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But her rage was only simulated, and she didn't really think what she said.
She herself wore a most elaborate embroidered dress of rich pink silk.
It was trimmed, too, with pearl bead fringe, and to Dolly's simple taste it was too fussy. But Dotty admired it, and Bernice thought it wonderful.
"It IS a good thing," said Alicia, carelessly. "It's imported. I've never had it on before."
Bernice had a lovely dress of white tulle, with white satin ribbons;--lovely, that is, for evening, but too dressy for daytime.
However, as the winter dusk fell early, the lights were on, and it seemed almost like evening.
CHAPTER VIII
THE CALLER
The four girls, in the reception room, waited the coming of their guest. To their surprise, Mr. Forbes came in, and looked them over with a chuckle.
"Well, you ARE ready for the fray, aren't you?" he said, taking in their dressy finery and their important, self-conscious airs.
"Yes, Uncle Jeff," responded Alicia; "will you stay and see our young man?"
For some unexplained reason, Uncle Jeff laughed heartily. But he checked his merriment, and said, "No, Alicia, I fear I might intrude; I know you want to flirt with this young actor, and I'd be a spoilsport.
But let me warn you to be very gentle with him. You see, he may be so overcome by this galaxy of youth and beauty that he'll be embarra.s.sed and run away!"
"Nonsense, uncle," said Bernice, "actors are not easily embarra.s.sed.
More likely we girls will be struck dumb at his splendour and importance."
"Well, tell me all about it afterward," and still chuckling, Mr. Forbes went off.
"What ails Uncle?" said Alicia, pettishly. "Anybody'd think he had a joke on us."
"No," Dotty rejoined, "only he's sort of old, you know, and he doesn't see the fun in this, as we do."
"Well, I wish the fun would hurry up! It's after four now."
"Such people are never on time," said Alicia, with a great air of experience. "He's sure to be late. Oh, there's the bell now!"
The girls, with hearts beating high, grouped themselves in a picturesque pose, which they had practised beforehand, and breathlessly watched the doorway.
Through it came, in a moment, a jolly-faced man, with an informal manner and pleasant smile.
"Hullo, girlies," he said, "what's up? Expecting a party? Well, I won't keep you a minute. Where's Mr. Forbes?"
"Why, you're the party, Mr. Coriell," said Alicia, stepping forward to greet him, and looking very coquettish as she smiled up into his face.
"Oh, am I! all right, have it your own way, kiddies. But I can't give you more than ten minutes of my valuable time. What do you want?
Autographs? Or tickets for a box? Speak up, now."
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Bernice, for Alicia was speechless with disappointment at this prosaic att.i.tude on the part of the visitor. "We just want to--to talk to you."
"You see," said Dolly, frankly, "we thought you'd be--different."
"Oh, of course you did! They always do! You wanted to see the Lascar, not plain James Brown!"
"What!" cried Alicia, hope rising in her breast that this was not the great actor after all, "aren't you Bayne Coriell?"
"Sure! That's my stage name, but in private life I'm James Brown, at your service."
"You don't even look like the Lascar!" wailed Dotty, dismayed at the turn things had taken.
"Of course, I don't, little one. Actors on and off, are two different persons. Oh, I begin to see through this performance. Your uncle didn't tell you anything about me! Eh?"
"No, sir," said Dolly, as the others were silent. "We saw you in your play, and we admired your work so much, that we--we--"
"Oh, the matinee idol business! Well, well! I didn't expect that. Why, kiddies, outside the theatre, I'm just a plain United States citizen. I have a daughter about the age of you girls. My Muriel is fourteen, nearly fifteen, but she's taller than any of you. Your uncle is a great friend of mine. He was my father's chum, and he has been more than kind to me all my life. I supposed he knew all about the letter from Miss Alicia, and ran around here expecting to see you and him both."
"That's why he chuckled at us!" and Dolly's eyes twinkled at the joke.
Somehow, she seemed more at ease with the actor than the other girls.
"You see, Mr. Brown, we thought you'd be more like you are on the stage. Of course we didn't expect you'd be dressed like the Lascar, or--or--made up,--isn't that what you call it? but we thought you'd be stagy and actory--"
James Brown laughed. "Everybody thinks that, or something like it," he said. "Few people realise that an actor's profession is MERELY a profession,--a business; and that we discard it out of business hours."
"But don't you get lots of notes from--from your audiences?" asked Dotty.
"Indeed I do. My wife looks after 'em, and most of 'em go into the trash basket. But of course a note from Jefferson Forbes' home was welcome, and I was glad to call on his nieces. Are you all his nieces?"
"No," said Alicia, who had recovered her poise, and she introduced the other girls by name. "I wrote the note, because I thought you were--"
"Because you thought I was a gay young sport," laughed James Brown; "well, I'm sorry, for your sake, that I'm merely an uninteresting, middle-aged man, but, I doubt if your uncle would have let you send that note, if I had been a stranger to him. Take my advice, girls, for I know what I'm talking about, never write to an actor with whom you are not acquainted. It can never lead to any good result and might lead to great harm."
"Are they all bad?" asked Dolly, innocently.
"No, indeed, far from it. But many of them are thoughtless; and, too, if a girl so far forgets the conventions as to write to a stranger, an actor often thinks he is justified in meeting her half way. And nice girls don't write to men they don't know. The fact that a man is an actor, is no more reason to treat him informally than if he were a broker or a merchant. It is the glamour of the stage that blinds you to the proprieties. That's only natural, I know, and that's why I'm presuming to give you this little talk for your own good. If ever you feel moved to make advances to a matinee idol,--don't do it!"
Alicia looked decidedly chagrined and a little angry, but Mr. Brown proceeded to talk of other matters, and though it was plain to be seen he meant the advice he had given them, all unpleasant effect was forgotten as he began to tell them some funny anecdotes.
And then tea was brought in, and they all grouped round the teatable, still listening to his entertaining chat.
The actor was a good-looking man, but far from being as handsome as he appeared on the stage. His fascination and charm were evidently as much put on as his swarthy complexion and long black hair, which so became him as an East Indian. Really, his hair was ash-coloured, and he was rather bald.
"I expect to go on the stage," observed Dolly, as they ate the cakes and bon-bons that accompanied the elaborate tea service.
"You do!" exclaimed the guest. "Why?"
"Because I feel I have talent for it. Not so much as an actress, perhaps, but as a singer. What shall I do first, Mr. Brown, to prepare for the light opera stage?"