The Adventures of Sally

rday morning and drove to the HotelStatler. Having ascertained that Gerald was stopping in the hotel andh

ain. But the real cause of her depression was the fact that there hadbeen a lack of enthusiasm in Gerald's greeting over the telephone justnow.

ning. It would, no doubt, be a very differentGerald who would presently bound into the dining-roo

ich was visible through the open door of the dining-room,came in and stood peering about as though in search of someone. Themomentary sight she had had of

dsupposed him to be a permanent resident of New York. But, of course,

ad stood inthe doorway looking in every direction except the ri

nervous--one might almosthave said embarrasse

n, and no doubt he waswondering how to begin. "What are you doing here? I thought you were inEurope.""I got back a week

ard? They've closed all the theatresbecause of this infernal Spanish influenza. Nothing has been playingthis week. You must have seen it in the papers.""I haven't had time to read the paper

look at it. Shouldn't wonder if he wants me toput money into it and so on.""I thought he had all the money in the world.""Yes, he has a lot, but these fellows lik

paper-knife...""How do you mean, a fuss about a paper-knife?""One of the props, you know. It got mislaid. I'm certain it wasn't my

ames the first personshe sees... This paper-knife.

irst act, and hasn't much to say, except 'Did you ring, madam?' andthings like that. But it's the way she says 'em! Sally, that girl's agenius! The greatest character actress in a dozen years! You mark mywords, in a darned little while you'll see her name

itt told me.""Well...""Well?""Well

've got quite modest,Fill."He had certainly c

had punctured him and l

ed, to the influence of MissWinch, Sally felt

ce you sometime

suppose he is breakfasting in his room. I'd better goup.""You are busy, aren't you. Little marvel! It's lucky they've got you tolook after them."Fi

utes later

aid Sally, as he reached

arance fulfilled the promise of his voice overthe telephone.

n't hurt themwhy should it hurt them to go to theatres? Besides, it's all infernalnonsense about this thing. I don't believe there is such a thing asSpanish influenza. People get colds in their heads and think they'redying. It's all a fake scare.""I don't think it's t

chance! Just chucked away."Sally was listening with a growing feeling of desolation. She tried tobe fair, to remember that he had had a terrible disappointment and wasunder a great strain. And yet... it was unfortunate that self-pity was athing she particularly disliked in a man. Her vanity, too, was hurt. Itwas

better. I wrote Elsa in a few lines the other day,and the Hobson woman went right up in the air. You don't know what astar is till you've seen one of these promoted clothes-props from theFollies trying to be one. It took me an ho

t seemed to put you so out of touchwith people when you got back. She analysed her sensations, and arrivedat the conclusion that what she was resenting was the fact that Geraldwas trying to get the advantages of two attitudes simultaneously. A manin trouble may either be the captain of his soul and superior to pity,or he may b

ying along all the time, so for goodness' sake don't go letting itout t

ed to me...""Don't be silly." Gerald too

ught had come to her,altering her entire outlook. She had come off the train tired andgritty, and what seemed the general out-of-jointness of the world wasentirely due, she decided, to the fact that she had not had a bath an

a brute, but I do sympathize,really.""I

so much. There! Now we can consider mylecture on foreign travel finished, and you can go on telling me yourtroubles."Gerald accepted the invitation. He spoke at considerable length, thoughwith little variety. It appeared definitely established in his mind t

d it. It's the only way of getting through the day. Areyou coming along?""I'll come directly I've unpacked and t

ouse, and, as her eyes grew accustomed to the gloom,was able to see Gerald sitting in the front row beside a man with a baldhead fringed with orange hair whom she took correctly to be Mr. Bunbury,the producer. Dotted about the house

