, who stood in the +lobby, in shining raiment, a <i>boutonnière</i> in +his coat, his face radiating confidence and +pride.</p> + +<p>"We've got 'em coming," he announced, +with glee. "We are all sold out—not a seat +left, and only the necessary 'paper' out. +They're curious to see her in a new rôle. You +are made!"</p> + +<p>"I hope so," replied the playwright, weakly. +"Tuesday night tells the story."</p> + +<p>Hugh laughed. "Why, man, I believe +you're scared. We're all right. I can sniff +victory in the air."</p> + +<p>This confidence, so far from inspiriting +Douglass, still further depressed him, and he +passed in and on up into the second gallery, +where he had privately purchased a reserved +seat with intent to sense for himself the feeling +of the upper part of the house during the first +act. Keeping his muffler pinned close so that +his evening dress escaped notice, he found his +way down to the railing quite secure from +recognition by any one at the peep-hole of the +curtain or in the boxes, and there took his +seat to watch the late-comers ripple down the +aisles. He was experienced enough to know +that "first-nighters" do not always count and +that they are sometimes false prophets, and +yet he could not suppress a growing exaltation +as the beautiful auditorium filled with +men and women such as he had himself often +called "representative," and, best of all, many +of the city's artists and literarians were present.</p> + +<p>He knew also that the dramatic critics were +assembling, jaded and worn with ceaseless +attendance on worthless dramas, a condition +which should have fitted them for the keener +enjoyment of any fresh, original work, but he +did not deceive himself. He knew from their +snarling onslaughts on plays he had praised +that they were not to be pleased with anything—at +least not all of them at the same +time. That they were friendly to Helen he +knew, that they would praise her he was assured, +but that they would "slate" his play +he was beginning to find inevitable.</p> + +<p>As the curtain rose on the first scene he felt +the full force of Helen's words, "You won't +enjoy the performance at all." He began now +to pay for the joy he had taken in her companionship. +He knew the weakness of every +actor, and suffered with them and for them. +Royleston from the first tortured him by mumbling +his lines, palpably "faking" at times. +"The idiot, he'll fail to give his cues!" muttered +Douglass. "He'll ruin the play." The children +scared him also, they were so important +to Helen at the close of the act.</p> + +<p>At last the star came on—so quietly that +the audience did not at the moment recognize +her, but when those nearest the stage started +a greeting to her it was taken up all over the +shining house—a magnificent "hand."</p> + +<p>Never before had Helen Merival appeared +before an audience in character so near her +own good self, and the lovely simplicity of +her manner came as a revelation to those of +her admirers who had longed to know more +of her private character. For several minutes +they applauded while she smilingly bowed, +but at last the clapping died away, and each +auditor shrugged himself into an easy posture +in his chair, waiting for the great star to take +up her rôle.</p> + +<p>This she did with a security and repose of +manner which thrilled Douglass in spite of his +intimate knowledge of her work at rehearsals. +The subtlety of her reading, the quiet, controlled +precision and grace of her action restored +his confidence in her power. "She has +them in her hand. She cannot fail."</p> + +<p>The act closed triumphantly, though some +among the audience began to wince. Helen +came before the curtain several times, and +each time with eyes that searched for some +one, and Douglass knew with definiteness that +she sought her playwright in order that she +might share her triumph with him. But a +perverse mood had seized him. "This is all +very well, but wait till the men realize the +message of the play," he muttered, and lifted +the programme to hide his face.</p> + +<p>A buzz of excited comment rose from below, +and though he could not hear a word beyond +the water-boy's call he was able to +imagine the comment.</p> + +<p>"Why, how lovely! I didn't suppose Helen +Merival could do a sweet, domestic thing like +that."</p> + +<p>"Isn't her gown exquisite? I've heard she +is a dainty dresser in real life, quite removed +from the kind of thing she wears on the stage. +I wish she were not so seclusive. I'd like to +know her."</p> + +<p>"But do you suppose this is her real self?"</p> + +<p>"It must be. She doesn't seem to be acting +at all. I must say I prefer her in her usual +parts."</p> + +<p>"She's wonderful as <i>The Baroness</i>."</p> + +<p>"I never let my daughters see her in those +dreadful characters—they are too bold; but +they are both here to-night. I understood it +was to be quite a departure."</p> + +<p>Douglass, knowing well that Hugh and the +manager were searching for him, sat with face +bent low until the lights were again lowered. +"Now comes the first assault. Now we will +see them wince."</p> + +<p>The second act was distinctly less pleasing +to those who sat below him in the orchestra +and dress circle. Applause was still hearty, +but it lacked the fervor of the first act. He +could see men turn and whisper to one another +now and then. They laughed, of course, +and remarked each to the other, "Brown, +you're getting a 'slat' to-night."</p> + +<p>"They are cheering the actress, not the +play," observed the author.</p> + +<p>The gallery, less sensitive or more genuinely +patriotic, thundered on, applauding the +lines as well as the growing power of Helen's +impersonation. Royleston was at last beginning +to play, the fumes of his heavy dinner having +cleared away. He began to grip his lines, +and that gave the star her first opportunity +to forget his weakness and throw herself into +her part. All in all, only a very discriminating +ear could have detected a falling-off of +favor in this act. The curtain was lifted four +times, and a few feeble cries for the author +were heard, chiefly from the first balcony.</p> + +<p>Here was the point whereat his hoped-for +triumph was to have begun, but it did not. +He was touched by an invisible hand which +kept him to his seat, though he knew that +Helen was waiting for him to receive, hand-in-hand +with her, the honors of the act.</p> + +<p>Some foreknowledge of defeat clarified the +young author's vision, and a bitter melancholy +crept over him as the third act unrolled. +"They will go out," he said to himself, "and +they will not come back for the last act. The +play is doomed to disaster." And a flame of +hatred rose in his heart against the audience. +"They are brutes!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>The scenes were deeply exciting, the clash +of interest upon interest was swift, novel +in sequence, and most dramatic in outcome, +but the applause was sharp and spasmodic, +not long continued and hearty as before. +Some of the men who had clapped loudest at +the opening now sat gnawing their mustaches +in sullen resentment.</p> + +<p>Douglass divined their thought: "This is a +confidence game. We came to be amused, +and this fellow instructs in sociology. We +didn't cough up two dollars to listen to a sermon; +we came to be rested. There's trouble +enough in the street without displaying it in +a place of amusement. The fellow ought to +be cut out."</p> + +<p>Others ceased to cheer because both acting +and play had mounted beyond their understanding. +Its grim humor, its pitiless character-drawing, +wearied them. Audience and +play, speaking generally, were at cross-purposes. +A minority, it was true, caught every +point, shouting with great joy, and a few, who +disapproved of the play, but were most devoted +admirers of Helen's art, joined half-heartedly +in their applause. But the act +closed dismally, notwithstanding its tremendous +climax. A chill east wind had swept +over the auditorium and a few sensitive souls +shivered. "What right has Helen Merival to +do a thing like this? What possesses her? +It must be true that she is infatuated with this +young man and produces his dreadful plays +to please him."</p> + +<p>"They say she is carried away with him. +He's very handsome, they tell me. I wish +they'd call him out."</p> + +<p>A buzz of complaining talk on the part of +those aggrieved filled in the interlude. The +few who believed in the drama were valiant in +its defence, but their arguments did not add +to the good-will of those who loved the actress +but detested the play.</p> + +<p>"This won't do," said the most authoritative +critic, as a detachment lined up at the bar +of the neighboring saloon. "Merival must +lop off this young dramatist or he'll 'queer' +her with her best friends. She mustn't attempt +to force this kind of thing down our +throats."</p> + +<p>"He won't last a week," said another.</p> + +<p>Their finality of tone resembled that of +emperors and sultans in counsel.</p> + +<p>Douglass, sitting humped and motionless +among his gallery auditors, was clearly aware +that Helen was weary and agitated, yet he remained +in his seat, his brain surging with rebellious +passion.</p> + +<p>His perverse pride was now joined by shame, +who seized him by the other arm and held him +prisoner. He felt like fleeing down the fire-escape. +The thought of running the gauntlet +of the smirking attendants, the possibility of +meeting some of the exultant dramatic critics, +most of whom were there to cut him to pieces, +revolted him. Their joyous grins were harder +to face than cannon, therefore he cowered in +his place during the long wait, his mind awhirl, +his teeth set hard.</p> + +<p>There were plenty of empty seats in the +orchestra when the curtain lifted on the last +act. Several of the critics failed to return. +The playwright dared not look at his watch, +for the scenes were dragging interminably. +His muscles ached with the sort of fatigue one +feels when riding in a slow train, and he detected +himself pushing with his feet as if to +hurry the action. The galleries did not display +an empty bench, but he took small comfort +in this, for he was not a believer in the +old-time theory of pleasing the gallery. "In +this city the two-dollar seats must be filled," +he said. "Helen is ruined if she loses +them."</p> + +<p>He began to pity her and to blame himself. +"What right had I to force my ferocious +theories upon her?" he asked himself, and at +the moment it seemed that he had completely +destroyed her prestige. She was plainly dispirited, +and her auditors looked at one another +in astonishment. "Can this sad woman +in gray, struggling with a cold audience and a +group of dismayed actors, be the brilliant and +beautiful Helen Merival?"</p> + +<p>That a part of this effect—most of it, in +fact—lay in the rôle of <i>Lillian</i> they had not +penetration enough to distinguish; they began +to doubt whether she had ever been the very +great success and the powerful woman they +had supposed her to be.</p> + +<p>The play did not really close, the audience +began to dribble out before the last half of the +act began, and the curtain went down on the +final scene while scores of women were putting +on their wraps. A loyal few called +Helen before the curtain, and her brave +attempt to smile made every friendly heart +bleed.</p> + +<p>Douglass, stiff and sore, as one who has +been cudgelled, rose with the crowd and +made his way to one of the outside exits, +eager to escape recognition, to become one +of the indistinguishable figures of the +street.</p> + +<p>A couple of tousled-headed students going +down the stairway before him tossed him his +first and only crumb of comfort. "It won't +go, of course," said one, in a tone of conviction, +"but it's a great play all the +same."</p> + +<p>"Right, old man," replied the other, with +the decision of a master. "It's too good for +this town. What New York wants is a continuous +variety show."</p> + +<p>Douglass knew keenly, deeply, that Helen +needed him—was looking for him—but the +thought of those who would be near at their +meeting made his entrance of the stage door +impossible. He walked aimlessly, drifting +with the current up the street, throbbing, +tense, and hot with anger, shame, and despair. +At the moment all seemed lost—his play, his +own position, and Helen. Helen would surely +drop him. The incredible had happened—he +had not merely defeated himself, he had +brought battle and pain and a stinging reproof +to a splendid, triumphant woman. The +enormous egotism involved in this he did +not at the moment apprehend. He was like +a wounded animal, content merely to escape.</p> + +<p>He longed to reach her, to beg her pardon, +to absolve her from any promise, and yet he +could not face Westervelt. He revolted at +the thought of meeting Royleston and Miss +Carmichael and Hugh. "No; it is impossible. +I will wait for her at the hotel."</p> + +<p>At this word he was filled with a new terror. +"The clerks and the bell-boys will have learned +of my failure. I cannot face them to-night." +And he turned and fled as if confronted by +serpents. "And yet I must send a message. +I must thank Helen and set her free. She +must not go through another such night for +my sake."</p> + +<p>He ended by dropping into another hotel +to write her a passionate note, which he sent +by a messenger:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Forgive me for the part I have played in +bringing this disaster upon you. I had no +idea that anything I could say or do would so +deeply injure you—you the Wondrous One. +It was incredible—their disdain of you. I +was a fool, a selfish boaster, to allow you to +go into this thing. The possible loss of money +we both discussed, but that any words of +mine could injure you as an artist never came +to me. Believe me, my dearest friend, I am +astounded. I am crushed with the thought, +and I dare not show my face among your +friends. I feel like an assassin. I will call +to-morrow—I can't do it to-night. I am +bleeding at the heart because I have made you +share the shame and failure which I feel to-night +are always to be mine. I was born to +be of the minority. Please don't give another +thought to me or my play. Go your own +way. Get back to the plays that please people. +Be happy. You have the right to be happy, +and I am a selfish, unthinking criminal whom +you would better forget. Don't waste another +dollar or another moment on my play—it +is madness. I am overwhelmed with my +debt to you, but I shall repay it some day."</p></div> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/116-cap.png" alt="H" title="H" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">ELEN</span> was more deeply hurt +and humiliated by her playwright's +flight than by the apparent +failure of the play, but +the two experiences coming together +fairly stunned her. To have the curtain +go down on her final scenes to feeble +and hesitating applause was a new and painful +experience. Never since her first public +reading had she failed to move and interest +her audience. What had happened? What +had so swiftly weakened her hold on her admirers? +Up to that moment she had been +sure that she could make any character successful.</p> + +<p>For a few moments she stood in the middle +of the stage stifling with a sense of mortification +and defeat, then turned, and without a +word or look to any one went to her dressing-room.</p> + +<p>Her maid was deeply sympathetic, and by +sudden impulse stooped and kissed her cheek, +saying, "Never mind, Miss Merival, it was +beautiful."</p> + +<p>This unexpected caress brought the tears +to the proud girl's eyes. "Thank you, Nora. +Some of the audience will agree with you, I +hope."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure of it, miss. Don't be downcast."</p> + +<p>Hugh knocked at the door. "Can you +come out?"</p> + +<p>"Not now, Hugh. In a few moments."</p> + +<p>"There are some people here to see you—"</p> + +<p>She wanted to say, "I don't want to see +them," but she only said, "Please ask them +to wait."</p> + +<p>She knew by the tone of her brother's voice +that he, too, was choking with indignation, and +she dreaded the meeting with him and with +Westervelt. She was sustained by the hope +that Douglass would be there to share her +punishment. "Why had he not shown himself?" +she asked again, with growing resentment.</p> + +<p>When she came out fully dressed she looked +tired and pale, but her head was high and her +manner proudly self-contained.</p> + +<p>Westervelt, surrounded by a small group +of depressed auditors, among whom were Mrs. +MacDavitt, Hugh, and Royleston, was holding +forth in a kind of bellow. "It proves +what? Simply that they will not have her +in these preachy domestic parts, that's all. +Every time she tries it she gets a 'knock.' I +complain, I advise to the contrary. Does it +do any good? No. She must chance it, all +to please this crank, this reformer."</p> + +<p>The mother, reading the disappointment +and suffering in Helen's white face, reached +for her tremulously and drew her to her bosom. +"Never mind what they say, Nellie; it +was beautiful and it was true."</p> + +<p>Even Westervelt was awed by the calm look +Helen turned on the group. "You are very +sure of yourself, Mr. Westervelt, but to my +mind this night only proves that this audience +came to hear me without intelligent design." +She faced the silent group with white +and weary face. "Certainly Mr. Douglass's +play is not for such an audience as that which +has been gathering to see me as <i>The Baroness</i>, +but that does not mean that I have no +other audience. There is a public for me in +this higher work. If there isn't, I will retire."</p> + +<p>Westervelt threw his hands in the air with +a tragic gesture. "Retire! My Gott, that +would be insanity!"</p> + +<p>Helen turned. "Come, mother, you are +tired, and so am I. Mr. Westervelt, this is no +place for this discussion. Good-night." She +bowed to the friends who had loyally gathered +to greet her. "I am grateful to you for your +sympathy."</p> + +<p>There was, up to this time, no word of the +author; but Hugh, as he walked by her side, +broke out resentfully, "Do you know that +beggar playwright—"</p> + +<p>"Not a word of him, Hugh," she said. +"You don't know what that poor fellow is +suffering. Our disappointment is nothing in +comparison with his. Think of what he has +lost."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! He has lost nothing, because +he had nothing to lose. He gets us involved—"</p> + +<p>"Hugh!" There was something in her utterance +of his name which silenced him more +effectually than a blow. "I produced this +play of my own free will," she added, a moment +later, "and I will take the responsibility of it."</p> + +<p>In the carriage the proud girl leaned back +against the cushions, and pressed her two +hands to her aching eyes, from which the tears +streamed. It was all so tragically different +from their anticipations. They were to have +had a little supper of jubilation together, to +talk it all over, to review the evening's triumph, +and now here she sat chill with disappointment, +while he was away somewhere in +the great, heartless city suffering tortures, +alone and despairing.</p> + +<p>The sweet, old mother put her arm about +her daughter's waist.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, dearie; it will all come right. +You can endure one failure. 'Tis not as bad +as it seems."</p> + +<p>Helen did not reply as she was tempted to +do by saying, "It isn't my defeat, it is his +failure to stand beside me and receive his +share of the disaster." And they rode the +rest of the way in sad silence.</p> + +<p>As she entered her room a maid handed her +a letter which she knew to be from Douglass +even before she saw the handwriting, and, +without opening it, passed on into her room. +"His message is too sacred for any other to +see," she said to herself, with instant apprehension +of the bitter self-accusation with +which he had written.</p> + +<p>The suffering expressed by the scrawling +lines softened her heart, her anger died away, +and only big tears of pity filled her glorious +eyes. "Poor boy! His heart is broken." +And a desire to comfort him swelled her bosom +with a passion almost maternal in its dignity. +Now that his pride was humbled, his strong +figure bowed, his clear brain in turmoil, her +woman's tenderness sought him and embraced +him without shame. Her own strength and +resolution came back to her. "I will save you +from yourself," she said, softly.</p> + +<p>When she returned to the reception-room +she found Westervelt and Hugh and several +of the leading actors (who took the evening's +"frost" as a reflection on themselves, an injury +to their reputations), all in excited +clamor; but when they saw their star enter +they fell silent, and Westervelt, sweating with +excitement, turned to meet her.</p> + +<p>"You must not go on. It is not the money +alone; it will ruin you with the public. It is +not for you to lecture the people. They will +not have it. Such a failure I have never seen. +It was not a 'frost,' it was a frozen solid. We +will announce <i>The Baroness</i> for to-morrow. +The pressmen are waiting below. I shall tell +them?" His voice rose in question.