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+Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Blue-grass and Broadway
+
+Author: Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2009 [EBook #29391]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-GRASS AND BROADWAY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Carla Foust, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note
+
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Printer
+errors have been changed and are listed at the end. All other
+inconsistencies are as in the original.
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+ [Illustration: "We are all going to stand by, little girl"]
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+ BY
+
+ MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS
+
+ Author of "THE MELTING OF MOLLY," "THE GOLDEN BIRD,"
+ "THE TINDER BOX," etc.
+
+ NEW YORK
+
+ THE CENTURY CO.
+
+ 1919
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright, 1919, by
+
+ THE CENTURY CO.
+
+ Copyright, 1918, by
+
+ INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (HARPER'S BAZAR)
+
+ _Published, April, 1919_
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+The need of a large sum of money in a great hurry is the root of many
+noble ambitions, in whose branches roost strange companies of birds,
+pecking away for dollars that grow--or do not--on bushes. And it was in
+such a quest that Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, lit upon
+a limb of life beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford of Broadway, New York. Their
+joint endeavors made a great adventure.
+
+"There's nothing to it, Pop; either pony girls will have to grow four
+legs to cut new capers, somebody will have to write a play entitled
+'When Courtship Was in Flower,' requiring flowered skirts ten yards wide
+with a punch in each furbelow, or we go out of the theatrical business,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, as he shuffled a faint, violet-tinted letter out of
+a pile of advertising posters emblazoned with dancing girls and men,
+several personal bills, two from a theatrical storage house and one from
+an electrical expert, leaned back in his chair, and prepared to open the
+violet communication. "We dropped twenty thousand cool on 'Miss Cut-up,'
+and those sixteen pairs of legs cost us fifteen hundred a week. We might
+be in danger of starving right here on Broadway, if we hadn't picked a
+sure-fire hit in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.'"
+
+"Ain't it the truth," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, as he glanced up from
+his typewriter with a twinkle in his big black eyes that were like gems
+in a round, very sedate, even sad, Hebrew face. "Bare legs and 'cut-ups'
+is already old now, Mr. Vandeford. It is that we must have now a play
+with a punch."
+
+"The law won't let us take anything more off the chorus, so we'll have
+to swing back and put a lot on. Costumes that cost a million will be the
+next drag, mark me, Pop," Mr. Godfrey Vandeford declaimed with a gloomy
+brow, as he still further delayed exploring the violet missive.
+
+"A hundred thousand it will take for costuming 'The Rosie Posie Girl,'"
+agreed Pop dolefully, from above the letter he was slowly pecking out of
+the machine.
+
+"For furnishing chiffon belts, you mean, not costumes, if we go by
+Corbett's clothes ideas," growled the pessimistic, prospective producer
+of the possible next season's hit in the girl-show line.
+
+"You have it right," answered Pop, sympathetically.
+
+"If I hadn't promised to let old Denny in on my Violet Hawtry show for
+the fall I'd be tempted to throw back everything, even 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl' and go gunning for potatoes or onions up on a Connecticut farm;
+but the show bug has bit Denny hard and I'll have to be the one to
+shear him and not leave it to any of the others. I'll be more merciful
+to his millions; but asking him to put up half of a cool hundred and
+fifty thousand is a bit raw. Wish I had a nice little glad play with an
+under twenty cast for him to cut his teeth on instead of the 'Rosie
+Posie.'"
+
+"It's six plays on the shelf now for reading," reminded Mr. Meyers,
+eagerly, for to him fell the task of weeding all plays sent into the
+office of Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer, and his optimistic
+soul suffered when he discovered a gem and found himself unable to get
+Mr. Vandeford to read so much as the first act unless he caught him in
+just such a mood as the one in which he now labored. "Now, I want that
+you take just a peep, Mr. Vandeford, at that new Hinkle comedy for which
+I have written already five times to delay--"
+
+"Can't do it now, Pop! Don't you see that I have got to read this purple
+letter and that is all the business I can attend to for this morning?"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, as he pushed a slim paper cutter along the top
+edge of the purple missive.