?""Tiddly-omty-om," was the bowl

'find me in the library.' Andexit," said th

ly became aware of the a

d up hiswalking-stick, which was leaning against the ne

sake!" said

bowler hat, interested, pau

skip them in thatsloppy fashion.""You don't want me to

thing?" queried the bowler h

t at all?"This seemed to strike the erring Teddy, if not as reasonable, at anyrate as one way of looking at it

ing and the uncertainty, the loafing about in strangehotels in a strange city, the dreary rehearsing of lines which had beenpolished to the last syllable more t

ble, sat down in a chair near the footlights. Amoment later, in answer to the ring, a

en. She was a square, wholesome, good-humoured looking girl with aserious face, the gravity of which was contradicted by the faint smilethat seemed to lurk about the corner of her mouth. She was certainly notpretty, and Sally

aid Miss Win

y seemed pro

rain from chewing gumduring rehearsal?""That's r

ancée revolved the criticized refreshment a

ess," she annou

s?""Character stuff," explained Miss

ow."Mr. Bunbury ruffled his orange hair in an ov

een a maid?" he as

imagine for a moment that in a house such as this is supposed to be theparlour-maid would be allowed

then something really funny for me, and so on. We can work it up into abig comic scene. Five or six minutes, all laughs."This ingenious suggestion had the effect of depriving the producermomentarily of speech,

with the exception of a musical voice. Her figure wasperfect, her face beautiful, and he

ust one moment!"Mr. Bunbur

, if you want to make a littleeasy money, you go and bet somebody ten seeds that I'm going tointerrupt it again every time there's any talk of writing up any darnedpart in the show except mine. Wr

can it, Reggie!" sai

f your brutalcave-men. He subsided into the recesses o

.. well, pardon me while Ichoke with laughter! If so much as a syllable is written into anybody'spart, I walk stra

re we rehearsing, or is

, never mind," observed Miss Winch, equably. "It was only a randomthought. Working for the good of the sh

tantly allowed hers

act which was abundantly obvious toall who had had the privilege of listening to her. "Any raw work, andout

ech now?" inquired Miss W

morning.""Did you ring, madam?" said Miss Winch to Elsa, who

hed lustre on any part which involved the minimum of wordsand the maximum of clothes: but in the pivotal role of a serious play,her very physical attributes only served to emphasize and point herhopeless incapacity. Sall

et again. Sally could not help wondering whether things were goingparticula

erside of the stage. The desk was an important feature of the play, forit symbolized the absorption in business which, exhibited by herhusband, was ra

th it. You did it yesterday, andto-day you've forgotten it again.""My God!" cried Miss Hobson, wounded to the quick. "If this don't beateverything! How the heck can I toy negligently with a paper-knife whenthere's no paper-knife for me to toy negligently with?""The paper-knife is on the

a stout and shrinking figure, in whose hand was ascript of the play and on whose face, lit u

h in the sunshine of prosperity had atendency to grow a trifle lush; and such of the minor ills of life ashad afflicted him during the past three years, had, she considered, beenwholesome and educative and a matter not for concern but forcongratulation. Unmoved, she had watched him through that lean periodlunch

at the breakfast-table

ough well aware that he would have to reveal thetruth sooner or later. She realized ho

hisviews. He was showing oratorical gifts of no mean order. The paper-knifeseemed to inspire him. Gradually, Sally began to get the feeling thatthis harmless, necessary stage-property was the source from which sprangmost, if not all, of the trouble in the world. It had disappearedbefore. Now it had disappeared again. Could Mr. Bunbury g

bury," bleated the unhap

have done.""I assure you I did.""And it walked away, I suppose," said Miss Hobson wit

clear vo

away," said the

od besideFillmore, chewing placidly. It took more than r

awher."Sensation in court. The prisoner, who seemed to feel his positi

g now thathe had made such a fuss. Miss Hobson thus assailed by an underling, spunround and dropped the lip-stick, which was ne

hearsal yesterday," drawled GladysWinch, addressing the world in general, "and threw it neglig