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Westervelt, this is my answer, and it +is final. I will not take the play off, and I +shall expect you to work with your best energy +to make it a success. One night does +not prove <i>Lillian</i> a failure. The audience to-night +was not up to it, but that condemns the +auditors, not the play. I do not wish to hear +any more argument. Good-night."</p> + +<p>The astounded and crestfallen manager +bowed his head and went out.</p> + +<p>Helen turned to the others. "I am tired +of this discussion. One would think the sky +had fallen—from all this tumult. I am sorry +for you, Mr. Royleston, but you are no deeper +in the slough than Miss Collins and the rest, +and they are not complaining. Now let us +sit down to our supper and talk of something +else."</p> + +<p>Royleston excused himself and went away, +and only Hugh, Miss Collins, Miss Carmichael, +and the old mother drank with the star to +celebrate the first performance of <i>Lillian's +Duty</i>.</p> + +<p>"I have had a letter from Mr. Douglass," +Helen said, softly, when they were alone. +"Poor fellow, he is absolutely prostrate in +the dust, and asks me to throw him overboard +as our Jonah. Put yourself in his +place, Hugh, before speaking harshly of +him."</p> + +<p>"I don't like a coward," he replied, contemptuously. +"Why didn't he face the music +to-night? I never so much as set eyes on him +after he came in. He must have been hiding +in the gallery. He leads you into this crazy +venture and then deserts you. A man who +does that is a puppy."</p> + +<p>A spark of amusement lit Helen's eyes. +"You might call him that when you meet him +next."</p> + +<p>Hugh, with a sudden remembrance of the +playwright's powerful frame, replied, a little +less truculently: "I'll call him something +more fit than that when I see him. But +we won't see him again. He's out of the +running."</p> + +<p>Helen laid her cheek on her folded hands, +and, with a smile which cleared the air like a +burst of sunshine, said, laughingly: "Hugh, +you're a big, bad boy. You should be out on +the ice skating instead of managing a theatre. +You have no more idea of George Douglass +than a bear has of a lion. This mood of +depression is only a cloud; it will pass and +you will be glad to beg his pardon. My +faith in him and in <i>Lillian's Duty</i> is unshaken. +He has the artistic temperament, +but he has also the pertinacity of genius. +Come, let's all go to bed and forget our +hurts."</p> + +<p>And with this she rose and kissed her mother +good-night.</p> + +<p>Hugh, still moody, replied, with sudden +tenderness: "It hurt me to see them go out +on your last scene. I can't forgive Douglass +for that."</p> + +<p>She patted his cheek. "Never mind that, +Hughie. 'This, too, shall pass away.'"</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/127-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">T</span> two o'clock, when Douglass +returned to his hotel, tired and +reckless of any man's scorn, the +night clerk smiled and said, as +he handed him a handful of +letters, "I hear you had a great audience, +Mr. Douglass."</p> + +<p>The playwright did not discover Helen's +note among his letters till he had reached his +room, and then, without removing his overcoat, +he stood beneath the gas-jet and read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Author</span>,—My heart bleeds for +you. I know how you must suffer, but you +must not despair. A first night is not conclusive. +Do not blame yourself. I took up your +play with my eyes open to consequences. You +are wrong if you think even the failure of this +play (which I do not grant) can make any difference +in my feeling towards you. The power of +the lines, your high purpose, remain. Suppose +it does fail? You are young and fertile of imagination. +You can write another and better +play in a month, and I will produce it. My +faith in you is not weakened, for I know your +work is good. I have turned my back on the +old art and the old rôles; I need you to supply +me with new ones. This is no light thing +with me. I confess to surprise and dismay +to-night, but I should not have been depressed +had you been there beside me. I was deeply +hurt and puzzled by your absence, but I think +I understand how sore and wounded you were. +Come in to see me to-morrow, as usual, and +we will consider what can be done with this +play and plan for a new one. Come! You +are too strong and too proud to let a single +unfriendly audience dishearten you. We will +read the papers together at luncheon and +laugh at the critics. Don't let your enemies +think they have driven you into retirement. +Forget them in some new work, and remember +my faith in you is not shaken."</p></div> + +<p>This letter, so brave, so gravely tender and +so generous, filled him with love, choked him +with grateful admiration. "You are the noblest +woman in the world, the bravest, the +most forgiving. I will not disappoint you."</p> + +<p>His bitterness and shame vanished, his +fists clinched in new resolution. "You are +right. I can write another play, and I will. +My critics shall laugh from the other side of +their mouths. They shall not have the satisfaction +of knowing that they have even +wounded me. I will justify your faith in +my powers. I will set to work to-morrow—this +very night—on a new play. I will make +you proud of me yet, Helen, my queen, my +love." With that word all his doubts vanished. +"Yes, I love her, and I will win her."</p> + +<p>In the glow of his love-born resolution he +began to search among his papers for an +unfinished scenario called <i>Enid's Choice</i>. +When he had found it he set to work upon it +with a concentration that seemed uncanny in +the light of his day's distraction and dismay. +<i>Lillian's Duty</i> and the evening's bitter failure +had already grown dim in his mind.</p> + +<p>Helen's understanding of him was precise. +He was of those who never really capitulate +to the storm, no matter how deeply they may +sink at times in the trough of the sea. As +everything had been against him up to that +moment, he was not really taken by surprise. +All his life he had gone directly against the +advice and wishes of his family. He had +studied architecture rather than medicine, and +had set his face towards the East rather than +the West. Every dollar he had spent he had +earned by toil, and the things he loved had +always seemed the wasteful and dangerous +things. He wrote plays in secret when he +should have been soliciting commissions for +warehouses, and read novels when he should +have been intent upon his business.</p> + +<p>"It was impossible that I should succeed so +quickly, so easily, even with the help of one +so powerful as Helen Merival. It is my fate +to work for what I get." And with this return +of his belief that to himself alone he must +look for victory, his self-poise and self-confidence +came back.</p> + +<p>He looked strong, happy, and very handsome +next morning as he greeted the clerk +of the Embric, who had no guile in his voice +as he said:</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Douglass. I hear that +your play made a big hit last night."</p> + +<p>"I reckon it hit something," he replied, +with easy evasion.</p> + +<p>The clerk continued: "My wife's sister was +there. She liked it very much."</p> + +<p>"I am very glad she did," replied Douglass, +heartily. As he walked over towards the elevator +a couple of young men accosted him.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Douglass. We are +from <i>The Blazon</i>. We would like to get a little +talk out of you about last night's performance. +How do you feel about the verdict."</p> + +<p>"It was a 'frost,'" replied Douglass, with +engaging candor, "but I don't consider the +verdict final. I am not at all discouraged. +You see, it's all in getting a hearing. Miss +Merival gave my play a superb production, +and her impersonation ought to fill the theatre, +even if <i>Lillian's Duty</i> were an indifferent +play, which it is not. Miss Merival, in changing +the entire tone and character of her work, +must necessarily disappoint a certain type +of admirer. Last night's audience was very +largely made up of those who hate serious +drama, and naturally they did not like my +text. All that is a detail. We will create +our own audience."</p> + +<p>The reporters carried away a vivid impression +of the author's youth, strength, and confidence, +and one of them sat down to convey +to the public his admiration in these +words:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Mr. Douglass is a Western man, and boldly +shies his buckskin into the arena and invites +the keenest of his critics to take it up. If any +one thinks the 'roast' of his play has even +singed the author's wings, he is mistaken. He +is very much pleased with himself. As he +says, a hearing is a great thing. He may be +a chopping-block, but he don't look it."</p></div> + +<p>Helen met her playwright with an anxious, +tired look upon her face, but when he touched +her fingers to his lips and said, "At your service, +my lady," she laughed in radiant, sudden +relief.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I'm glad to see you looking so +gay and strong. I was heart-sore for you last +night. I fancied you in all kinds of torture."</p> + +<p>His face darkened. "I was. My blue +devils assailed me, but I vanquished them, +thanks to your note," he added, with a burning +glance deep-sent, and his voice fell to a +tenderness which betrayed his heart. "I +think you are the most tolerant star that ever +put out a hand to a poor author. What a +beast I was to run away! But I couldn't help +it then. I wanted to see you, but I couldn't +face Westervelt and Royleston. I couldn't +endure to hear them say, 'I told you so.' +You understood, I'm sure of it."</p> + +<p>She studied him with admiring eyes. "Yes, +I understood—later. At first I was crushed. +It shook my faith in you for a little while." +She put off this mood (whose recollected +shadows translated into her face filled +Douglass's throat with remorse) and a smile +disclosed her returning sense of humor. "Oh, +Hugh and Westervelt are angry—perfectly +purple with indignation against you for leading +me into a trap—"</p> + +<p>"I feared that. That is why I begged you +to throw my play—"</p> + +<p>She laid a finger on her lips, for Mrs. MacDavitt +came in. "Mother, here is Mr. Douglass. +I told you he would come. I hope you are +hungry. Let us take our places. Hugh is fairly +used up this morning. Do you see that bunch +of papers?" she asked, pointing at a ragged pile. +"After breakfast we take our medicine."</p> + +<p>"No," he said, firmly. "I have determined +not to read a line of them. To every word +you speak I will listen, but I will not be harrowed +up by a hodgepodge of personal prejudices +written by my enemies before the play +was produced or in a hurried hour between +the fall of the curtain and going to press. I +know too much about how these judgments +are cooked up. I saw the faults of the play +a good deal clearer than did any of those +sleepy gentlemen who came to the theatre +surfeited and weary and resentful of your +change of programme."</p> + +<p>She looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you are +right," she said, at last. "I will not read +them. I know what they will say—"</p> + +<p>"I thought the play was very beautiful," said +Mrs. MacDavitt. "And my Nellie was grand."</p> + +<p>Helen patted her mother's hand. "We +have one loyal supporter, Mr. Douglass."</p> + +<p>"Ye've many more, if the truth were +known," said the old mother, stoutly, for she +liked young Douglass.</p> + +<p>"I believe that," cried Helen. "Did you +consider that as I change my rôles and plays +I must also, to a large extent, change my audience? +The people who like me as <i>Baroness +Telka</i> are amazed and angered by your play. +They will not come to see me. But there are +others," she added, with a smile at the slang +phrase.</p> + +<p>"I thought of that, but not till last night."</p> + +<p>"It will take longer to inform and interest +our new public than any of us realized. I am +determined to keep <i>Lillian</i> on for at least +four weeks. Meanwhile you can prune it +and set to work on a new one. Have you a +theme?"</p> + +<p>"I have a scenario," he triumphantly answered. +"I worked it out this morning between +two o'clock and four."</p> + +<p>She reached her hand to him impulsively, and +as he took it a warm flush came into her face +and her eyes were suffused with happy tears.</p> + +<p>"That's brave," she said. "I told them +you could not be crushed. I knew you were +of those who fight hardest when closest pressed. +You must tell me about it at once—not +this minute, of course, but when we are alone."</p> + +<p>When Hugh came in a few minutes later he +found them discussing a new automobile which +had just made a successful trial run. The +play became the topic of conversation again, +but on a different plane.</p> + +<p>Hugh was blunt, but not so abusive as he +had declared his intention to be. "There's +nothing in <i>Lillian</i>," he said—"not a dollar. +We're throwing our money away. We might +better close the theatre. We won't have fifty +dollars in the house to-night. It's all right +as a story, but it won't do for the stage."</p> + +<p>Douglass kept his temper. "It was too +long; but I can better that in a few hours. +I'll have a much closer-knit action by Wednesday +night."</p> + +<p>As they were rising from the table Westervelt +entered with a face like a horse, so long +and lax was it. "They have burned us alive!" +he exclaimed, as he sank into a chair and +mopped his red neck. He shook like a gelatine +pudding, and Helen could not repress a smile.</p> + +<p>"Your mistake was in reading them. We +burned the critics."</p> + +<p>The manager stared in vast amaze. "You +didn't read the papers?"</p> + +<p>"Not one."</p> + +<p>"Well, they say—"</p> + +<p>She stopped him. "Don't tell me what they +say—not a word. We did our best and we did +good work, and will do better to-night, so +don't come here like a bird of ill-omen, Herr +Westervelt. Go kill the critics if you feel like +it, but don't worry us with tales of woe. Our +duty is to the play. We cannot afford to +waste nervous energy writhing under criticism. +What is said is said, and repeating it +only hurts us all." Her tone became friendly. +"Really, you take it too hard. It is only a +matter of a few thousand dollars at the worst, +and to free you from all further anxiety I will +assume the entire risk. I will rent your +theatre."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" cried Hugh. "We can't afford +to do that."</p> + +<p>"We can't afford to do less. I insist," she +replied, firmly.</p> + +<p>The manager lifted his fat shoulders in a +convulsive shrug. His face indicated despair +of her folly. "Good Gott! Well, you +are the doctor, only remember there will not +be one hundred people in the house to-night." +He began to recover speech. "Think of that! +Helen Merival playing to empty chairs—in +<i>my</i> theatre. Himmel!"</p> + +<p>"It is sad, I confess, but not hopeless, Herr +Westervelt. We must work the harder to let +the thoughtful people of the city know what +we are trying to do."</p> + +<p>"Thoughtful people!" Again his scorn ran +beyond his words for a moment and his tongue +grew German. "Doughtful beople. Dey dondt +bay dwo tollors fer seats! <i>Our</i> pusiness iss to +attract the rich—the gay theatre-goers. Who +is going to pring a theatre-barty to see a sermon +on the stage—hay?"</p> + +<p>"You are unjust to <i>Lillian's Duty</i>. It is +not a sermon; it is a powerful acting play—the +best part, from a purely acting standpoint, +I have ever undertaken to do. But +we will not discuss that now. The venture +is my own, and you will be safe-guarded. I +will instruct my brother to make the new +arrangement at once."</p> + +<p>With a final, despairing shrug the manager +rose and went out, and Helen, turning an +amused face to Douglass, asked, humorously: +"Isn't he the typical manager?—in the clouds +to-day, stuck in the mud to-morrow. Sometimes +he is excruciatingly funny, and then he +disgusts me. They're almost all alike. If +business should be unexpectedly good to-night +he would be a man transformed. His face +would shine, he would grasp every actor by +the hand, he would fairly fall upon your neck; +but if business went down ten dollars on +Wednesday night then look for the 'icy mitt' +again. Big as he is he curls up like a sensitive +plant when touched by adversity. He can't +help it; he's really a child—a big, fat boy. +But come, we must now consider the cuts for +<i>Lillian</i>; then to our scenario."</p> + +<p>As the attendants whisked away the breakfast +things Helen brought out the original +manuscript of <i>Lillian's Duty</i>, and took a seat +beside her playwright. "Now, what is the +matter with the first act?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"I agree. What is out in the second?"</p> + +<p>"Needs cutting."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Here and here and here," he answered, +turning the leaves rapidly.</p> + +<p>"I felt it. I couldn't hold them there. +Royleston's part wants the knife badly. +Now, the third act?"</p> + +<p>"It is too diffuse, and the sociologic background +gets obstinately into the foreground. +As I sat there last night I saw that the interest +was too abstract, too impersonal for the ordinary +play-goer. I can better that. The fourth +act must be entirely rewritten. I will do that +this afternoon."</p> + +<p>She faced him, glowing with recovered joy +and recovered confidence. "Now you are +Richard once again upon his horse."</p> + +<p>"A hobby horse," he answered, with a +laugh, then sobered. "In truth, my strength +comes from you. At least you roused me. I +was fairly in the grasp of the Evil One when +your note came. Your splendid confidence +set me free. It was beautiful of you to write +me after I had sneaked away like a wounded +coyote. I cannot tell you what your letter +was to me."</p> + +<p>She held up a finger. "Hush! No more +of that. We are forgetting, and you are becoming +personal." She said this in a tone +peculiarly at variance with the words. "Now +read me the scenario of the new play. I am +eager to know what has moved you, set you on +high again."</p> + +<p>The creative fire began to glow in his eyes. +"This is to be as individual, as poetic, as the +other was sociologic. The character you are +to play is that of a young girl who knows nothing +of life, but a great deal of books. <i>Enid's</i> +whole world is revealed by the light which +streams from the window of a convent library—a +gray, cold light with deep shadows. She is +tall and pale and severe of line, but her blue +eyes are deep and brooding. Her father, a +Western mine-owner, losing his second wife, +calls on his daughter to return from the Canadian +convent in which she has spent seven +years. She takes her position as an heiress in +his great house. She is plunged at once into the +midst of a pleasure-seeking, thoughtless throng +of young people whose interests in life seem to +her to be grossly material. She becomes the +prey of adventurers, male and female, and has +nothing but her innate purity to defend her. +Ultimately there come to her two men who +type the forces at war around her, and she is +forced to choose between them."</p> + +<p>As he outlined this new drama the mind of +the actress took hold of <i>Enid's</i> character, so +opposite in energy to <i>Lillian</i>, and its great +possibilities exalted her, filled her with admiration +for the mind which could so quickly +create a new character.</p> + +<p>"I see I shall never want for parts while +you are my playwright," she said, when he +had finished.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can write—so long as I have you to +write for and to work for," he replied. "You +are the greatest woman in the world. Your +faith in me, your forgiveness of my cowardice, +have given me a sense of power—"</p> + +<p>She spoke quickly and with an effort to +smile. "We are getting personal again."</p> + +<p>He bowed to the reminder. "I beg your +pardon. I will not offend again."</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/145-cap.png" alt="H" title="H" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">ELEN'S</span> warning was not as +playful as it seemed to her +lover, for something in the +glow of his eyes and something +vibrant in the tones of +his voice had disturbed her profoundly. The +fear of something which he seemed perilously +near saying filled her with unrest, bringing +up questions which had thus far been kept in +the background of her scheme of life.</p> + +<p>"Some time I shall marry, I suppose," she +had said to one of her friends, "but not now; +my art will not permit it. Wedlock to an +actress," she added, "is almost as significant +as death. It may mean an end of her playing—a +death to her ambitions. When I decide +to marry I shall also decide to give up the +stage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," replied the other. +"There are plenty who do not. In fact, +Mary Anderson is the exception. When the +conquering one comes along you'll marry him +and make him your leading man, the way so +many others do."</p> + +<p>"When 'the conquering one' comes along I +shall despise the stage," retorted Helen, with +laughing eyes—"at least I'm told I will."