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, it is that I have--"
+
+"Express. Sign here!" was the interruption that put an end to Mr.
+Meyers's immediate supplication. The parcel that he deposited upon his
+chief's desk with forceful meekness was a play manuscript.
+
+"Great guns, Pops; I'm seeing purple!" exclaimed Mr. Vandeford, as he
+let the violet letter fall upon the violet wrappings in which the
+express intrusion was incased. "Exact match! This looks like some sort
+of a hunch. Open it, Pops, and run through the layout while I tackle the
+violet letter and see if anything happens." And with great interest both
+grown men plunged into the excitement of the chase of the hunch.
+
+Mr. Vandeford's letter contained the following, delivered in bold words
+and script:
+
+ HIGHCLIFF.
+
+ _My dear Van:_
+
+ This is to remind you that it is now July fifth, and my contract
+ sets September twenty-third as the last date for my opening on
+ Broadway in a new play under your management. "The Rosie Posie
+ Girl" will be a huge undertaking and worthy of my every effort, but
+ I do not feel that you are up to producing it properly. I regret
+ your losses in "Miss Cut-up," but I did my best with a vehicle that
+ was not worthy of my ability. The success of "Dear Geraldine" was
+ entirely due to the comedy bits I wrote in to suit myself, and I
+ had to be costumer and producer and the whole show. In justice to
+ myself I feel that I ought to pass under the management of a more
+ forceful person than yourself. And anyway I don't think you would
+ be able to get a theater to open on Broadway in September. Remember
+ that over a hundred good shows died on the road waiting to get into
+ Broadway last winter, and _I_ won't play anywhere else. Now Weiner
+ wants to buy "The Rosie Posie Girl" from you and open his New
+ Carnival Theatre with me in it on October first. You must sell it
+ to him. He will make you a good offer. You can't use it without me,
+ and I want him to produce it. Please see him immediately. You know
+ that you owe your reputation as a producer to me, and don't be
+ selfish. I'll expect you up on the evening train to talk over the
+ final arrangements. I'll meet you in the runabout and we can go
+ out to the Beach Inn for dinner. Bring me some brandied marrons, a
+ large bottle of rose oil and a stick of lip rouge from Celeste's.
+
+ Hurriedly,
+
+ VIOLET.
+
+ July fifth.
+
+ P. S. Of course you are to go on loving me just as usual. I
+ couldn't do without that. How much money have I in the
+ Knickerbocker Trust?
+
+After Godfrey Vandeford had read the last violent purple line on violet,
+he dropped the letter on his desk and looked out of his office window
+with serious eyes that gazed without seeing, down the long canyon of
+Broadway, up and down which rushed traffic composed of green cars shaped
+like torpedoes, honking, darting motors, skulking trucks and jostling,
+tangled people. Flamboyant signs, waving flags, and gilt-lettered window
+panes made a Persian glow in a belt space up from the seething sidewalks
+to the sky line, and above it all the roar and din rose to high heaven.
+But Godfrey Vandeford was blind to it all and deaf, as he sat and
+brooded above the furious landscape. His blue eyes, set deep back under
+their black, gray-splashed brows, failed to take in the lurid spectacle,
+and his narrow, lean face was flushed under the bronze it had acquired
+for keeps from the suns of many climes. His lean, powerful body seemed
+fairly crouched in thought. Once he shifted one leg across the other,
+and as he settled back in his chair he tossed the violet letter over to
+Mr. Meyers without seeming to know that he did so. Then he plunged back
+into his absorption without seeing his henchman read rapidly through the
+missive, look at him once with a gem-like keenness, and again begin to
+read the purple-covered manuscript.
