Bambi Part 47

"I'll take the early morning train to-morrow."

"I reckon I'll fry up some chicken an' bake some cakes, so yo' can tote it right along wid yo'."

"Now, look here, Ardelia. I'm not going to pack any basket along on the train to New York. Jarvis can buy his fried chicken there."

"He say dey ain't no cookin' lak' dere is in dis town."

"Well, it will have to do for a little longer. I'll have my bag and plenty to carry."

"Yo' ain't got no nat'chal feelin' fo' dat boy," Ardelia scolded her.

When the Professor heard the news he evinced a mild surprise.

"Have you any money for this trip? I'm a trifle short, now. The bank notified me yesterday that I was overdrawn."

"Professor, not again? What is the use of being a mathematician if you are always overdrawn?"

"The trouble is I forget to look at my balance. I just continue to draw until I am notified. You will see Jarvis, of course?"

"Yes."

"You say you have business to attend to in the city?"

"Yes."

"About the secret?"

"Yes."

"Is the moment of disclosure approaching?"

She nodded.

"Well, I wish you the best of luck, my dear."

"Thanks, Herr Professor."

She took the early train in high good humour the next morning, clad in her most fetching frock.

"Even a stony-hearted manager could not be impervious to this hat," was her parting comment to her gla.s.s.

She was very undecided as to whether she would go straight to Jarvis's lodgings and surprise him, or wait until after the interview with Frohman. She finally decided that she could not wait until four o'clock, but that she would give Jarvis no hint of the coming momentous appointment. As she came into the city, she noted the bright, crisp winter day with pleasure--very different from that spring day when she and Jarvis had entered the gates together. But to-day was to-day and she was glad of it.

She took a taxi, with that sense of affluence which attacks one like a germ on entering the City of Spenders. The driver looked at her again as she gave the address. The trim, smart little figure did not look much like the neighbourhood she was headed for. Probably one of these settlement workers, he decided.

At first Bambi did not notice where she was going, so happy was she to be back in this gay city.

"I know you're a Painted Lady, but you're so pretty!" she smiled, as the streets ran by. Downtown and still downtown the taxi sped, past the Washington Square district, which they had explored together, shooting off at a tangent into the kind of neighbourhood where Bambi had fallen sick at the sights and the filth. They drew up before an old-fashioned house, with dirty steps and windows and curtains. It looked like a better-cla.s.s citizen on the down grade, beside the neighbouring houses, which were frankly low-cla.s.s. The driver opened the door and Bambi stared up at the place.

"Why, this can't be it!" she exclaimed.

"This is the number you gave me."

"Wait," she said. She ran up the rickety steps, her heart sick with fear. She rang and waited and rang. Finally, a dirty head appeared out of an upstairs window.

"What d'yer want?" a voice demanded.

"Does Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn live here?"

"Three flights up-back," and the window slammed.

"Wait for me, driver," she called. She began to climb the dirty stairs, tears in her eyes.

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" she said, over and over again.

She knocked at the third-floor back, with no response; so she opened the door and entered. One dark area window, a bed, a chair, a dresser, an improvised table with piles of ma.n.u.script. It was cleaner than the awful entrance suggested. But, oh, it was pitiful! Such a place for a dreamer!

Bambi leaned her head on the dresser and sobbed. That he had been reduced to this, that he had never told them, that he had refused the Professor's money and chosen poverty! It nearly killed her, while it thrilled her with a pride unspeakable. If he had the strength for such a fight, nothing could conquer him. She started at a step outside, thinking that it might be he.

Suddenly she realized that he might not want even her to see this; that he might not want her to know of this drab tent where he crawled for sleep off the field of battle. She went to the narrow bed and laid her hand gently where his cheek would rest.

"Jarvis, my dear!" she whispered.

Then she went down the rickety stairs, out to the waiting cab. She was sick, heart and body, at the revelation of what his struggle meant. All the mother in her cried out at the physical distress of such surroundings to a nature sensitive to environment.

He could have come back to the sunny, airy rooms he had made his, at home; but he had chosen to stay and win. So many things she had not understood about him were made clear now, and she wondered if Richard Strong had found him there. No wonder Jarvis had repulsed him, taken unawares, and at such a disadvantage!

"Oh, why didn't you let me know and help?" she repeated. She had the man take her round and round the Park, where it was quiet. She must get herself in hand. She felt that at the slightest excuse she would burst into hysterics! More than ever, now, must she be mistress of herself for the coming interview. She must fight to catch the big manager's attention, and win her way with him. She drew her furs about her, closed her eyes, and tried to shut out the sight of that sordid, wretched room, where handsome big Jarvis was paying the toll to success--toll of blood and brain and nerves, paid by every man or woman who mounts to the top!

She saw him climbing wearily those dirty stairs, coming into the cell.

Over and over she saw it, like a moving-picture film repeated indefinitely.

At quarter before three she ordered the driver to the Empire Theatre.

This time his face cleared. Actress, of course. Probably went to the slums to look up a drunken husband. He drew up at the theatre, demanded a queen's ransom for her release, and stood at attention. She was too nervous to notice the amount, and paid it absently, dismissed him, and hurried to the elevator.

She was first shown into the general-domo's office, where she was catechised as to her name and her business. She waited fifteen minutes while her name was pa.s.sed down the line. Word came back that Mr. Frohman was engaged. Would she please wait?

"I'll wait, but my appointment was at three," she said.

The major-domo looked at her as if such _lese majeste_ deserved hanging.

In fifteen minutes more she was conducted into an anteroom, where she was turned over to a secretary. Her business was explained to him. In due course of time word came out that Mr. Frohman would be through in ten minutes. She was moved, then, to a tiny room next the sacred door leading into the inner mystery. Twenty minutes pa.s.sed, then a youth appeared.

"Mr. Frohman will receive you now," he announced in solemn tones.

Bambi refrained from an impulse to say, "Thank you, St. Peter," and followed into the private office. For a second she was petrified with fear, then with the courage of the terror-stricken she marched down the long room to the desk where Mr. Frohman sat looking at her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," said he.

Bambi fixed her shining eyes upon him and smiled confidently.