</p> + +<p>"Pish! You'd give a dozen husbands for +the joy of facing a big first-night audience. I +tell Horace that if it comes to a matter of +choice for me he'll have to go. Gracious goodness! +I could no more live without the applause +of the stage—"</p> + +<p>"How about the children?"</p> + +<p>"The children! Oh, that's different. The +dear tots! Well, luckily, they're not absolutely +barred. It's hard to leave the darlings +behind. When I go on the road I miss their +sweet little caresses; but I have to earn their +bread, you see, and what better career is open +to me."</p> + +<p>Helen grew grave also. "I don't like to +think of myself as an <i>old</i> actress. I want to +have a fixed abiding-place when I am forty-five. +Gray hairs should shine in the light of a +fireside."</p> + +<p>"There's always peroxide," put in the +other, and their little mood of seriousness +vanished.</p> + +<p>It was, indeed, a very unusual situation for +a young and charming actress. The Hotel +Embric stood just where three great streams +of wealth and power and fashion met and mingled. +Its halls rustled with the spread silks +of pride and glittered with the jewels of spendthrift +vanity, and yet few knew that high in +the building one of the most admired women +of the city lived in almost monastic seclusion. +The few men who recognized her in the elevator +or in the hall bowed with deferential +admiration. She was never seen in the +dining-rooms, and it was known that she +denied herself to all callers except a very +few intimate friends.</p> + +<p>This seclusion—this close adherence to her +work—added to her mystery, and her allurement +in the eyes of her suitors increased as +they sought vainly for an introduction. It +was reported that this way of life was "all a +matter of business, a cold, managerial proposition," +a method of advertising; but so far as +Helen herself was implicated, it was a method +of protection.</p> + +<p>She had an instinctive dislike, almost a fear, +of those who sought her acquaintance, and +when Westervelt, with blundering tactlessness +or impudent design, brought round some +friends, she froze them both with a single +glance.</p> + +<p>Furthermore, by denying herself to one she +was able to escape the other, and thus save +herself for her work; for though she had grown +to hate the plays through which she reached +the public, she believed in the power and the +dignity of her art. It was a means of livelihood, +it gratified her vanity; but it was more +than this. In a dim way she felt herself in +league with a mighty force, and the desire to +mark an epoch in the American drama came +to her. This, too, was a form of egotism, but +a high form.</p> + +<p>"I do not care to return to the old," she +said. "There are plenty of women to do +<i>Beatrice</i> and <i>Viola</i> and <i>Lady Macbeth</i>. I am +modern. I believe in the modern and I believe +in America. I don't care to start a fad for +Ibsen or Shaw. I would like to develop our +own drama."</p> + +<p>"You will have to eliminate the tired business-man +and his fat wife and their late dinners," +said a cynical friend.</p> + +<p>"All business-men are not tired and all +wives are not fat. I believe there is a public +ready to pay their money to see good American +drama. I have found a man who can +write—"</p> + +<p>"Beware of that man," said the cynic, with +a twofold meaning in his tone. "'He is a +dreamer; let him pass.'"</p> + +<p>"I do not fear him," she replied, with a +gay smile.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/151-cap.png" alt="D" title="D" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">OUGLASS</span> now set to work +on his second play with teeth +clinched. "I will win out in +spite of them," he said. "They +think I am beaten, but I am +just beginning to fight." As the days wore +on his self-absorption became more and more +marked. All his morning hours were spent +at his writing, and when he came to Helen he +was cold and listless, and talked of nothing +but <i>Enid</i> and her troubles. Even as they +rode in the park his mind seemed forever revolving +lines and scenes. In the midst of her +attempt to amuse him, to divert him, he returned +to his theme. He invited her judgments +and immediately forgot to listen, so +morbidly self-centred was he.</p> + +<p>He made no further changes in the book of +<i>Lillian's Duty</i>, but put aside Westervelt's request +with a wave of his hand. "I leave all +that to Miss Merival," he said. "I can't give +it any thought now."</p> + +<p>From one point of view Helen could not but +admire this power of concentration, but when +she perceived that her playwright's work had +filled his mind to the exclusion of herself she +began to suffer. Her pride resented his indifference, +and she was saved from anger and +disgust only by the beauty of the writing he +brought to her.</p> + +<p>"The fury of the poet is on him. I must not +complain," she thought, and yet a certain regret +darkened her face. "All that was so +sweet and fine has passed out of our intercourse," +she sadly admitted to herself. "I am +no longer even the great actress to him. Once +he worshipped me—I felt it; now I am a +commonplace friend. Is the fault in me? +Am I one whom familiarity lessens in +value?"</p> + +<p>She did not permit herself to think that this +was a lasting change, that he had forever +passed beyond the lover, and that she would +never again fill his world with mystery and +light and longing.</p> + +<p>And yet this monstrous recession was the +truth. In the stress of his work the glamour +had utterly died out of Douglass's conception +of Helen, just as the lurid light of her old-time +advertising had faded from the bill-boards and +from the window displays of Broadway. As +cold, black, and gray instantaneous photographs +had taken the place of the gorgeous, +jewel-bedecked, elaborate lithographs of the +old plays, so now his thought of her was without +warmth.</p> + +<p>Helen became aware, too, of an outside +change. Her friends used this as a further +warning.</p> + +<p>"You are becoming commonplace to the +public," one said, with a touch of bitterness. +"Your admirers no longer wonder. Go back +to the glitter and the glory."</p> + +<p>"No," she replied. "I will regain my place, +and with my own unaided character—and +my lines," she added, with a return to her +faith in Douglass.</p> + +<p>And yet her meetings with him were now a +species of torture. Her self-respect suffered +with every glance of his eyes. He resembled +a man suffering from a fever. At times he +talked with tiresome intensity about some new +situation, quoting his own characters, beating +and hammering at his scenes until Helen +closed her eyes for very weariness. Only at +wide intervals did he return to some dim +realization of his indebtedness to her. One +day he gratified her by saying, with a note of +tenderness in his voice: "You are keeping the +old play on; don't do it. Throw it away; it +is a tract—a sermon." Then spoiled it all by +bitterly adding, "Go back to your old successes."</p> + +<p>"You used to dislike me in such rôles," she +answered, with pain and reproach in face and +voice.</p> + +<p>"It will only be for a little while," he replied, +with a swift return to his enthusiasm. +"In two weeks I'll have the new part ready +for you." But the sting of his advice remained +long in the proud woman's heart.</p> + +<p>He went no more to the theatre. "I can't +bear to see you playing to empty seats," he +declared, in explanation, but in reality he had +a horror of the scene of his defeat.</p> + +<p>He came to lunch less often, and when they +went driving or visiting the galleries all the +old-time, joyous companionship was gone. +Not infrequently, as they stood before some +picture or sat at a concert, he would whisper, +"I have it; the act will end with <i>Enid</i> doing +so-and-so," and not infrequently he hurried +away from her to catch some fugitive illumination +which he feared to lose. He came +to her reception-room only once of a Saturday +afternoon, just before the play +closed.</p> + +<p>"How is the house?" he asked, with indifference.</p> + +<p>"Bad."</p> + +<p>"Very bad?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes."</p> + +<p>"I must work the harder," he replied, and +sank into a sombre silence. He never came +inside again.</p> + +<p>Helen was deeply wounded by this visit, +and was sorely tempted to take him at his +word and end the production, but she did not. +She could not, so deep had her interest in him +become. Loyal to him she must remain, loyal +to his work.</p> + +<p>As his bank account grew perilously small, +Douglass fell into deeps of black despair, +wherein all imaginative power left him. At +such times the lack of depth and significance +in his work appalled him. "It is hopelessly +poor and weak; it does not deserve to succeed. +I've a mind to tear it in rags." But he resisted +this spirit, partly restrained by some +hidden power traceable to the influence of +Helen and partly by his desire to retrieve himself +in the estimation of the world, but mainly +because of some hidden force in his own brain, +and set to work each time filing and polishing +with renewed care of word and phrase.</p> + +<p>Slowly the second drama took on form and +quality, developing a web of purpose not unlike +that involved in a strain of solemn music, +and at the last the author's attention was +directed towards eliminating minute inharmonies +or to the insertion of cacophony with +design to make the <i>andante</i> passages the more +enthrallingly sweet. As the play neared completion +his absorption began to show results. +He lost vigor, and Helen's eyes took anxious +note of his weariness. "You are growing thin +and white, Mr. Author," she said to him, with +solicitude in her voice. "You don't look like +the rugged Western Scotchman you were when +I found you. Am I to be your vampire?"</p> + +<p>"On the contrary, I am to destroy you, to +judge from the money you are losing on my +wretched play. I begin to fear I can never +repay you, not even with a great success. I +have days when I doubt my power to write a +successful drama."</p> + +<p>"You work too hard. You must not ruin +your health by undue haste. A week or two +will not make a killing difference with us. I +don't mind playing <i>Lillian</i> another month, +if you need the time. It is good discipline, +and, besides, I enjoy the part."</p> + +<p>"That is because you are good and loyal +to a poor writer," he answered, with a break +to humble appreciation of her bounty and her +bravery. "Be patient with me," he pleaded. +"<i>Enid</i> will recoup you for all you have suffered. +It will win back all your funds. I have +made it as near pure poetry as our harsh, +definite life and our elliptical speech will permit." +And straightway his mind was filled +with dreams of conquering, even while he +faced his love, so strangely are courtship and +ambition mingled in the heart of man.</p> + +<p>At last he began to exult, to boast, to call +attention to the beauty of the lines spoken by +<i>Enid</i>. "See how her simplicity and virginal +charm are enhanced by the rugged, remorseless +strength, and by the conscienceless greed +of the men surrounding her, and yet she +sees in them something admirable. They are +like soldiers to her. They are the heroes who +tunnel mountains and bridge cataracts. When +she looks from her slender, white hands to +their gross and powerful bodies she shudders +with a sort of fearsome admiration."</p> + +<p>"Can all that appear in the lines?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. In the lines and in the acting; it +<i>must</i> appear in your acting," he added, with +a note of admonition.</p> + +<p>Her face clouded with pain. "He begins +to doubt my ability to delineate his work," +she thought, and turned away in order that +he might not know how deeply he had wounded +her.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/160-cap.png" alt="H" title="H" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">ELEN'S</span> pride contended unceasingly +with her love during +the weeks of her lover's alienation; +for, with all her sweet +dispraise of herself, she was +very proud of her place in the world, and it +was not easy to bow her head to neglect. +Sometimes when he forgot to answer her or +rushed away to his room with a hasty good-bye, +she raged with a perfectly justifiable +anger. "You are selfish and brutal," she +cried out after him on one occasion. "You +think only of yourself. You are vain, egotistical. +All that I have done is forgotten the +moment you are stung by criticism," and +she tried to put him aside. "What do his +personal traits matter to me?" she said, as if +in answer to her own charge. "He is my +dramatist, not my husband."</p> + +<p>But when he came back to her, an absent-minded +smile upon his handsome lips, holding +in his hands some pages of exquisite dialogue, +she humbled herself before him. "After all, +what am I beside him? He is a poet, a creative +mind, while I am only a mimic," and +straightway she began to make excuses for +him. "Have I not always had the same selfish, +desperate concentration? Am I always +a sweet and lovely companion? Certainly the +artistic temperament is not a strange thing to +me."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she suffered. It was hard to +be the one optimist in the midst of so many +pessimists. The nightly performance to an +empty house wore on her most distressingly, +and no wonder. She, who had never hitherto +given a moment's troubled thought to such +matters, now sat in her dressing-room listening +to the infrequent, hollow clang of the falling +chair seats, attempting thus to estimate +the audience straggling sparsely, desolately in. +To re-enter the stage after an exit was like +an icy shower-bath. Each night she hoped +to find the receipts larger, and indeed they did +from time to time advance suddenly, only to +drop back to desolating driblets the following +night. These gains were due to the work +of the loyal Hugh as advertising agent, or +to some desperate discount sale to a club +on the part of Westervelt, who haunted the +front of the house, a pale and flabby wraith +of himself, racking his brain, swearing strange, +German oaths, and perpetually conjuring up +new advertising devices. His suffering approached +the tragic.</p> + +<p>His theatre, which had once rustled with +gay and cheerful people, was now cold, echoing, +empty, repellent. Nothing came from +the balcony, wherein Helen's sweet voice wandered, +save a faint, half-hearted hand-clapping. +No one sat in the boxes, and only here +and there a man wore evening-dress. The +women were always intense, but undemonstrative. +Under these sad conditions the +music of the orchestra became factitious, a +brazen clatter raised to reinforce the courage +of the ushers, who flitted about like uneasy +spirits. There were no carriages in waiting, +and the audience returned to the street in +silence like funeral guests from a church.</p> + +<p>Hugh remained bravely at his post in front. +Each night after a careful toilet he took his +stand in the lobby watching with calculating +eye and impassive face the stream of +people rushing by his door. "If we could +only catch one in a hundred?" he said to +Westervelt. "I never expected to see Helen +Merival left like this. I didn't think it possible. +I thought she could make any piece go. +To play to fifty dollars was out of my reckoning. +It is slaughter."</p> + +<p>Once his disgust topped all restraint, and +he burst forth to Helen: "Look at this man +Douglass. He bamboozles us into producing +his play, then runs off and leaves us to sink +or swim. He won't even change the lines—says +he's working on a new one that will make +us all 'barrels of money.' That's the way of +these dramatists—always full of some new +pipe-dream. Meanwhile we're going into the +hole every night. I can't stand it. We were +making all kinds of money with <i>The Baroness</i>. +Come, let's go back to it!" His voice +filled with love, for she was his ideal. "Sis, I +hate to see you doing this. It cuts me to the +heart. Why, some of these newspaper shads +actually pretend to pity you—you, the greatest +romantic actress in America! This man +Douglass has got you hypnotized. Honestly, +there's something uncanny about the way he +has queered you. Brace up. Send him whirling. +He isn't worth a minute of your time, +Nellie—now, that's the fact. He's a crazy +freak. Say the word and I'll fire him and +his misbegotten plays to-night."</p> + +<p>To this Helen made simple reply. "No, +Hugh; I intend to stand to my promise. We +will keep <i>Lillian</i> on till the new play is ready. +It would be unfair to Mr. Douglass—"</p> + +<p>"But he has lost all interest in it himself. +He never shows up in front, never makes a +suggestion."</p> + +<p>"He is saving all his energy for the new play."</p> + +<p>Hugh's lips twisted in scorn. "The new +play! Yes, he's filled with a lot of pale-blue +moonshine now. He's got another 'idea.' +That's the trouble with these literary chaps, +they're so swelled by their own notions they +can't write what the common audience wants. +His new play will be a worse 'frost' than this. +You'll ruin us all if you don't drop him. We +stand to lose forty thousand dollars on <i>Lillian</i> +already."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, I shall give the new play a +production," she replied, and Hugh turned +away in speechless dismay and disgust.</p> + +<p>The papers were filled with stinging allusions +to her failure. A shrewd friend from +Boston met her with commiseration in her +face. "It's a good play and a fine part," she +said, "but they don't want you in such work. +They like you when you look wicked."</p> + +<p>"I know that, but I'm tired of playing the +wanton adventuress for such people. I want +to appeal to a more thoughtful public for the +rest of my stage career."</p> + +<p>"Why not organize a church like Mrs. +Allinger?" sneered another less friendly critic. +"The stage is no place for sermons."</p> + +<p>"You are horribly unjust. <i>Lillian's Duty</i> +is a powerful acting drama, and has its audience +if I could reach it. Perhaps I'm not the +one to do Mr. Douglass's work, after all," she +added, humbly.</p> + +<p>Deep in her heart Helen MacDavitt the +woman was hungry for some one to tell her +that he loved her. She longed to put her head +down on a strong man's breast to weep. "If +Douglass would only open his arms to me I +would go to him. I would not care what the +world says."</p> + +<p>She wished to see him reinstate himself not +merely with the public but in her own estimate +of him. As she believed that by means +of his pen he would conquer, she comprehended +that his present condition was fevered, +unnatural, and she hoped—she believed—it to +be temporary. "Success will bring back the +old, brave, sanguine, self-contained Douglass +whose forthright power and self-confidence +won my admiration," she said, and with this +secret motive to sustain her she went to her +nightly delineation of <i>Lillian</i>.</p> + +<p>She had lived long without love, and her +heart now sought for it with an intensity +which made her art of the highest account +only as served the man she loved. Praise and +publicity were alike of no value unless they +brought success and happiness to him whose +eyes called her with growing power.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/168-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">T</span> last the new play was finished +and the author brought it and +laid it in the hands of the actress +as if it were a new-born +child, and her heart leaped +with joy. He was no longer the stern and +self-absorbed writer. His voice was tender as +he said, "I give this to you in the hope that +it may regain for you what you have lost."</p> + +<p>The tears sprang to Helen's eyes, and a +word of love rose to her lips. "It is very +beautiful, and we will triumph in it."</p> + +<p>He seemed about to speak some revealing, +sealing word, but the presence of the mother +restrained him. Helen, recognizing the returning +tide of his love, to which she related +no self-seeking, was radiant.</p> + +<p>"Come, we will put it in rehearsal at once," +she said. "I know you are as eager to have +it staged as I. I will not read it. I will wait +till you read it for the company to-morrow +morning."</p> + +<p>"I do not go to that ordeal with the same +joy as before," he admitted.</p> + +<p>The company met him with far less of interest +in this reading of the second play, and +his own manner was distinctly less confident. +Hugh and Westervelt maintained silence, but +their opposition was as palpable as a cold +wind. Royleston's cynical face expressed an +open contempt. The lesser people were anxious +to know the kind of characters they were +to play, and a few were sympathetically eager +to hear the play itself.</p> + +<p>He read the manuscript with some assurance +of manner, but made no suggestion as to the +stage business, contenting himself with producing +an effect on the minds of the principals; +but as the girlish charm of <i>Enid's</i> character +made itself felt, the women of the company +began to glow.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's very beautiful!" they exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Hugh, on the scent for another "problem," +began to relax, and even Westervelt grunted a +few words of approval, qualified at once by +the whispered words, "Not a cent in it—not a +cent." Royleston, between his acts, regarded +the air with dreamy gaze. "I don't see myself +in that part yet, but it's very good—very +good."