+
+"And we picked her out of a vaudeville gutter over beyond Weehawken just
+five years ago, Pop," Mr. Vandeford finally interrupted the flip of the
+manuscript pages to say, with a deep musing in his flexible, sympathetic
+voice.
+
+"You taught her to eat with the knife and the fork," growled Mr. Meyers
+from behind his violet barricade as he ripped over another page.
+"Mick!"
+
+"Oh, not as bad as that, Pop," laughed Mr. Vandeford, with a glance of
+affection at the young Hebrew delving in the corner for a jewel for him.
+"She's just--oh, well, they are all children--and have to be spanked.
+She wants to sell me out to Weiner after I've spent five nice, good
+years in building her into a little twinkle star, but I don't think it
+will be good for her to let her do it. I'll have to use the slipper on
+her, I'm afraid. I believe in hunches and I believe I'll just use that
+purple manuscript you're chewing to let her set her teeth in. She needs
+one good failure to tone her up. What's the name of the effusion in
+ribbons?"
+
+"The Renunciation of Rosalind," murmured Mr. Meyers, as he bent once
+more to the pages which he had been reading with eagerness when
+interrupted by his chief.
+
+"We could call it 'The Purple Slipper.' About what will the cast
+figure?"
+
+"Three thousand per week if you use Gerald Height at five hundred as per
+contract with him. But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I would say for a play this
+is--"
+
+"That's not much money to waste on a purple hunch. A nice, judicious,
+little second-hand staging out of the warehouse and a few weeks' road
+try-out for the failure will cost about ten thousand. I'll let Denny
+have five thousand worth of fun mussing around with it to cut his eye
+teeth, and then we'll clap Violet into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' weeping
+with gratitude to have her face saved after being slapped first. Get the
+parts out to-morrow and you and Chambers begin to cast it. I'll see
+actors here from three to five Friday. I'll open it September tenth. Now
+I've got to go and chase those confounded marrons. The last I took were
+put up in maraschino and were not welcomed. I'll be in the office--"
+
+"And about the author, Mr. Vandeford, and the contracts?" questioned Mr.
+Meyers, with both dismay and energy in his voice.
+
+"Oh, I forgot about the author. She won't amount to much. A woman, I
+judge, from the ribbons. Offer the usual five, rising to seven and a
+half royalties, and explain carefully that you mean five per cent. on
+the box office receipts under five thousand, and seven and a half on all
+over that. Also go into the moving picture rights and second companies
+with your usual honesty, but offer her only a two hundred and fifty
+advance to cover a two years' option. She won't know that it ought to be
+five hundred for six months, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her.
+Besides, it will all be over for her and her play before October."
+
+"She says in the letter which was pinned to the first page of the play,
+that the article about you in the 'Times Magazine' made her know that
+you were the one producer to whom she could trust her play," said Mr.
+Meyers, reading from a neat little cream-white note in his hand.
+
+"Sweet child!" murmured Mr. Vandeford, as he took up his hat and stick.
+"Don't encourage her in any way in your letter, Pop. We don't want her
+rushing to the scene of action when we butcher her child. Pay the two
+thousand to Hilliard for the option on 'The Rosie Posie Girl' until
+January first, and tell him I am going to produce it in November. 'Phone
+me at Highcliff to-morrow if you want me. I'll be clearing the deck for
+the--spanking."
+
+"I wish you good luck," said Mr. Meyers feelingly.
+
+"What do you judge that play is about from reading the first act, and
+what is the author's name? I might have to produce a little concrete
+information in the fracas," the eminent producer paused to inquire just
+as he was closing the door.
+
+"It is written by a Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, and it
+has in plenty of ruffles and romance that is in a past time of a
+Colonial Governor and his wife alone at home with him in Washington."
+
+"That sounds about right for the weapon of castigation for Violet
+Hawtry, _née_ Murphy. I have always believed in hunches, and that
+accord in color was meant to mean something. Better send me a copy
+special in the morning. If Mr. Farraday calls me before I get him tell
+him the Astor at one to-day. What did I say? Marrons, lip stick, and--"
+
+"Rose oil," prompted Mr. Meyers, with just the trace of a sneer in his
+voice.
