Jane Allen, Center

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER XXVIII--MADAM NALASKY

  The promised long waits, in the offices and parlors of musical talenthad descended upon Mrs. Weatherbee and Jane. It having been impossibleto make an appointment for his interviews, the director was acceptingthe situation philosophically, but it was trying, and all butexhausting.

  "You see, my dear," she explained to Jane, "by seeing them personally,we have a chance to solicit their interest in our college, and some ofthese singers are the daughters of former students. That gives us anopening. This lady we are now waiting for is a stranger, but if we canobtain her promise to sing for us, our concert will be an assuredsuccess. She is the rage of the season, and a wonderful concertsoprano."

  "Oh, yes, I have seen her pictures, and read her name many timeslately," Jane followed. "As you say, Mrs. Weatherbee, it will meaneverything if we can secure her."

  "But I have to go back to that violinist at three, my dear, and Mme.Nalasky will not be able to appear from her boudoir until two thirty. Iwonder if I could leave you here, and go myself to the violinist? Then,if Madam appears you might make the preliminary appeal. I hate to leaveit to you, but I feel you would have a better chance with her than withthe other, and I cannot be in both places at the same time."

  "Oh, I shall be glad to try, Mrs. Weatherbee," assented Jane, ratherglad indeed at the prospect of a quiet half hour in the luxurious room,in which strangers, properly introduced, daily awaited the presence ofthe noted singer. "If Madam appears I shall do my best."

  Satisfied it was perfectly safe to leave her charge in the room so wellpeopled with women servants of the prima donna, one a secretary, oneevidently a personal maid, and still another a matronly woman whoattended to strangers after they had successfully passed the hall boy'sscrutiny and stereotyped interrogations, Mrs. Weatherbee hurried offfor her final word from the elusive violinist.

  Jane settled down deeply in her cushions. But presently she was awareof a stir in the room.

  "Madam is ready," briefly announced the secretary, taking the card fromthe young woman who had been waiting longest.

  Jane sat up attentively. The girl with the great fur scarf was usheredinto the next room. No one read or shifted about the waiting room now.Everyone was expectant, and evidently a little excited.

  "Oh, if Mrs. Weatherbee is not here!" breathed Jane. Then she tidied upher belongings, and prepared to be ushered in, if that good fortunecame her way next.

  She must plead for Wellington. And perhaps she would be able to do somore effectively than she had supposed. The girl with the fur scarf andgreat bundle of music was coming out smiling. Her interview had beensatisfactory, Jane guessed, and very likely it had to do with a musicalambition. Jane hoped so.

  Her own card was in her hand when the secretary approached. Thatfunctionary took it with a pleasant nod and disappeared. Jane felt justa little nervous. She had secretly hoped Mrs. Weatherbee would appearin time for the interview.

  "Miss Allen!" called the attendant, and Jane self-consciously followedinto the sanctum.

  The soft luxury of the room was almost lost upon Jane, so intent wasshe on her mission, and so fascinated was her gaze by the livingpicture sitting in the small mahogany chair. This was Mme. Nalasky. Shesmiled so frankly as Jane approached, the latter's embarrassment wasswept away in her all-embracing welcome.

  "Oh, my dear little girl," spoke the noted singer, with a distinctlyforeign accent. "What can I do for you?" After a preliminary word ofexplanation Jane briefly told of the Golden Jubilee Concert.

  "Oh, yes, I have been informed by your honored president. I know of himfor many years--that is, quite many." She corrected herself, for onecould see the woman was young, and very charming in her blonde, fairbeauty.

  Jane then attempted to tell of the talent already secured, and beingsomewhat at a loss to guarantee, as yet, anything like a brilliantarray, to support so noted an artist as Mme. Nalasky, she ventured tosuggest that a young girl at college would play the violin, and Janedeclared further, this young girl was quite a promising artist.

  In this Madam was at once interested. "I always like to hear of theyoung stars," she said. "Sometimes a very little star comes outwonderfully when all the cobwebs in her sky have been cleared away."

  Thus encouraged, Jane unfolded quite a story of Helen's achievement.Then she remembered the _Bugle_. Therein had been expressed a view ofHelen's ability, better than Jane could hope to recount, so without athought, other than that to benefit the concert, Jane drew from her bagthe copy of the _Bugle_, with its bewildering arraignment of Helen'spower.

  The artist glanced at the little sheet with polite but indifferentinterest. Jane felt, for a moment, she had made a mistake in offeringso humble a testimonial. Then suddenly the prima donna sat erect. Hereyes showed intense interest. Her long, wonderfully tapering fingersseemed to clutch the much-abused little _Bugle_ with an intensity atonce strange and foreign to the occasion.

  "Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed. "Tell me what is this? Who is this littleartist?" and she glared at Jane as if trying to obtain in that fixedgaze some explanation of the lines she had just read.

  "Why!" faltered Jane. "She is a little freshman--who is at Wellington.She is a very great friend of mine."

  "But tell me about her!" begged the woman, actually seizing Jane'shands. "What does she look like? What is her real name? Do you know?Please tell me quickly."

  Jane now saw the prima donna was laboring under some great strain andexcitement. So apparent was her agitation the secretary, who hadremained at a respectful distance during the interview, hastened to theside of her mistress.

  "Oh, pray, what is it, Madam?" she asked in alarm. "Why suchexcitement?"