</p> + +<p>The reading closed rather well, producing +the desired effect of "happy tears" on the +faces of several of the feminine members of +the cast, and Helen again spoke of her pleasure +in such work and asked them to "lend themselves" +to the lines. "This play is a kind +of poem," she said, "and makes a direct +appeal to women, and yet I believe it +will also win its way to the hearts of the +men."</p> + +<p>As they rose Douglass returned the manuscript +to Helen with a bow. "I renounce all +rights. Hereafter I am but a spectator."</p> + +<p>"I think you are right in not attempting +rehearsals. You are worn and tired. Why +don't you go away for a time? A sea voyage +would do you good."</p> + +<p>"No, I must stay and face the music, as my +father used to say. I do not wish to seem to +run away, and, besides, I may be able to offer +a suggestion now and then."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't mean to have you miss the +first night. You could come back for that. +If you stay we will be glad of any suggestion +at any time—won't we, Hugh?"</p> + +<p>Hugh refused to be brought into any marked +agreement. "Of course, the author's advice +is valuable, but with a man like Olquest—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see a single rehearsal," replied +Douglass. "I want to have the joy +this time of seeing my characters on the opening +night fully embodied. If the success of +the play depended upon my personal supervision, +the case would be different, but it +doesn't. I trust you and Olquest. I will +keep away."</p> + +<p>Again they went to lunch together, but the +old-time elation was sadly wanting. Hugh +was silent and Douglass gloomy. Helen cut +the luncheon for a ride in the park, which did +them good, for the wind was keen and inspiriting +and the landscape wintry white and +blue and gold. She succeeded in provoking +her playwright to a smile now and then by +some audacious sally against the sombre silence +of her cavaliers.</p> + +<p>They halted for half an hour in the upper +park while she called the squirrels to her and +fed them from her own hands—those wonderful +hands that had so often lured with jewels +and threatened with steel. No one seeing this +refined, sweet woman in tasteful furs would +have related her with the <i>Gismonda</i> and <i>Istar</i>, +but Douglass thrilled with sudden accession +of confidence. "How beautiful she will be +as <i>Enid</i>!" he thought, as, with a squirrel on +her shoulder, she turned with shining face +to softly call: "This is David. Isn't he a +dear?"</p> + +<p>She waited until the keen-eyed rascals had +taken her last nut, then slowly returned +to the carriage side. "I like to win animals +like that. It thrills my heart to have +them set their fearless little feet on my +arm."</p> + +<p>Hugh uttered a warning. "You want to +be careful how you handle them; they bite +like demons."</p> + +<p>"Oh, now, don't spoil it!" she exclaimed. +"I'm sure they know me and trust me."</p> + +<p>Douglass was moved to their defence, and +strove during the remainder of the ride to +add to Helen's pleasure; and this effort on his +part made her eyes shine with joy—a joy +almost pathetic in its intensity.</p> + +<p>As they parted at the door of his hotel he +said: "If you do not succeed this time I will +utterly despair of the public. I know how +sweet you will be as <i>Enid</i>. They must bow +down before you as I do."</p> + +<p>"I will give my best powers to this—be +sure nothing will be neglected at rehearsal."</p> + +<p>"I know you will," he answered, feelingly.</p> + +<p>She was better than her promise, laboring +tirelessly in the effort to embody through her +company the poetry, the charm, which lay +even in the smaller rôles of the play. That +one so big and brusque as Douglass should be +able to define so many and such fugitive feminine +emotions was a constant source of wonder +and delight to her. The discovery gave +her trust and confidence in him, and to her +admiration of his power was added something +which stole into her mind like music, causing +foolish dreams and moments of reckless exaltation +wherein she asked herself whether to +be a great actress was not, after all, a thing of +less profit than to be a wife and mother.</p> + +<p>She saw much less of him than she wished, +for Hugh remained coldly unresponsive in his +presence, and threw over their meetings a restraint +which prevented the joyous companionship +of their first acquaintanceship.</p> + +<p>More than this, Helen was conscious of being +watched and commented upon, not merely +by Hugh and Westervelt, but by guests of +the hotel and representatives of the society +press. Douglass, in order to shield her, and +also because his position in the world was +less secure than ever, returned to his self-absorbed, +impersonal manner of speech. He +took no part in the rehearsals, except to rush +in at the close with some changes which he +wished embodied at once, regardless of the +vexation and confusion resulting. His brain +was still perilously active, and not only cut +and refined the dialogue, but made most radical +modifications of the "business."</p> + +<p>Helen began to show the effects of the strain +upon her; for she was not merely carrying the +burden of <i>Lillian's Duty</i>, and directing rehearsals +of the new piece—she was deeply involved +in the greatest problem than can come +to a woman. She loved Douglass; but did +she love him strongly enough to warrant her +in saying so—when he should ask her?</p> + +<p>His present poverty she put aside as of no +serious account. A man so physically powerful, +so mentally alert, was rich in possibilities. +The work which he had already done +entitled him to rank above millionaires, but +that his very forcefulness, his strong will, his +dominating idealism would make him her +master—would inevitably change her relation +to the world—had already changed it, +in fact—she was not ready to acknowledge.</p> + +<p>Up to this time her love for the stage had +been single-minded. No man had touched +her heart with sufficient fire to disturb her +serenity, but now she was not merely following +where he led, she was questioning the +value and morality of her avocation.</p> + +<p>"If I cannot play high rôles, if the public +will not have me in work like this I am now +rehearsing, then I will retire to private life. +I will no longer be a plaything for the man-headed +monster," she said one day.</p> + +<p>"You should have retired before sinking +your good money in these Douglass plays," +Hugh bitterly rejoined. "It looks now as +though we might end in the police station."</p> + +<p>"I have no fear of that, Hugh; I am perfectly +certain that <i>Enid</i> is to regain all our +losses."</p> + +<p>"I wish I had your beautiful faith," he +made answer, and walked away.</p> + +<p>Westervelt said little to her during these +days; he only looked, and his doleful gestures, +his lugubrious grimaces, were comic. He +stood to lose nothing, except possible profits +for Helen. She was paying him full rental, +but he claimed that his house was being +ruined. "It will get the reputation of doing +nothing but failures," he said to her once, in a +last despairing appeal, and to this she replied:</p> + +<p>"Very well. If at the end of four weeks +<i>Enid</i> does not pull up to paying business I +will release you from your contract. I will +free your house of Helen Merival."</p> + +<p>"No, no! I don't want that. I want you, +but I do not want this crazy man Douglass. +You must not leave me!" His voice grew +husky with appeal. "Return to the old plays, +sign a five-year contract, and I will make you +again rich."</p> + +<p>"There will be time to consider that four +weeks hence."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the season is passing."</p> + +<p>"Courage, mein Herr!" she said, with a +smile, and left him almost in tears.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/179-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">S</span> the opening night of <i>Enid's +Choice</i> drew near, Douglass suffered +greater anxiety but experienced +far less of nervous excitement +than before. He was +shaking rather than tense of limb, and did +not find it necessary to walk the streets to +calm his physical excitement. He was depressed +by the knowledge that a second defeat +would leave him not merely discredited +but practically penniless. Nevertheless, he +did not hide; on the contrary, he took a seat +in one of the boxes.</p> + +<p>The audience he at once perceived was of +totally different character and temper from +that which greeted <i>Lillian</i>. It was quiet and +moderate in size, rather less than the capacity +of the orchestra seats, for Helen had asked +that no "paper" be distributed. Very few +were in the gallery, and those who were had +the quietly expectant air of students. Only +three of the boxes were occupied. The fashionables +were entirely absent.</p> + +<p>Plainly these people were in their seats +out of interest in the play or because of the +known power of the actress. They were +not flushed with wine nor heavy with late +dinners.</p> + +<p>The critics were out again in force, and this +gave the young author a little satisfaction, +for their presence was indisputable evidence +of the interest excited by the literary value +of his work. "I have made a gain," he said, +grimly. "Such men do not go gunning for +small deer." But that they were after blood +was shown by the sardonic grins with which +they greeted one another as they strolled in +at the door or met in the aisles. They expected +another "killing," and were resolute to +be thorough.</p> + +<p>From the friendly shelter of the curtain +Douglass could study the house without being +seen, and a little glow of fire warmed his +heart as he recognized five or six of the best-known +literary men of the city seated well +down towards the front, and the fifteen minutes' +wait before the orchestra leader took his +seat was rendered less painful by his pride in +the really high character of his audience; but +when the music blared forth and the curtain +began to rise, his blood chilled with a return +of the fear and doubt which had assailed him +at the opening of <i>Lillian's Duty</i>. "It is +impossible that I should succeed," was his +thought.</p> + +<p>However, his high expectation of pleasure +from the performance came back, for he had +resolutely kept away from even the dress rehearsal, +and the entire creative force of his +lines was about to come to him. "In a few +moments my characters will step forth from +the world of the disembodied into the mellow +glow of the foot-lights," he thought, and the +anticipated joy of welcoming them warmed his +brain and the chill clutch of fear fell away +from his throat. The dignity and the glow, +the possibilities of the theatre as a temple of +literature came to him with almost humbling +force.</p> + +<p>He knew that Hugh and the actors had +worked night and day towards this event—not +for him (he realized how little they cared +for him), but for Helen. She, dear girl, +thought of everybody, and forgot herself in +the event. That Westervelt and Hugh had +no confidence in the play, even after dress +rehearsal, and that they had ignored him as +he came into the theatre he knew, but he put +these slights aside. Westervelt was busy incessantly +explaining to his intimates and to +the critics that he no longer shared in Merival's +"grazy schemes. She guarantees me, +orderwise I would glose my theatre," he said, +with wheezy reiteration.</p> + +<p>The first scene opened brilliantly in the +home of Calvin Wentworth, a millionaire +mine-owner. Into the garish and vulgarly +ostentatious reception-room a pale, sweet slip +of a girl drifted, with big eyes shining with joy +of her home-coming. Some of the auditors +again failed to recognize the great actress, so +wonderful was her transformation in look and +manner. The critics themselves, dazed for a +moment, led in the cheer which rose. This +warmed the house to a genial glow, and the +play started with spirit.</p> + +<p>Helen, deeply relieved to see Douglass in the +box, advanced towards him, and their eyes +met for an instant in a lovers' greeting. +Again that subtle interchange of fire took +place. She looked marvellously young and +light-hearted; it was hard to believe that she +was worn with work and weakened by anxiety. +Her eyes were bright and her hands like lilies.</p> + +<p>The act closed with a very novel piece of +business and some very unusual lines passing +between <i>Enid</i> and <i>Sidney</i>, her lover. Towards +this passage Douglass now leaned, uplifted +by a sense of power, exulting in Helen's discernment, +which had enabled her to realize, +almost perfectly, his principal characters. +He had not begun to perceive and suffer from +the shortcomings of her support; but when +<i>Enid</i> left the stage for a few minutes, the fumbling +of the subordinate actors stung and irritated +him. They had the wrong accent, +they roared where they should have been +strong and quiet, and the man who played +<i>Sidney</i> stuttered and drawled, utterly unlike +the character of the play.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the wooden ass!" groaned Douglass. +"He'll ruin the piece." A burning rage swept +over him. So much depended on this performance, +and now—"I should have directed +the rehearsals. I was a fool to neglect them. +Why does she keep the sot?" And part of +his anger flowed out towards the star.</p> + +<p>Helen, returning, restored the illusion, so +complete was her assumption of the part, and +the current set swiftly towards that unparalleled +ending, those deeply significant lines +which had come to the author only late in the +week, but which formed, indeed, the very key +to <i>Sidney's</i> character—they were his chief +enthusiasm in this act, suggesting, as they +did, so much. Tingling, aching with pleasurable +suspense, the author waited.</p> + +<p>The curtain fell on a totally different effect—with +<i>Sidney</i> reading utterly different lines!</p> + +<p>For a moment the author sat stunned, unable +to comprehend what had happened. At +last the revelation came. "They have failed +to incorporate the changes I made. They +have gone back to the weak, trashy ending +which I discarded. They have ruined the +scene utterly!" and, looking at two of the chief +critics, he caught them in the act of laughing +evilly, even as they applauded.</p> + +<p>With face set in rage, he made his way +back of the curtain towards Helen's room. +She met him at the door, her face shining +with joy. "It's going! It's going!" she cried +out, gleefully.</p> + +<p>His reply was like a blow in the face. +"Why didn't you incorporate that new ending +of the act?" he asked, with bitter harshness.</p> + +<p>Helen staggered, and her hands rose as if +to shield herself from violence. She stammered, +"I—I—I—couldn't. You see, the +lines came so late. They would have thrown +us all out. I will do so to-morrow," she +added.</p> + +<p>"To-morrow!" he answered, through his set +teeth. "Why to-morrow? To-night is the +time. Don't you see I'm staking my reputation +on to-night? To-night we win or lose. +The house is full of critics. They will write +of what we do, not of what we are <i>going</i> to +do." He began to pace up and down, trembling +with disappointment and fury. He +turned suddenly. "How about the second +act? Did you make those changes in <i>Sidney's</i> +lines? I infer not," he added, with a sneer.</p> + +<p>Helen spoke with difficulty, her bosom +heaving, her eyes fixed in wonder and pain +on his face. "No. How could I? You +brought them only yesterday morning; they +would have endangered the whole act." +Then, as the indignity, the injustice, the burning +shame of his assault forced themselves +into her mind, she flamed out in reproach: +"Why did you come back here at all? Why +didn't you stay away, as you did before? You +are cruel, heartless!" The tears dimmed her +eyes. "You've ruined my whole performance. +You've broken my heart. Have you +no soul—no sense of honor? Go away! I +hate you! I'll never speak to you again! I +hate you!" And she turned, leaving him +dumb and staring, in partial realization of +his selfish, brutal demands.</p> + +<p>Hugh approached him with lowering brows +and clinched hands. "You've done it now. +You've broken her nerve, and she'll fail in her +part. Haven't you any sense? We pick you +off the street and feed you and clothe you—and +do your miserable plays—and you rush in +here and strike my sister, Helen Merival, in +the face. I ought to kick you into the +street!"</p> + +<p>Douglass stood through this like a man +whose brain is benumbed by the crashing +echoes of a thunderbolt, hardly aware of +the fury of the speaker, but this final +threat cleared his mind and stung him into +reply.</p> + +<p>"You are at liberty to try that," he answered, +and an answering ferocity shone in +his eyes. "I gave you this play; it's good +work, and, properly done, would succeed. +Ruin it if you want to. I am done with it +and you."</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" exclaimed the brother, as the +playwright turned away. "Good riddance to +a costly acquaintance."</p> + +<p>Hardly had the street door clapped behind +the blinded author when Helen, white and agitated, +reappeared, breathlessly asking, "Where +is he; has he gone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I am glad to say he has."</p> + +<p>"Call him back—quick! Don't let him go +away angry. I must see him again! Go, +bring him back!"</p> + +<p>Hugh took her by the arm. "What do you +intend to do—give him another chance to +insult you? He isn't worth another thought +from you. Let him go, and his plays with +him."</p> + +<p>The orchestra, roaring on its <i>finale</i>, ended +with a crash. Hugh lifted his hand in warning. +"There goes the curtain, Helen. Go on. +Don't let him kill your performance. Go on!" +And he took her by the arm.</p> + +<p>The training as well as the spirit and quality +of the actress reasserted their dominion, and +as she walked out upon the stage not even +the searching glare of the foot-lights could +reveal the cold shadow which lay about her +heart.</p> + +<p>When the curtain fell on the final "picture" +she fairly collapsed, refusing to take the curtain +call which a goodly number of her auditors +insisted upon. "I'm too tired," she made answer +to Hugh. "Too heart-sick," she admitted +to herself, for Douglass was gone with +angry lights in his eyes, bearing bitter and +accusing words in his ears. The temple of +amusement was at the moment a place of sorrow, +of despair.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/191-cap.png" alt="D" title="D" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">OUGLASS</span> knew before he had +set foot upon the pavement +that his life was blasted, that +his chance of success and Helen's +love were gone, forfeited +by his own egotism, his insane selfishness; +but it was only a half-surrender; something +very stark and unyielding rose within him, +preventing his return to ask forgiveness. The +scorn, the contempt of Hugh's words, and the +lines of loathing appearing for the first time +in Helen's wonderfully sensitive face burned +each moment deeper into his soul. The sorrows +of <i>Enid's</i> world rose like pale clouds +above the immovable mountains of his shame +and black despair.</p> + +<p>He did not doubt for a moment but that +this separation was final. "After such a revelation +of my character," he confessed, "she +can do nothing else but refuse to see me. I +have only myself to blame. I was insane," +and he groaned with his torment. "She is +right. Hugh is right in defending his household +against me. My action was that of a +fool—a hideous, egotistic fool."</p> + +<p>Seeking refuge in his room, he faced his +future in nerveless dejection. His little store +of money was gone, and his profession, long +abandoned, seemed at the moment a broken +staff—his place on the press in doubt. What +would his good friend say to him now when he +asked for a chance to earn his bread? He had +flouted the critics, the dramatic departments +of all the papers. In his besotted self-confidence +he had cast away all his best friends, +and with these reflections came the complete +revelation of Helen's kindness—and her glittering +power. Back upon him swept a realization +of the paradise in which he had lived, +in whose air his egotism had expanded like +a mushroom.</p> + +<p>Leagued with her, enjoying her bounty +and sharing in the power w1hich her success +had brought her, he had imagined himself a +great writer, a man with a compelling message +to his fellows. It seemed only necessary to +reach out his hand in order to grasp a chaplet—a +crown. With her the world seemed his +debtor. Now he was a thing cast off, a broken +boy grovelling at the foot of the ladder of +fame.</p> + +<p>While he withered over his defeat the electric +cars, gigantic insects of the dawn, began +to howl and the trains on the elevated railway +thundered by. The city's voice, which never +ceases, but which had sunk to a sleepy murmur, +suddenly awoke, and with clattering, +snarling crescendo roar announced the coming +of the tides of toilers. "I am facing the day," +he said to himself, "and the papers containing +the contemptuous judgments of my critics +are being delivered in millions to my fellow-citizens. +This thing I have gained—I am +rapidly becoming infamous."