+
+"Right O! Rose oil it is. By!" And the door closed on Mr. Vandeford's
+graceful figure in its gray London tweeds.
+
+Thus a great adventure was undertaken in all levity. And with his
+chief's complete departure a change came into the mien of Mr. Adolph
+Meyers. He told the stenographer in the outer office to engage two girls
+to copy a play that afternoon and evening, to keep him from being
+interrupted until six, and to muffle the telephone unless in cases of
+emergency. Then he seated himself in Mr. Vandeford's deep chair, put his
+feet on the desk, lit a fat, black cigar and plunged into "The Purple
+Slipper," _née_ "The Renunciation of Rosalind." For two hours he read
+with the deepest absorption, only pausing to make an occasional note on
+a pad at his elbow. Then after he had laid down the manuscript with its
+purple wrappings and ribbons, he sat for a half hour in a trance, out of
+which he came to seat himself at the typewriter to indite a portentous
+letter, which he put in an envelope, sealed and directed to:
+
+ MISS PATRICIA ADAIR,
+
+ Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+The contents were:
+
+ _My dear Madam:_
+
+ I have carefully read your play entitled "The Renunciation of
+ Rosalind," and have decided to make you the following offer for the
+ production rights. I will give you two hundred and fifty dollars
+ for all rights of production, including moving picture rights and
+ supplementary road companies to extend over a period of two years
+ from the date of signing the contract, and will agree to pay you in
+ addition five per cent. of all box receipts up to five thousand per
+ week and seven and a half on all exceeding that sum. If you agree
+ to this proposition, I will send you a formal contract covering all
+ points in legal terms. Please let me know at your earliest
+ convenience your decision about the matter, as I now intend to
+ produce it in September with Violet Hawtry in the title rôle.
+
+ Believe me, my dear Madam,
+
+ Very truly,
+
+ GODFREY VANDEFORD.
+
+The above epistle from a strange outer world found Miss Patricia Adair,
+attired in a faded gingham frock, planting snap beans in her ancestral
+garden. It was delivered to her by her brother, Mr. Roger Adair, from
+the hip pocket of his khaki trousers, upon which were large smudges of
+the agricultural profession. His blue gingham shirt was open at the
+throat across a strong bronze throat, and his eyes were as blue as his
+shirt and laughed out across big brown freckles that matched his
+chestnut hair.
+
+"Here's a letter I brought over from the post-office, Pat, along with a
+sack of meal and fifty cents' worth of sugar. Mr. Bates said Miss Elvira
+Henderson stopped in and told him to send it to you by the first person
+coming your way," he said as he threw the reins of the filly, whose
+chestnut coat matched his hair exactly, over the gate post, and
+proceeded to take from the pommel of the saddle the two bundles of
+groceries mentioned. "Mr. Bates sent you this bunch of tomato plants and
+head lettuce to set out along the back border of your rose beds, and
+I'll spade it all up for you right now if--"
+
+"Oh, Roger, listen, listen!" exclaimed Patricia, as she sprang to her
+feet from her knees upon which she had rested as she read the letter he
+had handed her. "My play, my play, it's sold!" And as she sparkled at
+him over the letter of Mr. Adolph Meyers held clasped to her gingham
+bosom, wild roses bloomed in her cheeks and tears sparkled in her gray
+eyes back of their thick black lashes.
+
+"What play?" demanded Roger, stolid with astonishment.
+
+"The one I wrote last month and the month before, when Mr. Covington
+said that the mortgage must be paid--or give up Rosemeade. I knew it
+would kill Grandfather to move him away from the house he was born in,
+and I couldn't think of anything that would get money quick but coal oil
+wells and gold mines and plays. It costs money to dig up oil and gold,
+but it is easy to write a play."