, and, though as a rule he avoidedanything in the nature of a clash with the temperamental star, thismat

e cried, stung by the way fate was maltreating him,"I have never experienced anything like this before. I have beenproducing plays all my life, and this is the

ald Foster, bounding from his seat and forthe first time taking a share in the debate. "Are we going to spend thewhole day arguing about ca

u have anything to say to me, lower your voice.""He can't," observe

m her theme by reminiscences ofNazimova.

at the back and spoke when he wasspoken to. In the shows I've been in..."Sally was tingling all over. This reminded her of the dog-fight on theRoville sands. She wanted to be in

She was nowstanding in the lighted space by the orchestra-pit, and her presenceattracted the roving attention of Miss Hobson, who,

found herself an object of universal scrutiny and wishe

" was the best method of iden

east half of those present seemed surprised. To them, till now,Fillmore had been a nameless thing, answering to the shout of "Hi!"Miss Hobson received the info

tie!" urged

erecommended his fading away, and he did so--into his collar. He seemedt

red that Sally's presencehad in some mysterious

the assistant stage manager being allowed to fillthe theatre with his sisters and his cousins

ke a blue panther, she strode off. A door banged, and the soundof it seemed to

p from her magazine. Thebattle, raging all ro

he steps which had been propped against the

r. Bunbury and Gerald werepacing up and down the central a

w Gladys Winc

the placid lodestar of

roved to have deep grey eyes andfreck

," she said. "They wouldhave torn him in pieces

go and have a talk with Fillmore. He looksas though he wa

n't loaded. A wild,startled expression had settled

illmore, "I will be frank with you. Can you lend me tendollars?""I don't see how you make that out an answer to my question, but hereyou are.""Thanks." Fillmore pocketed the bill. "I'll let you have it back nextweek. I want to take Miss Winch out to lunch.""If that's

fall in love with her, Fill?""Do you

ic.""Yes.""So kind.""Yes.""And she's got brains enough for two, which is the exact quantitythe girl who marries

xplaining how you got this way, instead of takingup my valuable time telling me what you mean to do in the future. You'velost all your mone

the story of his life, and how he had made ahash of everything. Well, that took all you had, I suppose?""Not quite. I had a few thousand left, and I went into a deal thatreally did look cast-iron.""And that went wrong!""It wasn't my fault," said Fillmore querulously. "It was just mypoisonous luck. A man I knew got me to join a syndicate which had boughtup a lot of whisky. The idea was to ship

h he had once compared, notwithout some reason, to that of a governess who had afflicted theirmutual childhood. "Never mind, you poor ill-used martyr. Things are sureto come right. We shal

the rise andwatch things fall and then rush out and buy for the fall and watch 'emrise.' Fill... I'll tell you what I'll do. They all say it's the firstbit of money that counts in building a vast fortu

""You'd better rob a bank. Any policeman will direct you to a goodbank.""I'll tell you why I want twenty

to let a showlike this close. I believe in it, Sally. It's a darn good play. WithElsa Doland in the big part, it couldn't fail."Sally started. Her money was too recent for her to have grown fullyaccustomed to it, and she had never realized that she was in a positionto

one would need a bit inhand. You have to face

r safely through most of life's rapids, seemedoddly dormant. Sub-consciously she was aware that on past performancesFillmore was decidedly n

lly hadproposed not to invest her legacy, it was a gold-mine; what she had hadin view, as a matter of fact, had been one of those little fancy shopswhich are called Ye Blue Bird or Ye Corner Shoppe, or something lik

ations, came into the glow of thefootlights, and she was able to see Gerald's face: and at the same ti

ghtly before her mental eye, flickered and melted out. The wholeissue became clear and simple. Gerald was miserable and she had it inher

ht," she s

convulsion. He knew Sally of old ascautious and clear-headed, by no means to be stampeded by a brot

and held his breath. After all h

ne vastwhoop. It rang through the empty theatre like the last trump, bea

the look he cast at Fillmore, and a minute earlier it would have reducedthat financial magnate to apologetic pulp. But Fillmore was not to beinti