</p> + +<p>His weakness, his shuddering fear made his +going forth a torture. Even the bell-boy who +brought his papers seemed to exult over his +misery, but by sternly sending him about an +errand the worn playwright managed to overawe +and silence him, and then, with the city's +leading papers before him, he sat down to his +bitter medicine. As he had put aside the +judgments of <i>Lillian's Duty</i>, with contemptuous +gesture, so now he searched out every line, +humbly admitting the truth of every criticism, +instructed even by the lash of those +who hated him.</p> + +<p>The play had closed unexpectedly well, one +paper admitted, but it could never succeed. +It was not dramatic of construction. Another +admitted that it was a novel and pretty +entertainment, a kind of prose poem, a fantasy +of the present, but without wide appeal. +Others called it a moonshine monologue—that +a girl at once so naïve and so powerful +was impossible. All united in praise of Helen, +however, and, as though by agreement, bewailed +her desertion of the rôles in which she +won great renown. "Our advice, given in the +friendliest spirit, is this: go back to the twilight +of the past, to the costume play. Get out of +the garish light of to-day. The present is +suited only for a kind of crass comedy or +Bowery melodrama. Only the past, the foreign, +affords setting for the large play of human +passion which Helen Merival's great art +demands."</p> + +<p>"You are cheating us," wrote another. +"There are a thousand little <i>ingénues</i> who can +play acceptably this goody-goody <i>Enid</i>, but +the best of them would be lost in the large +folds of your cloak in <i>The Baroness Telka</i>."</p> + +<p>Only one wrote in almost unmeasured +praise, and his words, so well chosen, salved +the smarting wounds of the dramatist. "Those +who have seen Miss Merival only as the melodrama +queen or the adventuress in jet-black +evening dress have a surprise in store for +them. Her <i>Enid</i> is a dream of cold, chaste +girlhood—a lily with heart of fire—in whose +tender, virginal eyes the lust and cruelty of +the world arouse only pity and wonder. So +complete was Miss Merival's investiture of +herself in this part that no one recognized her +as she stepped on the stage. For a moment +even her best friends sat silent." And yet +this friend ended like the rest in predicting +defeat. "The play is away over the heads of +any audience likely to come to see it. The beringed +and complacent wives of New York and +their wine-befuddled husbands will find little +to entertain them in this idyl of modern life. +As for the author, George Douglass, we have +only this to say: He is twenty years ahead of +his time. Let him go on writing his best +and be patient. By-and-by, when we have +time to think of other things than money, +when our wives have ceased to struggle for +social success, when the reaction to a simpler +and truer life comes—and it is coming—then +the quality of such a play as <i>Enid's Choice</i> +will give its author the fame and the living +he deserves."</p> + +<p>The tears came to Douglass's eyes. "Good +old Jim! He knows I need comfort this +morning. He's prejudiced in my favor—everybody +will see that; and yet there is +truth in what he says. I will go to him and +ask for work, for I must get back to earning a +weekly wage."</p> + +<p>He went down and out into the street. The +city seemed unusually brilliant and uncaring. +From every quarter of the suburbs floods of +people were streaming in to work or to shop, +quite unknowing of any one's misfortunes but +their own, each intent on earning a living or +securing a bargain. "How can I appeal to +these motes?" he asked himself. "By what +magic can I lift myself out of this press to earn +a living—out of this common drudgery?" He +studied the faces in the coffee-house where he +sat. "How many of these citizens are capable +of understanding for a moment <i>Enid's Choice</i>? +Is there any subject holding an interest common +to them and to me which would not in a +sense be degrading in me to dramatize for their +pleasure?"</p> + +<p>This was the question, and though his breakfast +and a walk on the avenue cleared his +brain, it did not solve his problem. "They +don't want my ideas on architecture. My +dramatic criticism interests but a few. My +plays are a proved failure. What is to be +done?"</p> + +<p>Mingled with these gloomy thoughts, constantly +recurring like the dull, far-off boom of a +sombre bell, was the consciousness of his loss +of Helen. He did not think of returning to +ask forgiveness. "I do not deserve it," he +repeated each time his heart prompted a +message to her. "She is well rid of me. I +have been a source of loss, of trouble, and +vexation to her. She will be glad of my self-revelation." +Nevertheless, when he found her +letter waiting for him in his box at the office +he was smitten with sudden weakness. "What +would she say? She has every reason to hate +me, to cast me and my play to the winds. +Has she done so? I cannot blame her."</p> + +<p>Safe in his room, he opened the letter, the +most fateful that had ever come to him in all +his life. The very lines showed the agitation +of the writer:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Author</span>,—Pardon me for my +harshness last night, and come to see me at +once. I was nervous and anxious, as you +were. I should have made allowances for the +strain you were under. Please forgive me. +Come and lunch, as usual, and talk of the +play. I believe in it, in spite of all. It must +make its own public, but I believe it will do +so. Come and let me hear you say you have +forgotten my words of last night. I didn't +really mean them; you must have known +that."</p></div> + +<p>His throat filled with tenderness and his +head bowed in humility as he read these good, +sweet, womanly lines, and for the moment he +was ready to go to her and receive pardon +kneeling. But as he thought of the wrong he +had done her, the misfortune he had brought +upon her, a stubborn, unaccountable resolution +hardened his heart. "No, I will not go +back till I can go as her equal. I am broken +and in disgrace now. I will not burden her +generosity further."</p> + +<p>The thought of making his peace with +Hugh, of meeting Westervelt's hard stare, +aided this resolution, and, sitting at his desk, +he wrote a long and passionate letter, wherein +he delineated with unsparing hand his miserable +failure. He took a pride and a sort of +morbid pleasure in punishing himself, in denying +himself any further joy in her company.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"It is better for you and better for me that +we do not meet again—at least till I have won +the tolerance of your brother and manager +and my own self-respect. The work I have +done is honest work; I will not admit that it +is wholly bad, but I cannot meet Hugh again +till I can demand consideration. It was not +so much the words he used as the tone. I +was helpless in resenting it. That I am a +beggar, a dangerous influence, I admit. I am +appalled at the thought of what I have done +to injure you. Cast me overboard. Not even +your beauty, your great fame, can make my +work vital to the public. I am too perverse, +too individual. There is good in me, but it +is evil to you. I no longer care what they say +of me, but I feel every word derogatory of +you as if it were a red-hot point of steel. I +did not sleep last night; I spent the time in +reconstructing myself. I confessed my grievous +sins, and I long to do penance. This play +is also a failure. I grew cold with hate of +myself last night as I thought of the irreparable +injury I had done to you. I here relinquish +all claim to both pieces; they are yours +to do with as you like. Take them, rewrite +them, play them, or burn them, as you will.</p> + +<p>"You see, I am very, very humble. I have +put my foolish pride underfoot. I am not +broken. I am still very proud and, I fear, +self-conceited, in spite of my severe lesson. +<i>Enid</i> is beautiful, and I know it, and it helps +me write this letter, but I have no right to +ask even friendship from you. My proved +failure as a playwright robs me of every +chance of meeting you on equal terms. I +want to repay you, I <i>must</i> repay you, for +what you have done. If I could write now, +it would be not to please myself, but to please +you, to help you regain your dominion. I +want to see you the radiant one again, speaking +to throngs of happy people. If I could by +any sacrifice of myself call back the homage +of the critics and place you where I found you, +the acknowledged queen of American actresses, +I would do it. But I am helpless. I shall +not speak or write to you again till I can come +with some gift in my hand—some recompense +for your losses through me. I have been a +malign influence in your life. I am in mad +despair when I think of you playing to cold +and empty houses. I am going back to the +West to do sash factories and wheat elevators; +these are my <i>métier</i>. You are the one +to grant pardon; I am the malefactor. I am +taking myself out of your world. Forgive me +and—forget me. Hugh was right. My very +presence is a curse to you. Good-bye."</p></div> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/204-cap.png" alt="T" title="T" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">HIS</span> letter came to Helen with +her coffee, and the reading of it +blotted out the glory of the +morning, filling her eyes with +smarting tears. It put a sudden +ache into her heart, a fierce resentment. +At the moment his assumed humbleness, his +self-derision, his confession of failure irritated +her.</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to bend and bow," she +thought, as if speaking to him. "I'd rather +you were fierce and hard, as you were last +night." She read on to the end, so deeply +moved that she could scarcely see the lines. +Her resentment melted away and a pity, profound +and almost maternal, filled her heart. +"Poor boy! What could Hugh have said to +him! I will know. It has been a bitter experience +for him. And is this the end of our +good days?"</p> + +<p>With this internal question a sense of vital +loss took hold upon her. For the first time +in her life the future seemed desolate and her +past futile. Back upon her a throng of +memories came rushing—memories of the +high and splendid moments they had spent +together. First of all she remembered him +as the cold, stern, handsome stranger of that +first night—that night when she learned that +his coldness was assumed, his sternness a +mask. She realized once again that at this +first meeting he had won her by his voice, by +his hand-clasp, by the swiftness and fervor +of his speech; he had dominated her, swept +her from her feet.</p> + +<p>And now this was the end of all their plans, +their dreams of conquest. There could be +no doubt of his meaning in this letter: he had +cut himself off from her, perversely, bitterly, +in despair and deep humiliation. She did not +doubt his ability to keep his word. There +was something inexorable in him. She had +felt it before—a sort of blind, self-torturing +obstinacy which would keep him to his vow +though he bled for every letter.</p> + +<p>And yet she wrote again, patiently, sweetly, +asking him to come to her. "I don't know +what Hugh said to you—no matter, forgive +him. We were all at high tension last night. +I know you didn't intend to hurt me, and I +have put it all away. I will forget your reproach, +but I cannot have you go out of my +life in this way. It is too cruel, too hopeless. +Come to me again, your good, strong, buoyant +self, and let us plan for the future."</p> + +<p>This message, so high, so divinely forgiving, +came back to her unopened, with a line from +the clerk on the back—"Mr. Douglass left the +city this evening. No address."</p> + +<p>This laconic message struck her like a blow. +It was as if Douglass himself had refused her +outstretched hand. Her nerves, tense and +quivering, gave way. Her resentment flamed +up again.</p> + +<p>"Very well." She tore the note in small +pieces, slowly, with painful precision, as if +by so doing she were tearing and blowing +away the great passion which had grown up +in her heart. "I was mistaken in you. You +are unworthy of my confidence. After all, +you are only a weak, egotistical 'genius'—morbid, +selfish. Hugh is right. You have +proved my evil genius. You skulked the night +of your first play. You alternately ignored +and made use of me—as you pleased—and +after all I had done for you you flouted me +in the face of my company." She flung the +fragments of the note into the fire. "There +are your words—all counting for nothing."</p> + +<p>And she rose and walked out to her brother +and her manager, determined that no sign of +her suffering and despair should be written +upon her face.</p> + +<p>The day dragged wearily forward, and when +Westervelt came in with a sorrowful tale of +diminishing demand for seats she gave her +consent to a return to <i>Baroness Telka</i> on +the following Monday morning.</p> + +<p>The manager was jubilant. "Now we will +see a theatre once more. I tought I vas running +a church or a school. Now we will see +carriages at the door again and some dress-suits +pefore the orchestra. Eh, Hugh?"</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to see you come to your senses," +said Hugh, ignoring Westervelt. "That +chap had us all—"</p> + +<p>She stopped him. "Not a word of that. +Mr. Douglass was right and his plays are +right, but the public is not yet risen to such +work. I admire his work just as much now +as ever. I am only doubting the public. If +there is no sign of increasing interest on Saturday +we will take <i>Enid</i> off. That is all I +will say now."</p> + +<p>It seemed a pitiful, a monstrous thing. +Hugh made no further protest, but that his +queenly sister, after walking untouched +through swarms of rich and talented suitors, +should fall a victim to a poor and unknown +architect, who was a failure at his own business +as well as a playwright.</p> + +<p>Mrs. MacDavitt, who stood quite in awe of +her daughter, and who feared the sudden, hot +temper of her son, passed through some trying +hours as the days went by. Helen was plainly +suffering, and the mother cautioned the son +to speak gently. "I fear she prized him highly—the +young Douglass," she said, "and, I +confess, I had a kin' o' liking for the lad. He +was so keen and resolved."</p> + +<p>"He was keen to 'do' us, mother, and when +he found he couldn't he pulled his freight. +He could write, I'll admit that, but he wouldn't +write what people wanted to hear. He was +too badly stuck on his own 'genius.'"</p> + +<p>Helen went to her task at the theatre without +heart, though she pretended to a greater +enthusiasm than ever. But each time she +entered upon the second act of the play a +mysterious and solacing pleasure came to her. +She enjoyed the words with which <i>Enid</i> questions +the life of her richest and most powerful +suitor. The mingled shrewdness, simplicity, +and sweetness of this scene always filled her +with a new sense of Douglass's power of divination. +Indeed, she closed the play each +night with a sense of being more deeply indebted +to him as well as a feeling of having +been near him. Once she saw a face strangely +like his in the upper gallery, and the blood +tingled round her heart, and she played the +remainder of the act with mind distraught. +"Can it be possible that he is still in the city?" +she asked herself.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/211-cap.png" alt="I" title="I" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">T</span> was, indeed, the playwright. +Each night he left his boarding-place, +drawn by an impulse +he could not resist, to walk +slowly to and fro opposite the +theatre entrance, calculating with agonized +eye the meagre numbers of those who entered. +At times he took his stand near the +door in a shadowy nook (with coat-collar +rolled high about his ears), in order to observe +the passing stream, hoping, exulting, and suffering +alternately as groups from the crowd +paused for a moment to study the displayed +photographs, only to pass on to other amusement +with some careless allusion to the fallen +star.</p> + +<p>This hurt him worst of all—that these motes, +these cheap little boys and girls, could now +sneer at or pity Helen Merival. "I brought +her to this," he repeated, with morbid sense +of power. "When she met me she was queen +of the city; now she is an object of pity."</p> + +<p>This feeling of guilt, this egotism deepened +each night as he watched the city's pleasure-seekers +pace past the door. It was of no avail +to say that the few who entered were of higher +type than the many who passed. "The profession +which Helen serves cannot live on the +wishes of the few, the many must be pleased. +To become exclusive in appeal is to die of +hunger. This is why the sordid, commonplace +playwrights and the business-like managers +succeed while the idealists fail. There +is an iron law of limitation here."</p> + +<p>"That is why my influence is destructive," +he added, and was reassured in the justice of +his resolution to take himself out of Helen's +life. "Everything I stand for is inimical to +her interests. To follow my path is to eat +dry crusts, to be without comfort. To amuse +this great, moiling crowd, to dance for them +like a monkey, to pander to their base passions, +this means success, and so long as her +acting does not smirch her own soul what does +it matter?" In such wise he sometimes argued +in his bitterness and wrath.</p> + +<p>From the brilliant street, from the gay +crowds rolling on in search of witless farce-comedy +and trite melodrama, the brooding +idealist climbed one night to the gallery to +overlook a gloomy, empty auditorium. Concealing +himself as best he could, he sat through +the performance, tortured by some indefinable +appeal in Helen's voice, hearing with cold and +sinking heart the faint applause from the orchestra +chairs which used to roar with bravos +and sparkle with the clapping of white and +jewelled hands.</p> + +<p>There was something horrifying in this +change. In his morbid and overwrought condition +it seemed murderous. At last a new +resolution set his lips in a stern line, and when +the curtain fell on the last act his mind was +made up. "I will write one more play for the +sensation-loving fools, for these flabby business +men and their capon-stuffed wives. I +will mix them a dramatic cocktail that will +make them sit up. I will create a dazzling +rôle for Helen, one that will win back all her +old-time admirers. They shall come like a +roaring tide, and she shall recoup herself for +every loss—in purse and prestige."</p> + +<p>It was this night, when his face was white +with suffering, that Helen caught a glimpse of +him hanging across the railing of the upper +balcony.</p> + +<p>He went no more to see her play. In his +small, shabby room in a musty house on one +of the old side streets he set to work on his +new plan. He wrote now without fervor, +without elation, plodding along hour after +hour, erasing, interlining, destroying, rewriting. +He toiled terribly. He permitted +himself no fancy flights. He calculated now. +"I must have a young and beautiful duchess +or countess," he mused, bitterly. "Our democratic +public loves to see nobility. She must +peril her honor for a lover—a wonderful fellow +of the middle-class, not royal, but near it. +The princess must masquerade in a man's +clothing for some high purpose. There must +be a lord high chamberlain or the like who +discovers her on this mission to save her lover, +and who uses his discovery to demand her +hand in marriage for his son—"</p> + +<p>In this cynical mood he worked, sustained +only by the memory of "The Glittering Woman" +whose power and beauty had once dazzled +him. Slowly the new play took shape, +and, try as he might, he could not keep out of it +a line now and then of real drama—of literature. +Each act was designed to end with a +clarion call to the passions, and he was perfectly +certain that the curtain would rise again +and again at the close. At every point was +glitter and the rush of heroics.</p> + +<p>He lived sparely, seeing no one, going out +only at night for a walk in the square. To +send to his brother or his father for money he +would not, not even to write his wonder-working +drama. His letters home, while brief, +were studiedly confident of tone. The play-acting +business and all those connected with +it stood very remote from the farming village +in which Dr. Donald Douglass lived, +and when he read from his son's letters references +to his dramas his mind took but +slight hold upon the words. His replies were +brief and to the point. "Go back to your +building and leave the play-actors to themselves. +They're a poor, uneasy lot at the +best." To him an architect was a man who +built houses and barns, with a personal share +in the physical labor, a wholesome, manly business. +The son understood his father's prejudices, +and they formed a barrier to his approach +when in need.