+
+"Oh, is it?" Roger questioned, with a twinkle in his eyes above the
+freckles. In his arms he still held the meal and the sugar, and his
+interest was an inspiration to Patricia to pour out the whole story in a
+torrent of tumbling words.
+
+"You know those love letters I have of our great grandmother's that she
+wrote to her husband while he was in Washington consulting the President
+about the first constitutional convention, the ones about the Indian
+raid and the battle at Shawnee. You remember the day I read them to you
+up in the apple tree in the orchard years ago, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, I remember the day," answered Roger, with another twinkle turned
+inward at the memory of his seventeen-year-old scorn of Patricia's
+eleven-year-old sentimentality.
+
+"Well, those letters are the play," announced Patricia triumphantly. "I
+read a lot of Shakespeare and other old English dramas I found in
+Grandfather's library to see exactly how to make one. It ends when he
+comes back expecting to find her killed and she is dancing at a dinner
+she has given her lover as a bet that he would come back by that night.
+It's wonderful!" As she thus laid bare the skeleton of her play child,
+Patricia took from doubting Roger the sack of sugar.
+
+"Shoo, that's not a play," hooted Roger, with a decided return of his
+seventeen-year-old scorn in his thirtieth summer.
+
+"Read that," answered Patricia with dignity, as she handed him Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford's letter, written and signed by Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Whew--uh, Pat, two hundred and fifty dollars!" Roger exclaimed, as his
+manner dissolved quickly from affectionate derision into respectful awe.
+
+"Oh, that's just a trifle for a beginning; those royalties may be worth
+several hundred thousand. In the 'Times Magazine' article that I read
+about Godfrey Vandeford and his plays, it said he had paid the author of
+'Dear Geraldine' more than a hundred thousand dollars in royalties. That
+is what made me write the play."
+
+"Say, let me take it sitting down," said Roger as he sank upon the grass
+beside a rose bed that had a row of spring onions growing odoriferously
+defiant under the very shower of its petals, and laid the sack of
+precious meal tenderly across his knees. "Now go on and tell me."
+
+"You see, Roger, I had to do something to get the money to keep the
+house for Grandfather. You know we couldn't get any more mortgage money,
+because it had closed up or something, and--"
+
+"Did Covington tell you he was going to foreclose after I--that is,
+right away?" demanded Roger fiercely, with a snap in the blue eyes above
+the freckles.
+
+"No," said Patricia, as she settled herself on the grass beside Roger,
+with the valuable sugar balanced tenderly upon her knee. "He told me
+that he would let it stand just as it was for three months until October
+first, but after that we would have to--to tell--Grandfather and move,"
+a quiver came into Patricia's soft voice that had in it the patrician,
+slurring softness that can only come from the throat of a grand dame
+sprung from the race which has dominated blue-grass pastures. "Doctor
+Healy says it won't be long but--but now he'll--he'll die in his own
+home that Grandmother built where he fought off the Indians. Her play
+has saved us."
+
+"I had fixed it to run until I make my crops," said Roger, with a choke
+in his voice that was a rich masculine accompaniment to Patricia's.
+
+"The play will have been running six weeks by that time, and I can pay
+most of it off. A hundred thousand a year is almost ten thousand a month
+and--"
+
+"But all plays don't succeed, Pat, honey, and--"
+
+"The 'Times Magazine' said that Godfrey Vandeford had never had a
+failure, and didn't you read that he wants to star Violet Hawtry in it?
+She was 'Dear Geraldine.' How could it fail?" Patricia was positively
+haughty toward Roger's timorousness.
+
+"That's so," admitted Roger, convinced. "And we can easy get by on the
+two fifty until October, especially with the garden I am going to raise.
+I'm no Godfrey Vandeford, but I'm a first-class producer--of potatoes
+and onions and cabbage and turnip greens and corn. In these war times a
+potato producer ranks with any old producer."
