by Fred Thorpe
CHAPTER VII.
THE DEBUT.
Mr. Wattles sank into a convenient chair.
"Well," he said, with an air of stony resignation, "there's no use infighting against fate. I give it up. We'll return the people their moneyand shut up the house."
"What's the matter?" asked Al.
"Why," replied Sparkley, "Miss Hollingsworth, who has been playing thepart that Mrs. Anderson is billed for, has been here, and has had aninterview with her successor, and got her so worked up that sheabsolutely refuses to appear."
"Why, I told the woman that she needn't come at all to-night!" cried Mr.Wattles.
"Well, she's here as large as life."
"Why did you let her in, Sparkley?"
"I couldn't very well refuse her admittance; she is a member of thecompany."
"That's so."
"Besides, I had no idea that she was going to raise a row. I think thatFarley was at the bottom of the business; I saw him talking to heroutside just before she came in."
"You did? That explains the whole thing. Well, I'm just going to letthings take their course."
At this moment Mrs. Anderson came rushing toward them, evidentlygreatly excited. She was closely followed by a young woman, quite asmuch agitated as herself.
Both women began talking at once, and it was two or three minutes beforeMr. Wattles could make himself heard. When at last he succeeded in doingso, he said:
"Now, ladies, if you will speak one at a time, and talk slow, I will tryto straighten things out. What is the trouble, Mrs. Anderson?"
"That woman," sobbed the society belle, indicating the actress, "hasgrossly insulted me. I cannot, I will not play."
"Have you forgotten your promise to me, Mrs. Anderson?" interposed Al.
"No, I have not, and I am very sorry that I cannot fulfill it. But it isimpossible."
"I only told her," snapped Miss Hollingsworth, a fiery-looking,dark-haired, black-eyed woman, "that she was a rank amateur, and so sheis. Why, it is an insult to give such a woman my part!"
"Yes, that's what she said," cried Mrs. Anderson, in a high-pitchedvoice. "I would never play the part unless she was discharged."
The manager's face lighted up.
"Will you play," he asked, "if I discharge her?"
"Yes."
"That settles it. Miss Hollingsworth, you are discharged."
"Wha-a-t?" screamed the actress.
"You heard what I said. You are given the usual two weeks' notice."
"I am discharged, I, Olga Hollingsworth, on account of this woman?"
"No, you are discharged because these exhibitions of bad temper on yourpart have tired me out. And now, madam," turning to Mrs. Anderson andspeaking with the utmost politeness, "will you kindly return to yourdressing room and complete your preparations for your appearance? Youwill have to go on in less than fifteen minutes."
"I will do so, sir."
And with a withering glance at the actress, the mayor's wife swept away.
"You shan't forget this evening's work in a hurry, Mr. Gus Wattles!"hissed the enraged Miss Hollingsworth. "You'll rue the day when you madeDick Farley and me your enemies!"
"So Farley is at the bottom of all this, is he?" said the manager. "Ithought so."
"Never mind whether he is or not," was the actress' reply. "I wish yougood-evening, Wattles. I don't want your two weeks' notice. I wouldn'tplay in your company again for ten times the miserable salary you paidme. Find some one else to play the part to-morrow night or shut up thehouse."
With these words and a vindictive glance, the woman left the theater,slamming the stage door violently behind her.
Mr. Wattles drew a long breath of relief.
"I'm glad to get rid of her," he said. "This isn't the first time sheand I have had words. I'll have another woman here to play the partto-morrow night, or I'll cut it out altogether; it isn't of anyimportance, anyhow. And, I say, I believe that Mrs. Anderson has themaking of an actress in her, after all. She's as good a kicker as if shehad been in the business all her life. No danger of her suffering fromstage fright; she has too good an opinion of herself. Well, I must goaround to the front now. Come with me and see how things look."
The house was, as Al had predicted, packed to the doors; even standingroom was at a premium. Such an audience had never been seen in the operahouse before.
The souvenir spoons had proved a great success; everyone was extollingthe liberality of the management.
"This is immense," chuckled Mr. Wattles, rubbing his hands. "Allston,you are a trump. I wish you could do this in every town we visit."
"Well, I'll do my best to repeat the success," smiled Al. "What can't bedone in one way can in another."
"And you're the lad who can do it. But the curtain is going up. I hopeMrs. Anderson will be all right. She comes on in less than five minutes.Come up to the manager's box now; it's the only place in the house wherewe can get a seat."
The two elbowed their way through the crowd; and, not without somedifficulty, reached the box in question. They had hardly taken theirseats when Mrs. Anderson stepped upon the stage. Her appearance was thesignal for a perfect whirlwind of applause.
"Well," said Mr. Wattles, as the lady stood bowing and smiling, "she isa good-looker, anyway. She's as well made up as if she'd been in theprofesh for years; and, by Jove! she's as cool as a veteran! What areception! Irving himself couldn't ask for a better one."
In fact, it was nearly or quite three minutes before the debutante couldgo on with her part. By this time the stage was half filled with "floraltributes," one huge piece being from the board of aldermen. When themayor, who was seated in an opposite box, saw this, his face, which haduntil then worn a rather gloomy expression, lighted up, and he began tomanifest some signs of interest in the performance.
As Mr. Wattles had said, the part that had been assigned to Mrs.Anderson was one of very little importance. It would have been difficultto make a failure of it. The lady recited her lines well, and when sheleft the stage she was furiously applauded.
"That shows what the public appreciation of the drama amounts to,"remarked Mr. Wattles, sarcastically, although he had applauded Mrs.Anderson as loudly as anyone. "You can't hear yourself think for thenoise they make about this society woman; yet, on the same stage thereis a little girl who has real talent. But they ignore her."
"You mean the young lady who plays the part of _Ethel Darlington_?"questioned Al.
"Yes, of course I do. I see that you, at least, know good acting whenyou see it; but here comes Mrs. Anderson again. Ah! that old fellow inthe box over there is going to make a speech."
Al recognized in the "old fellow" referred to one of Boomville'sprominent citizens--a certain Maj. Duncan.
The major, who enjoyed nothing in life more than hearing himself talk inpublic or in private, had risen in his seat and was signaling forsilence.
In a few moments the house was so still that the fall of the traditionalpin would have startled the more nervous portion of the audience.
The major, standing at the edge of the box, delivered, in a sonorousvoice, a fulsome speech of praise, addressed to Mrs. Anderson, ending bypresenting her with a wreath of laurels.
The lady, not in the least embarrassed, made a brief reply, and wasabout to resume her part, when Maj. Duncan, who had remained standing,said:
"But this is not all. There is here to-night a young fellow townsman ofours of whom Boomville should be proud. I refer to the gentleman seatedin the proscenium box on the other side."
And the orator fixed his eyes on Al's face.