  "But, Marie, you cannot know!" gasped the artist. "This is more to methan life itself. Oh, what if it should be----" she hesitated. "Littlelady!" she again directly addressed Jane. "Can you tell me just whatthe Polish girl looks like? Has she pretty eyes and pretty hair? And isshe a sweet child? Oh, how shall I ever wait to know!"

  The intensity of the excitement was proving too much for Madam Nalasky,and Jane ardently wished she had kept the hapless _Bugle_ to herself.But it was too late now. Besides this, in offering the flatteringtribute of Helen's ability to the singer, Jane had a sense of makingthe artist acquainted with Helen, hoping the light knowledge might someday be of value in her musical career. But now, Madam was almostovercome. Her attendants were quieting her with smelling draughts froma tiny bottle. Jane glanced at the outer door hopefully. If only Mrs.Weatherbee would appear! What if this lady was erratic, and hersuddenly taken a spell? Jane remembered geniuses are apt to be verytemperamental.

  "I am so sorry," she said quietly to a maid. "I hope I have not upsetMadam?"

  "Oh, no, my dear. It is not the upset, but the joy, the hope. How shallI know! Can you not tell me what your friend looks like?" This fromMadam.

  Again the singer was on her feet confronting Jane. For a moment Janefixed her eyes on the beautiful face, then she exclaimed:

  "Oh, Madam! I think she looks like you."

  With a great swirling embrace Jane was actually swept into the singer'sarms. Strong emotion, always a characteristic of such temperaments, wasnow completely swaying the artist. Jane, abashed and disconcerted,sensed the depth of the emotion, and guessed the identity of HelkaPodonsky was very near to the heart of this handsome woman.

  At that moment the appearance of Mrs. Weatherbee at the door broughtwelcome relief from the confusion and excitement. Jane quickly madeknown Mrs. Weatherbee's connection with the jubilee concert, and Mme.Nalasky turned all her attention now to questioning the directress.

  After a very storm of inquiries concerning Helen and her whereaboutsbefore coming to Wellington had been heaped upon the directress, Madamfinally begged leave to go to the college at once.

  "But!" protested her secretary, "Madam! Your most important concertthis evening! It is a benefit, you remember, Madam! and they especiallywish you to sing."

  "Oh, Marie, you do not know, and I
cannot at present say how very muchthis means to me. This is my own grand benefit, and I, Nalasky, whohave given always gladly to others, now claim something for myself. Myunderstudy must take the concert. I could not close my eyes again,until I have seen this wonder child. Ah, my dear lady," to Mrs.Weatherbee, who was too surprised for utterance at the turn affairs hadtaken. "I feel this young girl, Miss Allen, has been an agent of kindProvidence. She has protected this child from a wild and treacherousworld," and again Madam took refuge in her pillows, sobbing and smilingalternately.

  Realizing that nothing could deter her, the attendants put themselvesto the task of preparing for a hasty departure of their distinguishedmistress, and when Jane and Mrs. Weatherbee took their places in theLake Shore train that afternoon, it was in a luxurious and exclusiveprivate compartment, reserved at the request of Mme. Nalasky, theircompanion on the journey.

  Immediately upon entraining, Madam was tucked into her couch by thefaithful Marie, who could scarcely restrain from open rebellion, thatMadam should so exhaust herself, to the danger of her marvellous voice.To these commands the singer reluctantly consented, although it wasclear she would have much preferred taking Mrs. Weatherbee and Jane.

  "Oh, Mrs. Weatherbee," breathed Jane, alone once more with herdirector. "Isn't it too strange for words!"

  "Like a fairy story, my dear, but stories follow some people and Ifancy they have a liking for you." She was in splendid humor and thevery best of spirits, in spite of her hard day spent at collectingtalent for the concert.

  "Whatever will Helen say?" Jane could not help wondering aloud.

  "We have a pleasant scene ahead of us," answered Mrs. Weatherbeesmilingly.

  "And the little paper--to think it was through that article this hasreally come about," further mused Jane.

  "Oh, no, my dear. You would have found this through one means if notanother. True, the _Bugle_ served--but you operated it." Mrs. Weatherbeeinsisted upon being complimentary.

  "And I feel, Mrs. Weatherbee," Jane ventured further, "if this allcomes out beautifully, we ought to forgive Marian. After all, she gaveout the news that did the--that worked the miracle."

  "Well, poor Marian is of the class bound to get into trouble, but Ishall be very glad indeed if we can find some extenuating circumstancefor her latest offence." She was good natured to the point ofindulgence.

  "But, don't you think, Mrs. Weatherbee, the very fact that this seemsto be providential makes a claim for Marian?" Jane was very cautiousnow. She did not mean to appear dictatorial to her superior.

  Mrs. Weatherbee smiled. "Leave it to Jane to find an excuse," shereplied, unmindful of having used a clap-trap phrase. "You do managebeautifully, my dear, to get girls out of trouble."

  "But, you see, I have been in trouble myself at times," explained Jane,"and I know how hard it is to extricate oneself. Marian is spiteful,and that leads her into mischief, but think of her disadvantages athome. Then just think of my wonderful daddy----"

  The school official smiled broadly. Yes, Jane had reason to be thankfulfor her inheritance.

  "Your father's scholarship has done more than it ever promised toaccomplish. I feel we have a beautiful scene to unfold as a prelude toour Golden Jubilee benefit," she replied.

  "Oh, I am so glad!" sighed Jane as she lay back to watch the sunsetcreep over the Catskills.

  What would happen when they reached Wellington? However would all thegirls understand the wonderful turn in events? It was too delicious tocontemplate.