+
+"But I won't be able to leave all of the two hundred and fifty to use
+this summer. I'll have to take some of it with me."
+
+"With you where?" demanded Roger.
+
+"To New York. Do you suppose even Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would undertake
+to produce a play without the author there to help him?" Patricia's
+scorn of Roger's lack of sound reasoning about theatrical matters was
+hurled at him pitilessly.
+
+"Of course not," admitted Roger hurriedly. "You can take the whole two
+hundred and fifty and I'll look after the Major and Jeff."
+
+"I don't know what I'd do without you, Roger," said Patricia, as she
+cuddled her cheek for an instant against his strong, warm shoulder under
+the gingham shirt. "I'm afraid of New York. I know you'll take care of
+Grandfather; but who'll look after little me--I don't know what I'll do
+all by myself. Maybe I won't have to--"
+
+"Certainly you'll have to go," Roger interrupted with comforting
+assurance. "Go to the Young Women's Christian Association, and if
+anything happens to you telegraph me and I'll come get you."
+
+"I hadn't thought of the Y. W. C. A. Of course I'll be all right there.
+I'll get Miss Elvira to write a special letter to the secretary about
+me," exclaimed Patricia with the joy lights back in the great, gray
+eyes. "And it's so cheap there that I can leave a lot of the money at
+home. I'll only be gone about six weeks."
+
+"No, I think you had better take all the two fifty with you," said
+Roger. "You know you have to spend money to make money and you mustn't
+be short. I'll look after the Major and Jeff. Don't you worry, dear."
+
+"Will you let me buy you a big silo and a tractor plow when I get all
+the money? You are the greatest farmer in the world and you only need a
+little machinery to prove it." Again the young playwright rose to her
+knees and with letter and sugar in her embrace she entreated to be
+allowed to spend the money that was to be hers from "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," which she did not know was being cast in New York as "The
+Purple Slipper."
+
+"Certainly I'll let you help me, Pat. Hasn't what's yours and mine
+always been ours since we set our first hen together?" laughed Roger, as
+he rose to his feet and dragged Patricia to hers beside him. "Come on
+and let's break it to the Major. You may need me to stand by if it hits
+him on the bias," and they both laughed with a tinge of uneasiness as
+they went down the long walk of the garden which on both sides was
+sprouting and leaving and perfuming in a medley of flowers and
+vegetables.
+
+As they walked slowly along Roger cast an eye of great satisfaction over
+the long lines of rapidly maturing peas and beans and heavy-leaved
+potatoes, and in his mind calculated that a year's food for the small
+family at Rosemeade was being produced right at their door under his
+skilful hoe which he wielded at off times when he could leave the negro
+hands to their work out on Rosemeade, their ancestral five hundred acres
+of blue-grass meadows and loamy fields. Roger had for the summer quit
+his slowly growing law practice in Adairville, enlisted as a doughty
+Captain in the Army of the Furrows and was as proud of his khaki and
+gingham uniform with their loam smudges as of his diploma from the
+University of Virginia which hung in the wide old hall, the top one in a
+succession of five given from father to son of the house of Adair. The
+whole county was farming under the direction of Roger, and he had been
+obliged often to work Patricia's garden by moonlight.
+
+"I'm almost afraid to tell Grandfather," Patricia interrupted his food
+calculations to say as they came around the corner of the wide-roofed
+old brick house with its traceries of vines that massed at the eaves to
+give nesting for many doves, and beheld the Major seated in his arm
+chair on the porch which was guarded and supported by round, white
+pillars around which a rose vine festooned itself. A faded, plaid wool
+rug was across the Major's knees in spite of the fact that the evening
+was so warm, and about his shoulders was a wide, gray knitted scarf. A
+bent, white-haired old negro stood beside him filling his pipe for him
+and serving as a target for the words issuing from beneath his waxed
+white mustache that gave the impression of crossed white swords.