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the fifteenth day <i>Alessandra</i> +went to the type-writer, and the +weary playwright lifted his head and took a +full, free breath. He was convinced beyond +any question that this melodrama would +please. It had all the elements which he despised, +therefore it must succeed. His desire +to see Helen now overpowered him. Worn +with his toil and exultant in his freedom, he +went out into the street to see what the world +was doing.</p> + +<p><i>Enid's Choice</i> was still running. A slight +gain at the end of the first week had enabled +Helen to withhold her surrender to mammon. +The second week increased the attendance, +but the loss on the two plays was now very +heavy, and Hugh and Westervelt and all her +friends as well urged her to give way to the +imperious public; but some deep loyalty to +Douglass, some reason which she was not free +to give, made her say, "No, while there is +the slightest hope I am going to keep on." +To her mother she said: "They are associated +in my mind with something sweet and +fine—a man's aspiration. They taste good in +my mouth after all these years of rancid +melodrama."</p> + +<p>To herself she said: "If they succeed—if +they win the public—my lover will come back. +He can then come as a conqueror." And the +hope of this, the almost certain happiness and +honor which awaited them both led her to +devise new methods of letting the great non-theatre-going +public know that in George +Douglass's <i>Enid</i> they might be comforted—that +it was, indeed, a dramatic sign of promise. +"We will give it a faithful trial here, then go +on the road. Life is less strenuous in the +smaller towns—they have time to think."</p> + +<p>Hugh and Westervelt counselled against +any form of advertising that would seem to +set the play in a class by itself, but Helen, +made keen by her suffering, bluntly replied: +"You are both wrong, utterly wrong. Our +only possible chance of success lies in reaching +that vast, sane, thoughtful public which seldom +or never goes to the theatre. This public +very properly holds a prejudice against the +theatrical world, but it will welcome a play +which is high and poetic without being dull. +This public is so vast it makes the ordinary +theatre-going public seem but a handful. +We must change all our methods of printing."</p> + +<p>These ideas were sourly adopted in the +third week, just when a note from Douglass +reached her by the hand of a special messenger. +In this letter he said: "I have completed another +play. I have been grubbing night and +day with incessant struggle to put myself and +all my ideals aside—to give the public what +it wants—to win your old admirers back, in +order that I might see you playing once more +to crowded and brilliant houses. It will succeed +because it is diametrically opposed to all +I have expressed. It is my sacrifice. Will +you accept it? Will you read my play? +Shall I send it to you?"</p> + +<p>Something went out from this letter which +hurt Helen deeply. First of all there was a +certain humble aloofness in his attitude which +troubled her, but more significant still was +his confessed departure from his ideals. Her +brave and splendid lover had surrendered to +the enemy—for her sake. Her first impulse +was to write refusing to accept his sacrifice. +But on second thought she craftily wrote: "I +do not like to think of you writing to please +the public, which I have put aside, but come +and bring your play. I cannot believe that +you have really written down to a melodramatic +audience. What I will do I cannot say +till I have seen your piece. Where have you +kept yourself? Have you been West? Come +and tell me all about it."</p> + +<p>To this self-contained note he replied by +sending the drama. "No, I cannot come till +Hugh and you have read and accepted this +play. I want your manager to pass on <i>Alessandra</i>. +You know what I mean. You are +an idealist like myself. You will condemn +this drama, but Westervelt may see in it a +chance to restore the glitter to his theatre. +Ask them both to read it—without letting +them know who wrote it. If they accept it, +then I can meet them again on equal terms. +I long to see you; but I am in disgrace +and infinitely poorer than when I first met +you."</p> + +<p>Over this letter Helen pondered long. Her +first impulse was to send the play back without +reading it, but her love suggested another +subterfuge. "I will do his will, and if Hugh +and Westervelt find the play acceptable I will +share in his triumph. But I will not do the +play except as a last resort—for his sake. +<i>Enid</i> is more than holding its own. So long +as it does I will not permit him to lower his +splendid powers."</p> + +<p>To Hugh she carelessly said: "Here is another +play—a melodrama, to judge from the +title. Look it over and see if there is anything +in it."</p> + +<p>As plays were constantly coming in to them, +Hugh took this one quite as a matter of routine, +with expectation of being bored. He was a +little surprised next morning when she asked, +"Did you look into that manuscript?"</p> + +<p>He answered: "No. I didn't get time."</p> + +<p>She could hardly conceal her impatience. +"I wish you'd go over it this morning. From +the title it's one of those middle-age Italian +things that costume well."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is it?" he exclaimed. "Well, I'll get +right at it." Her interest in it more than the +title moved him. It was a most hopeful sign +of weakening on her part.</p> + +<p>He came to lunch full of enthusiasm. "Say, +sis, that play is a corker. There is a part in +it that sees the <i>Baroness</i> and goes her one +better. If the last act keeps up we've got a +prize-winner. Who's Edwin Baxter, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>Helen quietly stirred her tea. "I never +heard the name before. A new man in the +theatrical world, apparently."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's all right. I'm going over the +whole thing again. Have you read it?"</p> + +<p>"No, I thought best to let you and Westervelt +decide this time. I merely glanced at +it."</p> + +<p>"Well, it looks like the thing to pull us out +of our hole."</p> + +<p>That night Westervelt came behind the +scenes with shining face. "I hope you will +consent to do this new piece; it is a cracker-jack." +He grew cautious. "It really is an +immensely better piece of work than <i>The +Baroness</i>, and yet it has elements of popularity. +I have read it hastily. I shall study it +to-night. If it looks as big to me to-morrow +morning as now I will return to the old arrangement +with you—if you wish."</p> + +<p>"How is the house to-night?" she asked.</p> + +<p>His face dropped. "No better than last +night." He shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, +ten or fifteen dollars, maybe. We can play +all winter to two hundred dollars a night with +this play. I do not understand such audiences. +Apparently each man sends just one to take +his place. There is no increase."</p> + +<p>"Well, report to me to-morrow about <i>Alessandra</i>, +then I will decide upon the whole +matter."</p> + +<p>In spite of herself she shared in the glow +which shone on the faces of her supports, for +the word had been passed to the leading members +that they were going back to the old +drama. "They've found a new play—a corking +melodrama."</p> + +<p>Royleston straightened. "What's the subject?"</p> + +<p>"Middle-age Italian intrigue, so Hugh says—bully +costumes—a wonder of a part for +Merival."</p> + +<p>"Then we are on velvet again," said Royleston.</p> + +<p>The influence of the news ran through the +action on the stage. The performance took +on spirit and gusto. The audience immediately +felt the glow of the players' enthusiasm, +and warmed to both actress and playwright, +and the curtain went down to the most vigorous +applause of the entire run. But Westervelt +did not perceive this, so engrossed was he +in the new manuscript. Reading was prodigious +labor for him—required all his attention.</p> + +<p>He was at the hotel early the next morning, +impatient to see his star. As he waited he +figured on a little pad. His face was flushed +as if with drink. His eyes swam with tears +of joy, and when Helen appeared he took +her hand in both his fat pads, crying out:</p> + +<p>"My dear lady, we have found you a new +play. It is to be a big production. It will +cost a barrel of money to put it on, but it is a +winner. Tell the writer to come on and talk +terms."</p> + +<p>Helen remained quite cool. "You go too +fast, Herr Westervelt. I have not read the +piece. I may not like the title rôle."</p> + +<p>The manager winced. "You will like it—you +must like it. It is a wonderful part. +The costuming is magnificent—the scenes +superb."</p> + +<p>"Is there any text?"</p> + +<p>Westervelt did not feel the sarcasm. "Excellent +text. It is not Sardou—of course not—but +it is of his school, and very well done indeed. +The situations are not new, but they +are powerfully worked out. I am anxious +to secure it. If not for you, for some one +else."</p> + +<p>"Very well. I will read the manuscript. +If I like it I will send for the author."</p> + +<p>With this show of tepid interest on the part +of his star Westervelt had to be content. To +Hugh he complained: "The influence of that +crazy Douglass is strong with her yet. I'm +afraid she will turn down this part."</p> + +<p>Hugh was also alarmed by her indifference, +and at frequent intervals during the day asked +how she was getting on with the reading.</p> + +<p>To this query she each time replied: "Slowly. +I'm giving it careful thought."</p> + +<p>She was, indeed, struggling with her tempted +self. She was more deeply curious to read +the manuscript than any one else could possibly +be, and yet she feared to open the envelope +which contained it. She did not wish to be in +any sense a party to her lover's surrender. +She knew that he must have written falsely +and without conviction to have made such +a profound impression on Westervelt. The +very fact that the theme was Italian, and of +the Middle Ages, was a proof of his abandonment +of a cardinal principle, for he had often +told her how he hated all that sort of thing. +"What kind of a national drama would that +be which dealt entirely with French or Italian +mediæval heroes?" he had once asked, with +vast scorn.</p> + +<p>It would win back her former worshippers, +she felt sure of that. The theatre would fill +again with men whose palates required the +highly seasoned, the far-fetched. The critics +would rejoice in their victory, and welcome +Helen Merival to her rightful place with added +fervor. The bill-boards would glow again +with magnificent posters of Helen Merival, +as <i>Alessandra</i>, stooping with wild eyes and +streaming hair over her slain paramour on +the marble stairway, a dagger in her hand. +People would crowd again behind the scenes +at the close of the play. The magazines +would add their chorus of praise.</p> + +<p>And over against this stood the slim, poetic +figure of <i>Enid</i>, so white of soul, so simple, +so elemental of appeal. A whole world +lay between the two parts. All that each +stood for was diametrically opposed to the +other. One was modern as the telephone, +true, sound, and revealing. The other false +from beginning to end, belonging to a world +that never existed, a brilliant, flashing pageant, +a struggle of beasts in robes of gold and velvet—assassins +dancing in jewelled garters. +Every scene, every motion was worn with use +on the stage, and yet her own romance, her +happiness, seemed to depend upon her capitulation +as well as his.</p> + +<p>"If they accept <i>Alessandra</i> he will come +back to me proudly—at least with a sense of +victory over his ignoble enemies. If I return +it he will know I am right, but will still +be left so deeply in my debt that he will +never come to see me again." And with this +thought she determined upon a course of action +which led at least to a meeting and to a +reconciliation between the author and the +manager, and with the thought of seeing him +again her heart grew light.</p> + +<p>When she came to the theatre at night Westervelt +was waiting at the door.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he asked, anxiously. "What do +you think of it?"</p> + +<p>"I have sent for the author," she answered, +coldly. "He will meet me to-morrow at +eleven. Come to the hotel and I will introduce +him to you."</p> + +<p>"Splendid! splendid!" exclaimed the manager. +"You found it suited to you! A great +part, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I like it better than <i>The Baroness</i>," she +replied, and left him broad-faced with joy.</p> + +<p>"She is coming sensible again," he chuckled. +"Now that that crank is out of the way we +shall see her as she was—triumphant."</p> + +<p>Again the audience responded to every line +she spoke, and as she played something reassuring +came up to her from the faces below. +The house was perceptibly less empty, but the +comfort arose from something more intangible +than an increase of filled chairs. "I believe +the tide has turned," she thought, exultantly, +but dared not say so to Hugh.</p> + +<p>That night she sent a note to Douglass, and +the words of her message filled him with mingled +feelings of exultation and bitterness:</p> + +<p>"You have won! Westervelt and Hugh are +crazy to meet the author of <i>Alessandra</i>. They +see a great success for you, for me, for all +of us. Westervelt is ready to pour out his +money to stage the thing gorgeously. Come +to-morrow to meet them. Come proudly. +You will find them both ready to take your +hand—eager to acknowledge that they have +misjudged you. We have both made a fight +for good work and failed. No one can blame +us if we yield to necessity."</p> + +<p>The thought of once more meeting her, of +facing her managers with confident gaze on +equal terms, made Douglass tremble with excitement. +He dressed with care, attempting +as best he could to put away all the dust and +odors of his miserable tenement, and went +forth looking much like the old-time, self-confident +youth who faced down the clerk. +His mind ran over every word in Helen's note +a dozen times, extracting each time new and +hidden meanings.</p> + +<p>"If it is the great success they think it, my +fortune is made." His spirits began to overleap +all bounds. "It will enable me to meet +her as an equal—not in worth," he acknowledged—"she +is so much finer and nobler than +any man that ever lived—but I will at least +be something more than a tramp kennelled in +a musty hole." His mind took another flight. +"I can go home with pride also. Oh, success +is a sovereign thing. Think of Hugh and Westervelt +waiting to welcome me—and Helen!"</p> + +<p>When he thought of her his confident air +failed him, his face flushed, his hands felt +numb. She shone now like a far-off violet +star. She had recovered her aloofness, her +allurement in his mind, and it was difficult for +him to realize that he had once known her +intimately and that he had treated her inconsiderately. +"I must have been mad," he +exclaimed. It seemed months since he had +looked into her face.</p> + +<p>The clerk he dreaded to meet was off duty, +and as the elevator boy knew him he did not +approach the desk, but went at once to Helen's +apartments.</p> + +<p>She did not meet him at the door as he had +foolishly expected. Delia, the maid, greeted +him with a smile, and led him back to the reception-room +and left him alone.</p> + +<p>He heard Helen's voice, the rustle of her +dress, and then she stood before him. As he +looked into her face and read love and pity in +her eyes he lost all fear, all doubt, and caught +her hand in both of his, unable to speak a +word in his defence—unable even to tell her +of his gratitude and love.</p> + +<p>She recovered herself first, and, drawing +back, looked at him searchingly. "You poor +fellow, you've been working like mad. You +are ill!"</p> + +<p>"No, I am not ill—only tired. I have had +only one thought, one aim since I saw you +last, that was to write something to restore +you to your old place——"</p> + +<p>"I do not want to be restored. Now listen, +Lord Douglass. If I do <i>Alessandra</i>, it is because +we both need the money and the prestige; +but I do not despair, and you must not. +Please let me manage this whole affair; will +you?"</p> + +<p>"I am your slave."</p> + +<p>"Don't say such things. I don't want you +to be humble. I want you to be as brave, +as proud as before."</p> + +<p>She said this in such a tone that he rose to it. +His face reset in lines of resolution. "I will +not be humble with any other human being +but you. I worship you."</p> + +<p>She stood for a moment looking at him fixedly, +a smile of pride and tender dream on her +lips, then said, "You must not say such things +to me—not now." The bell rang. "Here +comes your new-found admirers," she exclaimed, +gleefully. "Now, you sit here, a +little in the shadow, and I will bring them +in."</p> + +<p>Douglass heard Hugh ask, eagerly, "Is he +here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he is waiting for you." A moment +later she re-entered, followed closely by Westervelt. +"Herr Westervelt, let me introduce +Mr. George Douglass, author of <i>Alessandra</i>, +<i>Lillian's Duty</i>, and <i>Enid's Choice</i>."</p> + +<p>For an instant Westervelt's face was a confused, +lumpy mass of amazement and resentment; +then he capitulated, quick to know on +which side his bread was buttered, and, flinging +out a fat hand, he roared:</p> + +<p>"Very good joke. Ha! ha! You have +fooled me completely. Mr. Douglass, I congratulate +you. You have now given Helen +Merival the best part she has ever had. You +found we were right, eh?"</p> + +<p>Douglass remained a little stiff. "Yes, for +the present we'll say you are right; but the +time is coming—"</p> + +<p>Hugh came forward with less of enthusiasm, +but his wall of reserve was melting. "I'm +mighty glad to know that you wrote <i>Alessandra</i>, +Douglass. It is worthy of Sardou, and it +will win back every dollar we've lost in the +other plays."</p> + +<p>"That's what I wrote it for," said Douglass, +sombrely.</p> + +<p>Westervelt had no further scruples—no +reservations. "Well, now, as to terms and +date of production. Let's get to business."</p> + +<p>Helen interposed. "No more of that for to-day. +Mr. Douglass is tired and needs recreation. +Leave business till to-morrow. Come, +let us go to mother; she is anxious to see you—and +you are to breakfast with us in the good +old spirit."</p> + +<p>It was sweet to sit with them again on the +old footing—to be released from his load of +guilty responsibility. To face the shining +table, the dear old mother—and Helen! +Something indefinably domestic and tender +came from her hesitating speech and shone +in her liquid, beaming eyes.</p> + +<p>The room swam in vivid sunshine, and +seemed thus to typify the toiler's escape from +poverty and defeat.</p> + +<p>"Don't expect me to talk," he said, slowly, +strangely. "I'm too dazed, too happy to +think clearly. I can't believe it. I have +lived two months in a horrible nightmare; but +now that the business men, the practical ones, +say you are to be saved by me, I must believe +it. I would be perfectly happy if only I had +won the success on my own lines without compromise."</p> + +<p>"Put that aside," she commanded, softly. +"The fuller success will come. We have that +to work towards."</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/237-cap.png" alt="H" title="H" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">ELEN</span> insisted that her playwright +should go back to the +West for a month's rest.</p> + +<p>"I do not need rest, I need +you," he answered, recklessly. +"It fills me with content merely to see you."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, you must go. We don't +need you here. And, besides, you interfere +with my plans."</p> + +<p>"Is that true?" His eyes searched deep +as he questioned.</p> + +<p>"I am speaking as the actress to the playwright." +She pointed tragically to the door. +"Go! Your poor old, lonely mother awaits +you."</p> + +<p>"There are six in the family; she's my +stepmother, and we don't get on smoothly."</p> + +<p>"Your father is waiting to congratulate +you."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary. He thinks actresses and +playwrights akin to 'popery.'"</p> + +<p>She laughed. "Well, then, go on my account—on +your account. You are tired, and +so am I—"</p> + +<p>"That is why I should remain, to relieve +you, to help you. Or, do you mean you're +tired of me?"</p> + +<p>"I won't say that; but I must not see you. +I must not see any one. If I do this big +part right, I must rest. I intend to sleep a +good part of the time. I have sent for Henry +Olquest, and I intend to put the whole of the +stage end of this play in his hands. Our +ideals are not concerned in this <i>Alessandra</i>, +you remember."</p> + +<p>His face clouded. "That is true. I wish +it were otherwise. But can you get Olquest?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; his new play has failed. 'Too good,' +Westervelt said."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what blasphemy! To think Harry +Olquest's plays are rejected, and on such +grounds! You are right—as always. I will +go."</p> + +<p>"Thank you!"</p> + +<p>"I am a little frazled, I admit, and a breath +of mountain-air will do me good. I will visit +my brother Walt in Darien. It's hard to go. +My heart begins to ache already with prospective +hunger. You have been my world, my +one ambition for three months—my incessant +care and thought."