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The next day was full of surprises for them both. They were entirely ignorant of conditions in and about the theatre. The big, dark house, with its seats all swathed in linen covers, the empty, barn-like stage, with chairs set about to indicate properties; the stage hands coming and going, the stage manager shouting directions--it was all new to them.
The members of the company were as businesslike as bank clerks. No hint of illusion, no sc.r.a.p of romance!
"Mercy! it's like a ghost house," said Bambi.
A deal table was set at one side, down stage, for the Jocelyns, with two scripts of the play. They sat down like frightened school children, bewildered as to what would be expected of them.
The actors sat in a row of chairs at one side. The stage manager made some explanations and remarks about rehearsals, and then the first act was called. It was slow and tedious work. Over and over again the scenes were tried. Some of the actors fumbled their lines as if they had never read English before. Now and then the manager appealed to the authors for the reading of a line, or an intonation, and Bambi always answered.
At the end of one scene the man who was to play the young musician came to them.
"I've been thinking over my part, Mrs. Jocelyn, and I think that if you could write in a scene right here, in act first, to let me explain to the old fiddler my reason for being in this situation----"
"Oh, no, you mustn't explain. The whole point of the first act is that you explain nothing."
"Yes, but it would play better," he began, in the patronizing tone always used to newcomers in the theatre.
"I can't help that. I cannot spoil the truth of a whole character, even if it does play better," said Bambi, smiling sweetly.
The actor took it up with the stage manager after rehearsal, and was referred to the authors.
"These new playwrights always have to learn at our expense," he said, importantly.
"Can't be helped. We have to use playwrights, however irritating they are," remarked the stage manager.
Day after day they a.s.sembled at the same hour and slowly built up the structure of the play. Many nights Jarvis and Bambi worked on new scenes, or the rearrangement of the old ones. The first act was twisted about many times before it "played" to the stage manager's satisfaction.
New lines had to be introduced, new business worked out every day. It was hard work for everybody except Bambi, and she declared it was fun.
No matter how trying the rehearsals, nor how hard she had to work, she enjoyed every minute of it. They soon discovered that Jarvis had no talent for rehearsing. In fact, the mechanics of the thing bored him.
When a new scene was demanded quickly, his mind refused to work. It was Bambi's quick wits that saved the day. After the first few days she was the only one to be consulted and appealed to by everybody.
"I can't see that you need me at all in this business. I'm no good at it."
"Yes, you are, too. You saw where that new scene in the third act belonged at once."
"Yes, after you wrote the scene."
"But this is why we need each other. I didn't see where the scene belonged at all. If we both could do the same thing, we wouldn't need to collaborate. Thank heaven, we don't have the author underfoot interfering all the time."
"I don't believe she would interfere."
"Heard anything from her, lately?"
"No, she is waiting for the production, I suppose."
"And then the deluge! I may lose you to that story-writing female yet!"
she teased him.
"Don't!" he protested, quickly.
"I won't," she retorted, meaningly.
In late March the date of the production was set. It gave Bambi unbelievable pleasure to read the announcements on the billboards, and to stand in front of the three-sheets in the foyer of the theatre.
She wrote Ardelia full directions in regard to packing the Professor's dress clothes; she told her the train they were to take; she worked out every detail, so that nothing might be left to the sieve-like memories of the princ.i.p.als on this foreign journey.
She ordered a new frock for herself, and succeeded in getting Jarvis measured for new dress clothes. Then she threw herself, heart and soul, into the last few days of work at the theatre, helping to polish and strengthen the play. The night of dress rehearsal came, and with it a new development for her consideration and management.
XXVII
Dress rehearsal was called at midnight, as two of the princ.i.p.als were playing in other theatres. There was an air of suspense and confusion on the stage, where the new sets were being put on, which threw Jarvis into a cold sweat of terror. It only added one degree to Bambi's mounting excitement. She and Jarvis made their way to the front of the house, where Mr. Frohman, the leader of the orchestra, and a few other people interested in the production were a.s.sembled.
"I never realized before how many people, how much work and money and brain go into the production of the simplest comedy for one night's amus.e.m.e.nt," she said to Mr. Frohman.
"And yet managers are always blamed because they don't take more chances on new playwrights," he smiled.
"Jarvis looks as if he were walking to the guillotine, doesn't he?"
"It is a strain, isn't it, Jocelyn? You get used to it after a few first-nights."
Jarvis nodded, wetting his dry lips with a nervous tongue.
The curtain went down and came up. The first act began. Bambi scarcely breathed. Jarvis could be heard all over the house. The first part of the act hitched along and had to be repeated; the stage manager came out and scolded, while Mr. Frohman called directions from the front. Bambi turned to Jarvis.
"It's going to be a failure," she said.
"Oh, don't say that!" he fairly groaned.
"Don't be discouraged!" said Mr. Frohman, noting their despairing looks.
"Dress rehearsals are usually the limit."
"But it can't go like this, and succeed," Bambi wailed.
"Don't you worry. It won't go like this."
The night wore on, miserably, for the authors. Everything had to be done over--lines were forgotten--everybody was in a nervous stew.
"The awful part of it is that we've done all we can do," moaned Bambi.
"If they ruin it, we can't prevent them."
"We'll make them rehea.r.s.e all day to-morrow," said Jarvis, fiercely.
"They were better than this two weeks ago."
The end of the agony finally came. The stage manager a.s.sembled the weary company and gave them a few select and sarcastic remarks as to their single and collective failure. Mr. Frohman added a few words, and ordered them all to dismiss the play from their minds until the morrow night. Bambi tried to say a word of encouragement and thanks to them, but in the midst of it she broke down and wept.
"Take her home and keep her in bed to-morrow, Jocelyn," Mr. Frohman said.
Jarvis hurried her into a cab, and she sobbed softly all the way home.
He made no effort to touch her or comfort her; he was in torment himself. At the club he ordered eggnog and sandwiches sent to her room, whither he followed her, helpless to cope with her tears.