+
+"War! What do they know about war, Jeff? We killed our first Yankee
+before we were seventeen, and now they fight behind guns located six
+miles away by squinting through double-decker opera glasses. War, I say
+in these days--"
+
+"Yes, sir," assented Jeff, in soothing interruption of what he
+considered debilitating heat in the Major's words. "We whipped them
+Yankees in no time but they jest didn't find it out in time to stop
+killing us 'fore it all ended. Now, I'm going to help you to your room
+and make you comfortable for I--"
+
+"I see Patricia and Roger approaching and I'll wait to talk to them for
+a few minutes, Jeff," answered the Major with a slight note of entreaty
+in his voice.
+
+"Jess a little while, then, jess a little while," consented the old
+black comrade nurse as he shuffled into the house and back to his
+kitchen to complete his preparation of the simple evening meal for his
+little household. As he crisped his bacon, scrambled his eggs and
+browned his muffins he muttered to himself:
+
+"He's gitting weaker every day--help him Lord, and me to keep care of
+him."
+
+Just as he was turning the fluffy yellow scramble into a hot, old silver
+dish he paused and listened to the musketry of the Major's deep voice
+which was huge even in weakness, then he shook his head and began to
+hustle the food together to be able to use the announcement of the meal
+as an interruption to the harmful excitement, whose scattering words he
+was at a loss to understand.
+
+"Impossible! Impossible that my granddaughter should barter and trade in
+the theatrical world, a world into which no lady should ever set foot.
+No! Do not argue, Patricia! Roger and I understand, and it is not
+needful that you should," were the words of the assault and
+counter-charge that so puzzled old Jeff over his skillet and baker.
+
+"I'm not going to act in the play, Grandfather. I wrote it and I'm going
+to show them how I want it acted and then come right home," soothed
+Patricia, looking to Roger for help and reinforcement.
+
+"She'll stay at the Young Women's Christian Association, Major, and
+she'll be perfectly safe. I am going to write to Dennis Farraday, who
+graduated with me at the University, and ask him to look after her if
+she needs anything."
+
+"Ah, that puts another face on the matter," said the Major, with a
+degree of mollification coming into his keen, old face and weakly
+booming voice. "Of course, the Adairs have always been geniuses of one
+kind or another, and it is not surprising that my granddaughter should
+have produced a great American Drama. If she has the interest and
+protection of a gentleman who is a friend of her brother's, and a safe
+retreat in a woman's organization I will have to permit her to
+superintend the placing of her great work before an appreciative public.
+Of course, she will not be thrown with any of the theatrical world
+socially, and in a few weeks she will return to her own home, leaving
+that world better for having had a brief glimpse of her. You may go,
+Patricia. Jefferson!" Fatigue showed very decidedly in the Major's weak
+call to the old negro, who came immediately and rolled his chair away
+with an indignant cast of his eyes at the two young people.
+
+"Wh-eugh, that was a battle, and if I hadn't thought of old Denny to
+bring up as a support to the Young Women's Christian Association I think
+it would have sure gone the other way." And Roger laughed with the
+twinkle above the freckles as he leaned against the rose vine around the
+pillar and fanned himself with his hat.
+
+"_Is_ there any Denny?" questioned Patricia weakly, from the top step
+upon which she had sunk when the Major was wheeled away.
+
+"Certainly, and he's a jolly good fellow," answered Roger. "I had a
+letter from him year before last. I'll write him all about everything
+and he'll look after you for me. I'd trust Denny to do his best for me
+if I hadn't seen him for fifty years. I lived with him our Junior and
+Senior years and I know him. But I must go. I have to go back to the
+grocery again to get a plow point."
+
+"Please don't go until after supper," pleaded Patricia. "I want to think
+out loud to you. It has just struck me that I will have to have some
+clothes. What will I do about it? I can't go to New York in a gingham
+dress."