</p> + +<p>"All the more reason why you should forget +me and things dramatic for a while. There is +nothing so destructive to peace and tranquillity +as the stage."</p> + +<p>"Don't I know that? When I was a youth +in a Western village I became in some way +the possessor of two small photographs of +Elsie Melville. She was my ideal till I saw +her, fifteen years later."</p> + +<p>Helen laughed. "Poor Elsie, she took on +flesh dreadfully in her later years."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, those photographs started +me on the road to the stage. I used to fancy +myself as Macbeth, but I soon got switched +into the belief that I could write plays. Now +that I have demonstrated that"—his tone was +a little bitter again—"I think I would better +return to architecture."</p> + +<p>She silenced him. "All that we will discuss +when you come back reinvigorated from the +mountains." She turned to her desk. "I +have something here for you. Here is a small +check from Westervelt on account. Don't +hesitate to take it. He was glad to give it."</p> + +<p>"It is the price of my intellectual honesty."</p> + +<p>"By no means!" She laughed, but her +heart sickened with a sense of the truth of his +phrase. "It's only a very small part payment. +You can at least know that the bribe +they offer is large."</p> + +<p>"Yes"—he looked at her meaningly—"the +prize was too great for my poor resolution. +All they can give will remain <i>part</i> payment. +I wonder if you will be compassionate enough +to complete the purchase—"</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i>, too, is in the future," she answered, +still struggling to be gayly reassuring, though +she knew, perfectly well, that she was face to +face with a most momentous decision and +that an insistent, determined lover was about +to be restored to confidence and pride. "And +now, good-bye." And she gave him her hand +in positive dismissal.</p> + +<p>He took the hand and pressed it hard, +then turned and went away without speaking.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>There was a hint of spring in the air the +afternoon of his leaving. The wind came +from the southwest, brisk and powerful. In +the pale, misty blue of the sky a fleet of small, +white clouds swam, like ships with wide and +bellying sails, low down in the eastern horizon, +and the sight of them somehow made it harder +for Douglass to leave the city of his adoption. +He was powerfully minded to turn back, to remain +on the ferry-boat and land again on the +towering island so heavily freighted with human +sorrows, so brilliant with human joys, +and only a realization that his presence might +trouble and distract Helen kept him to his +journey's westward course.</p> + +<p>As he looked back at the monstrous hive of +men the wonder of Helen's personality came +to him. That she alone, and unaided (save +by her own inborn genius and her beauty), +should have succeeded in becoming distinguished, +even regnant, among so many eager +and striving souls, overwhelmed him with +love and admiration.</p> + +<p>He wondered how he could have assumed +even for an instant the tone of a lover, the +gesture of a master. "I, a poor, restless, penniless +vagabond on the face of the earth—I +presumed to complain of her!" he exclaimed, +and shuddered with guilty disgust +at thought of that night behind the +scenes.</p> + +<p>In this mood he rode out into the West, +which was bleak with winter winds and piled +high with snow. He paused but a day with +his father, whom he found busy prolonging +the lives of the old people with whom the town +was filled. It was always a shock to the son, +this contrast between the outward peace and +well-seeming of his native town and the +inner mortality and swift decay. Even in +a day's visit he felt the grim destroyer's +presence, palpable as the shadow of a +cloud.</p> + +<p>He hastened on to Darien, that curious +mixture of Spanish-Mexican indolence and +bustling American enterprise, a town wherein +his brother Walt had established himself +some years before.</p> + +<p>Walter Douglass was shocked by the change +in his brother. "I can't understand how +fourteen months in New York can reduce a +lusty youth to the color of a cabbage and the +consistency of a gelatine pudding. I reckon +you'd better key yourself down to my pace +for a while. Look at me!"</p> + +<p>The playwright smiled. "I haven't indulged +myself too much. You can't hit a +very high pace on twelve dollars a week."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know. There are cheap +brands of whiskey; and you can breathe the +bad air of a theatre every night if you climb +high enough. I know you've been too strenuous +at some point. Now, what's the meaning +of it all?"</p> + +<p>"I've been working very hard."</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't do it. Look at me. I never +work and never worry. I play. I weigh two +hundred pounds, eat well, sleep like a doorknob, +make about three thousand dollars a +year, and educate my children. I don't want +to seem conceited, but my way of life appeals +to me as philosophic; yours is too wasteful. +Come, now, you're keeping back something. +You might as well 'fess up. What <i>were</i> you +doing?"</p> + +<p>The playwright remained on his guard. +"Well, as I wrote you, I had a couple of +plays accepted and helped to produce them. +There's nothing more wearing than producing +a play. The anxiety is killing."</p> + +<p>"I believe you. I think the writing of one +act would finish me. Yes, I can see that +would be exciting business; but what's all this +about your engagement to some big actress?"</p> + +<p>This brought the blood to the younger man's +cheek, but he was studiedly careless in reply. +"All newspaper talk. Of course, in rehearsing +the play, I saw a great deal of Miss Merival, +but—that's all. She is one of the most successful +and brilliant women on the stage, while +I—well, I am only a 'writing architect,' earning +my board by doing a little dramatic criticism +now and then. You need not put any +other two things together to know how foolish +such reports are."</p> + +<p>Walt seemed satisfied. "Well, my advice +is: slow down to Darien time. Eat and sleep, +and ride a bronco to make you eat more +and sleep harder, and in two weeks you'll be +like your old-time self."</p> + +<p>This advice, so obviously sound, was hard +to follow, for each day brought a letter from +Helen, studiously brief and very sparing of any +terms of affection—frank, good letters, kindly +but no more—and young Douglass was dissatisfied, +and said so. He spent a large part +of each morning pouring out upon paper the +thoughts and feelings surging within him. +He told her of the town, of the delicious, crisp +climate—like October in the East—of the +great snow-peaks to the West, of his rides far +out on the plain, of his plans for the coming +year.</p> + +<p>"I dug an old play out of my trunk to-day" +(he wrote, towards the end of the first week). +"It's the first one I ever attempted. It is +very boyish. I had no problems in my mind +then, but it is worth while. I am going to rewrite +it and send it on to you, for I can't be +idle. I believe you'll like it. It is a love +drama pure and simple."</p> + +<p>To this she replied: "I am interested in +what you say of your first play, but don't +work—rest and enjoy your vacation."</p> + +<p>A few days later he wrote, in exultation: +"I got a grip on the play yesterday and re-wrote +two whole acts. I think I've put some +of the glory of this land and sky into it—I +mean the exultation of health and youth. I +am putting you into it, too—I mean the adoration +I feel for you, my queen!</p> + +<p>"Do you know, all the old wonder of you is +coming back to me. When I think of you as +the great actress my nerves are shaken. Is +it possible that the mysterious Helen Merival +is my Helen? I am mad to rush back to +you to prove it. Isn't it presumptuous of me +to say, 'My Helen'? But at this distance you +cannot reprove me. I came across some +pictures of you in a magazine to-day, and was +thrilled and awed by them. I have not said +anything of Helen MacDavitt to my people, +but of the good and great actress Helen Merival +I speak copiously. They all feel very +grateful to you for helping me. Father thinks +you at least forty. He could not understand +how a woman under thirty could rise to such +eminence as you have attained. Walt also +takes it for granted you are middle-aged. +He knows how long the various 'Maggies' +and 'Ethels' and 'Annies' have been in public +life. He saw something in a paper about us +the other day, but took it as a joke. If this +fourth play of mine comes off, and you find it +worth producing, I shall be happy. It might +counteract the baleful influence of <i>Alessandra</i>. +I began to wonder how I ever did such +a melodrama. Is it as bad as it seems to me +now?...</p> + +<p>"I daren't ask how <i>Enid</i> is doing. It +makes me turn cold to think of the money you +are losing. Wouldn't it pay to let the theatre +go 'dark' till the new thing is ready?...</p> + +<p>"I am amazed at my temerity with you, +serene lady. If I had not been filled with the +colossal conceit of the young author, I never +would have dared to approach—What I did +during those mad weeks (you know the ones +I mean) gives me such shame and suffering as +I have never known, and my whole life is now +ordered to make you forget that side of my +character. I ask myself now, 'What would +Helen have me do?' I don't say this humble +mood will last. If <i>Alessandra</i> should make +a 'barrel of money,' I am capable of soaring +to such heights of audacity that you will be +startled."</p> + +<p>To this she replied: "I am not working at +rehearsal more than is necessary. Mr. Olquest +is a jewel. He has taken the whole +burden of the stage direction off my hands. +I lie in bed till noon each morning and go for +a drive each pleasant afternoon. Our spring +weather is gone. Winter has returned upon us +again.... I miss you very much. For all the +worry you gave us, we found entertainment +in you. Don't trouble about the money we +are losing. Westervelt is putting up all the +cash for the new production and is angelic +of manner—or means to be. I prefer him +when in the dumps. He attends every rehearsal +and is greatly excited over my part. +He now thinks you great, and calls you 'the +American Sardou.' ... I have put all our dismal +hours behind me. 'All this, too, shall pass +away.' ... I care not to what audacity you wing +your way, if only you come back to us your +good, sane, undaunted self once more."</p> + +<p>In this letter, as in all her intercourse with +him, there was restraint, as though love were +being counselled by prudence. And this was, +indeed, the case. A foreboding of all that +an acknowledgment of a man's domination +might mean to her troubled Helen. The question, +"How would marriage affect my plans," +beset her, though she tried to thrust it away, +to retire it to the indefinite future.</p> + +<p>Her love grew steadily, feeding upon his +letters, which became each day more buoyant +and manly, bringing to her again the sense of +unbounded ambition and sane power with +which his presence had filled her at their first +meeting.</p> + +<p>"You are not of the city," she wrote. +"You belong to the country. Think how +near New York came to destroying you. +You ought not to come back. Why don't +you settle out there and take up public life?"</p> + +<p>His answer was definite: "You need not +fear. The city will never again dominate me. +I have found myself—through you. With +you to inspire me I cannot fail. Public life! +Do you mean politics? I am now fit for only +one thing—to write. I have found my work. +And do you think I could live anywhere without +hope of seeing you? My whole life is +directed towards you—to be worthy of you, +to be justified in asking you to join your life +to mine. These are my ambitions, my audacious +desires. I love you, and you must know +that I cannot be content with your friendship—your +affection—which I know I have. I +want your love in return. Not now—not +while I am a man of words merely. As I now +feel <i>Alessandra</i> is a little thing compared with +the sacrifice you have made for me. I have +stripped away all my foolish egotism, and +when I return to see you on the opening night +I shall rejoice in your success without a tinge +of bitterness. It isn't as if the melodrama +were degrading in its appeal. It does not +represent my literary ideals, of course, but it +is not contemptible, it is merely conventional. +My mind <i>has</i> cleared since I came here. I +see myself in proper relation to you and to the +public. I see now that with the large theatre, +with the long 'run' ideals, a play <i>must</i> be very +general in its appeal, and with such conditions +it is folly for us to quarrel. We must have +our own little theatre wherein we can play the +subtler phases of American life—the phases +we both rejoice in. If <i>Alessandra</i> should pay +my debt to you—- you see how my mind +comes back to that thought—we will use it +to build our own temple of art. As I think +of you there, toiling without me, I am wild +with desire to return to be doing something. +I am ready now to turn my hand to any +humble thing—to direct rehearsals, to design +costumes, anything, only to be near you. +One word from you and I will come."</p> + +<p>To this she replied: "No; on the contrary, +you must stay a week longer. We have postponed +the production on account of some extra +scenic effect which Hugh wishes to perfect. +They profess wonder now at your knowledge +of scenic effect as well as your eye for costume +and stage-setting. Your last letter disturbed +me greatly, while it pleased me. I liked its +tone of boyish enthusiasm, but your directness +of speech scared me. I'm almost afraid to +meet you. You men are so literal, so insistent +in your demands. A woman doesn't know +what she wants—sometimes; she doesn't like +to be brought to bay so roundly. You have +put so much at stake on <i>Alessandra</i> that +I am a-tremble with fear of consequences. +If it succeeds you will be insufferably conceited +and assured; if it fails we will never +see you again. Truly the life of a star is not +all glitter."</p> + +<p>This letter threw him into a panic. He +hastened to disclaim any wish to disturb her. +"If you will forgive me this time I will not +offend again. I did not mean to press for an +answer. I distinctly said that at present I +have no right to do so. I daren't do so, in +fact. I send you, under another cover, the +youthful play which I call <i>The Morning</i>. +Isn't that fanciful enough? It means, of +course, that I am now just reaching the point +in my life where the man of thirty-odd looks +back upon the boy of eighteen with a wistful +tenderness, feeling that the mystery of the +world has in some sense departed with the +morning. Of a certainty this idea is not new, +but I took a joy in writing this little idyl, and +I would like to see you do 'the wonderful +lady I see in my dreams.' Can you find an +actor who can do my lad of 'the poetic +fancy'?"</p> + +<p>She replied to this: "Your play made me cry, +for I, too, am leaving the dewy morning behind. +I like this play; it is very tender and +beautiful, and do you know I believe it would +touch more hearts than your gorgeous melodrama. +Mr. Howells somewhere beautifully +says that when he is most intimate in the disclosures +of his own feelings he finds himself +most widely responded to—or something like +that. I really am eager to do this play. It +has increased my wonder of your powers. I +really begin to feel that I know only part of +you. First <i>Lillian's Duty</i> taught me some +of your stern Scotch morality. Then <i>Enid's +Choice</i> revealed to me your conception of the +integrity of a good woman's soul—that nothing +can debase it. <i>Alessandra</i> disclosed your +learning and your imaginative power. Now +here I feel the poet, the imaginative boy. +I will not say this has increased my faith in +you—it has added to my knowledge of you. +But I must confess to you it has made it very +difficult for me to go on with <i>Alessandra</i>. +All the other plays are in line of a national +drama. <i>Alessandra</i> is a bitter and ironical +concession. <i>The Morning</i> makes its splendor +almost tawdry. It hurt me to go to rehearsal +to-day. Westervelt's presence was a +gloating presence, and I hated him. Hugh's +report of the exultant 'I told you so's' of the +dramatic critics sickened me—" Her letter +ended abruptly, almost at this point.</p> + +<p>His reply contained these words: "It is not +singular that you feel irritated by <i>Alessandra</i> +while I am growing resigned, for you are in +daily contact with the sordid business. Tell +me I may come back. I want to be at the +opening. I know you will secure a great personal +triumph. I want to see you shining +again amid a shower of roses. I want to help +take your horses from your carriage, and +wheel you in glory through the streets as they +used to do in olden times as tribute to their +great favorites. I haven't seen a New York +paper since I came West. I hope you have +put <i>Enid</i> away. What is the use wearing +yourself out playing a disastrous rôle while +forced to rehearse a new one? My longing +to see you is so great that the sight of your +picture on my desk is a sweet torture. Write +me that you want me, dearest."</p> + +<p>She replied, very simply: "You may come. +Our opening night is now fixed for Monday +next. You will have just time to get here. +All is well."</p> + +<p>To this he wired reply: "I start to-night. +Arrive on Monday at Grand Central. Eleven-thirty."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Helen was waiting for him at the gate of +the station in a beautiful spring hat, her face +abloom, her eyes dancing, and the sight of her +robbed him of all caution. Dropping his +valise, he rushed towards her, intent to take +her in his arms.</p> + +<p>She stopped him with one outstretched +hand. "How well you look!" Her voice, +so rich, so vibrant, moved him like song.</p> + +<p>"And you—you are the embodiment of +spring." Then, in a low voice, close to her +ear, he added: "I love you! I love you! +How beautiful you are!"</p> + +<p>"Hush!" She lifted a finger in a gesture of +warning. "You must not say such things to +me—here." With the addition of that final +word her face grew arch. Then in a louder +tone: "I was right, was I not, to send you +away?"</p> + +<p>"I am a new being," he answered, "morally +and physically. But tell me, what is +the meaning of these notices? Have you put +<i>The Morning</i> on in place of <i>Alessandra</i>?"</p> + +<p>Hugh interposed. "That's what she's +done," and offered his hand with unexpected +cordiality.</p> + +<p>"You take my breath away," said Douglass. +"I can't follow your reckless campaigns."</p> + +<p>"We'll explain. We're not as reckless as +we seem."</p> + +<p>They began to move towards the street, +Hugh leading the way with the playwright's +bag.</p> + +<p>Helen laughed at her lover's perplexity and +dismay. "You look befoozled."</p> + +<p>"I am. I can't understand. After all that +work and expense—after all my toilsome +grind—my sacrifice of principles."</p> + +<p>She was close to his shoulder as she said, +looking up at him with beaming, tender eyes:</p> + +<p>"That's just it. I couldn't accept your +offering. After <i>The Morning</i> came in, my +soul revolted. I ordered the <i>Alessandra</i> +manuscript brought in. Do you know what I +did with it?"</p> + +<p>"Rewrote it, I hope."</p> + +<p>Her face expressed daring, humor, triumph, +but the hand lifted to the chin expressed a +little apprehension as she replied: "Rewrote +it? No, I didn't think of that. <i>I burned it.</i>"</p> + +<p>He stopped, unconscious of the streaming +crowds. "Burned it! I can't believe you. +My greatest work—"</p> + +<p>"It is gone." The smile died out of her +eyes, her face became very grave and very +sweet. "I couldn't bear to have you bow +your head to please a public not worthy of +you. The play was un-American, and should +not have been written by you."</p> + +<p>He was dazed by the enormous consequences +of this action, and his mind flashed from point +to point before he answered, in a single word: +"Westervelt."</p> + +<p>Thereat they both laughed, and she explained. +"It was dreadful. He raged, he +shook the whole block as he trotted to and fro +tearing his hair. I think he wished to tear +my hair. He really resembled the elder +Salvini as Othello—you know the scene I +mean. I gave him a check to compensate +him. He tore it up and blew it into the air +with a curse. Oh, it was beautiful comedy. +I told him our interview would make a hit as +a 'turn' on the vaudeville stage. Nothing +could calm him. I was firm, and <i>Alessandra</i> +was in ashes."</p> + +<p>They moved on out upon the walk and into +the hideous clamor of Forty-second Street, his +mind still busy with the significance of her +news. Henry Olquest in an auto sat waiting +for them. After a quick hand-shake Douglass +lifted Helen to her place, followed her with a +leap, and they were off on a ride which represented +to him more than an association +with success—it seemed a triumphal progress. +Something in Helen's eyes exalted him, filled +his throat with an emotion nigh to tears. +His eyes were indeed smarting as she turned +to say: "You are just in time for dress rehearsal. +Do you want to see it?"</p> + +<p>"No, I leave it all to you. I want to be +the author if I can. I want to get the +thrill."</p> + +<p>"I think you will like our production. Mr. +Olquest has done marvels with it. You'll +enjoy it; I know you will. It will restore your +lost youth to you."</p> + +<p>"I hope it will restore some of your lost +dollars. I saw by the papers that you were +still struggling with <i>Enid</i>. I shudder to think +what that means. The other poor little play +will never be able to lift that huge debt."</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure about that," she gayly +answered. "The rehearsals have almost resigned"—she +pointed at Hugh's back—"him +to the change."</p> + +<p>"I confess I was surprised by his cordial +greeting."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's quite shifted his point of view. +He thinks <i>The Morning</i> may 'catch 'em' on +other grounds."</p> + +<p>"And you—you are radiant. I expected +to find you worn out. You dazzle me."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't look at me then. Look at +the avenue. Isn't it fine this morning?"</p> + +<p>He took her hint. "It is glorious. I feel +that I am again at the centre of things. +After all, this is our one great city, the only +place where life is diverse enough to give the +dramatist his material. I begin to understand +the attitude of actors when they land +from the ferry-boat, draw a long breath, and +say, 'Thank God, I'm in New York again.'"</p> + +<p>"It's the only city in America where an +artist can be judged by his peers. I suppose +that is one reason why we love it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's worth conquering, and I'll make +my mark upon it yet," and his tone was a note +of self-mastery as well as of resolution. "It +is a city set on a hill. To take it brings great +glory and lasting honor."</p> + +<p>She smiled up at him again, a proud light +in her eyes. "Now you are your good, rugged +self, the man who 'hypnotized' me into taking +<i>Lillian's Duty</i>. You'll need all your courage; +the critics are to be out in force."</p> + +<p>"I do not fear them," he answered, as they +whirled into the plaza and up to the side entrance +of the hotel.</p> + +<p>"I've engaged a room for you here, Douglass," +said Hugh, and the new note of almost +comradeship struck the playwright with wonder. +He was a little sceptical of it.</p> + +<p>"Very well," he answered. "I am reckless. +I will stay one day."</p> + +<p>"Mother will be waiting to see you," said +Helen, as they entered the hall. "She is your +stanch supporter."</p> + +<p>"She is a dear mother. I wish she were +my own."</p> + +<p>Each word he uttered now carried a hidden +meaning, and some inner relenting, some sweet, +secret concession which he dimly felt but dared +not presume upon, gave her a girlish charm +which she had never before worn in his eyes.</p> + +<p>They took lunch together, seated at the +same table in the same way, and yet not in +the same spirit. He was less self-centred, less +insistent. His winter of proved inefficiency, +his sense of indebtedness to her, his all-controlling +love for her gave him a new appeal. +He was at once tender and humorous as he +referred again to <i>Alessandra</i>.</p> + +<p>"Well, now that my chief work of art is +destroyed, I must begin again at the bottom. +I have definitely given up all idea of following +my profession. I am going to do specials +for one of the weeklies. Anderson has interceded +for me. I am to enter the ranks of +the enemy. I am not sure but I ought to +do a criticism of my own play to-morrow +night."</p> + +<p>She was thinking of other things. "Tell +me of your people. Did you talk of me to +them? What did they say of me?"</p> + +<p>"They all think of you as a kind, middle-aged +lady, who has been very good to a poor +country boy."</p> + +<p>She laughed. "How funny! Why should +they think me so old?"</p> + +<p>"They can't conceive how a mere girl can +be so rich and powerful. How could they +realize the reckless outpouring of gold which +flows from those who seek pleasure to those +who give it."</p> + +<p>She grew instantly graver. "They would +despise me if they knew. I don't like being a +mere toy of the public—a pleasure-giver and +nothing else. Of course there are different +ways of pleasing. That is why I couldn't +do <i>Alessandra</i>. Tell me of your brother. I +liked what you wrote of him. He is our direct +opposite, isn't he? Does he talk as well as +you reported, or were you polishing him a +little?"</p> + +<p>"No, Walt has a remarkable taste in words. +He has always been the literary member of +our family, but is too lazy to write. He is +content to grow fat in his little round of +daily duties."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if we haven't lost something +by becoming enslaved to the great city! +Our pleasures are more intense, but they <i>do</i> +wear us out. Think of you and me to-morrow +night—our anxiety fairly cancelling our pleasure—and +then think of your brother going +leisurely home to his wife, his babies, and his +books. I don't know—sometimes when I +think of growing old in a flat or a hotel I am +appalled. I hate to keep mother here. Sometimes +I think of giving it all up for a year or +two and going back to the country, just to see +how it would affect me. I don't want to get +artificial and slangy with no interests but the +stage, like so many good actresses I know. +It's such a horribly egotistic business—"</p> + +<p>"There are others," he said.</p> + +<p>"Writers are bad enough, but actors and +opera-singers are infinitely worse. Mother +has helped me." She put her soft palm on her +mother's wrinkled hand. "Nothing can spoil +mother; nothing can take away the home atmosphere—not +even the hotel. Well, now I +must go to our final rehearsal. I will not see +you again till the close of the second act. You +must be in your place to-night," she said, with +tender warning. "I want to see your face +whenever I look for it."</p> + +<p>"I am done with running away," he answered, +as he slowly released her hand. "I +shall pray for your success—not my own."</p> + +<p>"Fortunately my success is yours."</p> + +<p>"In the deepest sense that is true," he answered.</p> + + + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + + +<div class="figleft" style="margin-top: 0.25em;"> +<img src="images/268-cap.png" alt="A" title="A" /></div> +<p><span class="smcap">S</span> Douglass entered the theatre +that night Westervelt met him +with beaming smile. "I am +glad to see you looking so +well, Mr. Douglass." He nodded +and winked. "You are all right now, +my boy. You have them coming. I was all +wrong."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't she tell you?"</p> + +<p>"You mean about the advance sale?—no."</p> + +<p>Westervelt grew cautious. "Oh—well, then, +I will be quiet. She wants to tell you. She +will do so."</p> + +<p>"Advance sale must be good," thought the +playwright, as he walked on into the auditorium. +The ushers smiled, and the old gatekeeper +greeted him shortly.</p> + +<p>"Ye've won out, Mr. Douglass."</p> + +<p>"Can it be that this play is to mark the +returning tide of Helen's popularity?" he +asked himself, and a tremor of excitement ran +over him, the first thrill of the evening. Up +to this moment he had a curious sense of +aloofness, indifference, as if the play were not +his own but that of a stranger. He began +now to realize that this was his third attempt +to win the favor of the public, and according +to an old boyish superstition should be successful.</p> + +<p>Helen had invited a great American writer—a +gracious and inspiring personality—to occupy +her box to meet her playwright, and +once within his seat Douglass awaited the +coming of the great man with impatience and +concern. He was conscious of a great change +in himself and his attitude towards Helen +since he last sat waiting for the curtain to rise.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—not even the dropping of an act—could +rouse in me the slightest resentment +towards her." He flushed with torturing +shame at the recollection of his rage, his selfish, +demoniacal, egotistic fury over the omission +of his pet lines.</p> + +<p>"I was insane," he muttered, pressing a +hand to his eyes as if to shut out the memory +of Helen's face as she looked that night. +"And she forgave me! She must have known +I was demented." And her sweetness, her +largeness of sympathy again overwhelmed +him. "Dare I ask her to marry me?" He +no longer troubled himself about her wealth +nor with the difference between them as to +achievement, but he comprehended at last +that her superiority lay in her ability to forgive, +in her power to inspire love and confidence, +in her tact, her consideration for others, +her wondrous unselfishness.</p> + +<p>"What does the public know of her real +greatness? Capable of imagining the most diverse +types of feminine character, living each +night on the stage in an atmosphere of heartless +and destructive intrigue, she yet retains a +divine integrity, an inalienable graciousness. +Dare I, a moody, selfish brute, touch the hem +of her garment?"</p> + +<p>In this mood he watched the audience +gather—a smiling, cheerful-voiced, neighborly +throng. There were many young girls among +them, and their graceful, bared heads gave to +the orchestra chairs a brilliant and charmingly +intimate effect. The <i>roué</i>, the puffed and +beefy man of sensual type, was absent. The +middle-aged, bespangled, gluttonous woman +was absent. The faces were all refined and +gracious—an audience selected by a common +interest from among the millions who dwell +within an hour's travel of the theatre.</p> + +<p>Douglass fancied he could detect in these +auditors the same feeling of security, of satisfaction, +of comfort with which they were +accustomed to sit down of an evening with a +new book by a favorite author.</p> + +<p>"If I could but win a place like that," he +exclaimed to himself, "I would be satisfied. +It can be done when the right man comes."</p> + +<p>A dinner engagement delayed the eminent +author, but he came in as the curtain was rising, +and, shaking hands cordially, presented +Mr. Rufus Brown, a visiting London critic.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Brown is deeply interested in your attempt +to do an American play," said the great +novelist. "I hope—I am sure he will witness +your triumph to-night." Thereupon they +took seats with flattering promptness in order +not to miss a word of the play.</p> + +<p>Helen, coming on a moment after, was given +a greeting almost frenziedly cordial, and when +she bowed her eyes sought the box in which +her lover sat, and the audience, seeing the +distinguished novelist and feeling some connection +between them, renewed their applause. +Douglass, at the back of the box, rose and stood +with intent to express to Helen the admiration, +the love, and the respect which he felt for her. +She was, indeed, "the beautiful, golden-haired +lady" of whom he had written as a boy, and +a singular timidity, a wave of worship went +over him.</p> + +<p>He became the imaginative lad of the play, +who stood in awe and worship of mature +womanhood. The familiar Helen was gone, +the glittering woman was gone, and in her +place stood the ideal of the boy—the author +himself had returned to "the land of morning +glow"—to the time when the curl of a woman's +lip was greater than any war. The boy +on the stage chanted:</p> + +<div class="poem"> <div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Where I shall find her I know not.</span> +<span class="i0">But I trust in the future! To me</span> +<span class="i0">She will come. I am not forgot.</span> +<span class="i0">Out in the great world she's waiting,</span> +<span class="i0">Perhaps by the shore of the sea,</span> +<span class="i0">By the fabulous sea, where the white sand gleams,</span> +<span class="i0">I shall meet her and know her and claim her.</span> +<span class="i0">The beautiful, stately lady I see in my dreams."</span> +</div> </div> + +<p>"I dare not claim her," said the man, humbled +by her beauty. "I am not worthy of +her."</p> + +<p>The applause continued to rise instant and +cordial in support of players and play. Auditors, +actors, and author seemed in singularly +harmonious relation. As the curtain fell cries +of approval mingled with the hand-clapping.</p> + +<p>The novelist reached a kindly hand. +"You've found your public, my dear fellow. +These people are here after an intelligent study +of your other plays. This is a gallant beginning. +Don't you think so, Brown?"</p> + +<p>"Very interesting attempt to dramatize +those boyish fancies," the English critic replied. +"But I don't quite see how you can +advance on these idyllic lines. It's pretty, +but is it drama?"</p> + +<p>"He will show us," replied the novelist. +"I have great faith in Mr. Douglass. He is +helping to found an American drama. You +must see his other plays."</p> + +<p>Westervelt came to the box wheezing with +excitement. "My boy, you are made. The +critics are disarmed. They begin to sing of +you."</p> + +<p>Douglass remained calm. "There is plenty +of time for them to turn bitter," he answered. +"I am most sceptical when they are gracious."</p> + +<p>The second act left the idyllic ground, and +by force of stern contrast held the audience +enthralled. The boy was being disillusioned. +<i>The Morning</i> had grown gray. Doubt of +his ideal beset the poet. The world's forces +began to benumb and appall him. His ideal +woman passed to the possession of another. +He lost faith in himself. The cloud deepened, +the sky, overshadowed as by tempest, let fall +lightning and a crash of thunder. So the act +closed.</p> + +<p>The applause was unreservedly cordial—no +one failed to join in the fine roar—and in +the midst of it Douglass, true to his promise, +hurried back to the scenes to find Helen.</p> + +<p>She met him, radiant with excitement. +"My brave boy! You have won your victory. +They are calling for you." He protested. She +insisted. "No, no. It is <i>you</i>. I've been out. +Hear them; they want the author. Come!"</p> + +<p>Dazed and wordless, weak from stage-fright, +he permitted himself to be led forth into the +terrifying glare of the footlight world. There +his guide left him, abandoned him, pitifully +exposed to a thousand eyes, helpless and +awkward. He turned to flee, to follow her, +but the roguish smile on her face, as she kissed +her fingers towards him, somehow roused his +pride and gave him courage to face the tumult. +As he squared himself an awesome silence +settled over the house—a silence that inspired +as well as appalled by its expectancy.</p> + +<p>"Friends, I thank you," the pale and +resolute author weakly began. "I didn't +know I had so many friends in the world. +Two minutes ago I was so scared my teeth +chattered. Now I am entirely at my ease—you +notice that." The little ripple of laughter +which followed this remark really gave +him time to think—gave him courage. "I +feel that I am at last face to face with an +audience that knows my work—that is ready +to support a serious attempt at playwriting. +I claim that a play may do something more +than amuse—it may <i>interest</i>. There is a wide +difference, you will see. To be an amusement +merely is to degrade our stage to the level of a +Punch-and-Judy show. I am sorry for tired +men and weary women, but as a dramatist I +can't afford to take their troubles into account. +I am writing for those who are mentally alert +and willing to support plays that have at +least the dignity of intention which lies in our +best novels. This does not mean gloomy plays +or problem plays, but it does mean conscientious +study of American life. If you like me +as well after the close of the play"—he made +dramatic pause—"well I shall not be able to +sleep to-night. I sincerely thank you. You +have given me a fair hearing—that is all I can +ask—and I am very grateful."</p> + +<p>This little speech seemed to please his auditors, +but his real reward came when Helen +met him at the wings and caught his arm to +her side in an ecstatic little hug. "You did +beautifully! You make me afraid of you when +you stand tall and grand like that. You were +scared though. I could see that."</p> + +<p>"You deserted me," he answered, in mock +accusation. "You led me into the crackling +musketry and ran away."</p> + +<p>"I wanted to see of what metal you were +made," she answered, and fled to her dressing-room +to prepare for the final act.</p> + +<p>"Now for the real test," said the novelist, +with a kindly smile. "I think we could all +write plays if it were not for the difficulty of +ending them."</p> + +<p>"I begin to tremble for my climax," Douglass +answered. "It is so important to leave +a sweet and sonorous sound in the ear at the +last. It must die on the sense like the sound +of a bell."</p> + +<p>"It's a remarkable achievement, do you +know," began the English critic, "to carry a +parable along with a realistic study of life. +I can't really see how you're coming out."</p> + +<p>"I don't know myself," replied Douglass.</p> + +<p>The play closed quietly, with a subjective +climax so deep, so true to human nature that +it laid hold upon every heart. The applause +was slow in rising, but grew in power till it +filled the theatre like some great anthem. +No one rose, no one was putting on wraps. +The spell lasted till the curtain rose three +times on the final picture.</p> + +<p>Douglass could not speak as the critic shook +his hand. It was so much more affecting than +he had dared to hope. To sit there while his +ideals, his hopes, his best thoughts, his finest +conceptions were thus gloriously embodied +was the greatest pleasure of his life. All his +doubt and bitterness was lost in a flood of +gratitude to Helen and to the kindly audience.</p> + +<p>As soon as he could decently escape he hurried +again to Helen. The stage this time was +crowded with people. The star was hid, as of +old, in a mob of her admirers, but they were +of finer quality than ever before. The grateful +acknowledgment of these good people was +an inspiration. Every one smiled, and yet +in the eyes of many of the women tears +sparkled.</p> + +<p>Helen, catching sight of her lover, lifted her +hand and called to him, and though he shrank +from entering the throng he obeyed. Those +who recognized him fell back with a sort of +awe of his good-fortune. Helen reached her +hand, saying, huskily, "I am tired—take me +away."</p> + +<p>He took her arm and turned to the people +still crowding to speak to her. "Friends, Miss +Merival is very weary. I beg you to excuse +her. It has been a very hard week for her."</p> + +<p>And with an air of mastery, as significant as +it was unconscious he led her to her room.</p> + +<p>Safely inside the door she turned, and with +a finger to her lips, a roguish light in her eyes, +she said: "I want to tell you something. I +can't wait any longer. <i>Enid's Choice</i> ran to +the capacity of the house last week."</p> + +<p>For a moment he did not realize the full +significance of this. "What! <i>Enid's Choice</i>? +Why, how can that be? I thought—"</p> + +<p>"We had twelve hundred and eighty dollars +at the Saturday matinée and eleven hundred +at night. Of course part of this was due +to the knowledge that it was the last day of +the piece, but there is no doubt of its success."</p> + +<p>A choking came to his throat, his eyes grew +dim. "I can't believe it. Such success is impossible +to me."</p> + +<p>"It is true, and that is the reason I was able +to burn <i>Alessandra</i>."</p> + +<p>"And that is the reason Hugh and Westervelt +were so cordial, and I thought it was all +on account of the advance sale of <i>The Morning</i>!"</p> + +<p>"And this is only the beginning. I intend +to play all your plays in a repertoire, and +you're to write me others as I need them. +And finally—and this I hate to acknowledge—you +are no longer in my debt."</p> + +<p>"That I know is not true," he said. "Everything +I am to-night I owe to you."</p> + +<p>"The resplendent author has made the +wondrous woman very proud and yet very +humble to-night," she ended, softly, with eyelashes +drooping.</p> + +<p>"She has reared a giant that seeks to devour +her." He caught her to his side. "Do you +know what all this means to you and to me? +It means that we are to be something more +than playwright and star. It means that I +will not be satisfied till your life and mine are +one."</p> + +<p>She put him away in such wise that her +gesture of dismissal allured. "You must go, +dearest. Our friends are waiting, and I must +dress. Some time I will tell you how much—you +have become to me—but not now!"</p> + +<p>He turned away exultant, for her eyes had +already confessed the secret which her lips +still shrank from uttering.</p> + + +<h4>THE END</h4> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Light of the Star, by Hamlin Garland + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIGHT OF THE STAR *** + +***** This file should be named 28492-h.htm or 28492-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/4/9/28492/ + +Produced by David Yingling, Matt Whittaker, Bethanne M. +Simms, David Garcia and the Online Distributed Proofreading +Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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