+
+"In such a crisis as that I think Miss Elvira will be a better target
+for your thoughts than I can be. I'll stop and tell her the news and
+send her over," teased Roger with his engaging twinkle.
+
+"I can't think to anybody like I can to you," said Patricia, as she came
+and stood beside him.
+
+"I really have to go, honey child, to see about the ploughing in my
+South meadow, but I'll come back to be in the finish of the dimity
+confab," answered Roger, as he patted Patricia on the shoulder and went
+rapidly away.
+
+And a dimity confab was a good name for the conference that was held in
+the July moonlight on the front porch of Rosemeade for several silvered
+hours that night. Miss Elvira Henderson, modiste, who was the guide,
+philosopher and friend, in the matter of costuming as well as in all
+other matters, of the feminine population of Hillcrest, had hurried down
+the street to the Rosemeade gate as soon as she had consumed her
+spinster baked apple and toast supper, and on her way had collected
+pretty Mamie Lou Whitson and progressive Jenny Kinkaid, who formed a
+thrilled chorus to her interested and joyful conversation with
+Patricia.
+
+"The eyes of the world will be on you, Patricia, and nothing short of a
+silk tailor suit will be suitable for you to wear to sustain yourself in
+such a position," declared Miss Elvira, with a positive degree of
+finality in her voice.
+
+"And you'll have to have at least three evening dresses, Pat, for that
+same article about Mr. Godfrey Vandeford said that Broadway only woke up
+at night. And you know it said he was the best known man on Broadway. Of
+course, he'll take you to lots of Cafes and dances, and midnight frolics
+and--and things," bubbled Mamie Lou very unwisely.
+
+"Patricia is to stay at The Young Women's Christian Association, and I
+am sure they will expect her to be in bed before any midnight
+foolishness," said Miss Elvira, with a severe glance at the frivolous
+Mamie Lou. "I shall, of course, make her an evening dress or two, one
+especially to wear when the multitude calls her before the curtain to
+express their admiration of and enthusiasm over her play, but I shall
+trust Patricia not to let them lead her into any undue frivolity. The
+theatres all close at eleven o'clock."
+
+"The article said that was the time that Broadway woke up, and--" Jenny
+began, as she hid behind Mamie Lou as if expecting a volley from Miss
+Elvira. But Miss Elvira was too much absorbed to notice her in any way.
+Miss Elvira was also in the throes of conceptive genius.
+
+"The last 'Woman's Review' had a colored plate of a suit that I can see
+on you, Patricia," she mused under her breath. "It was queer blue,
+with--"
+
+"In that big trunk of your great grandmother's up in the garret there's
+a blue silk that she wore in Washington that is that curious new blue
+color, Pat, and a lot more of--" Mamie Lou was saying with great
+executive ability when Miss Elvira seized on her idea and made it her
+own with the avidity of real genius.
+
+"We'll make over all of old Madam Adair's dresses for you, Patricia,"
+she decreed.
+
+"They've always been kept kind of sacred and--" Patricia began to
+remonstrate with uncertainty in her voice.
+
+"And rightly so--but at the presentation of her play it is proper for
+them to emerge," Miss Elvira further decreed. "Get a lamp and let's go
+look at them and decide to-night," she further commanded.
+
+And from the result of that resurrection in the garret of Rosemeade,
+Adairville, Kentucky, later Broadway, even Fifth Avenue, New York, got a
+decided and unwonted thrill.
+
+"The clothes are all right, Roger. Miss Elvira is going to make me a lot
+out of great-grandmother's clothes she wore in Washington to dance with
+Lafayette," Patricia confided to Roger as they stood under the rose vine
+in the moonlight at the late hour of ten-thirty that evening after she
+had helped him transplant a lot of sturdy tomato vines.
+
+"Little old New York will sit up and take notice when it sees you in
+party dimity, Pat," he said as he smiled down into the eager, gray eyes
+that were raised to his, beaming through their long black lashes.
+
+"Oh, I hope I'll make friends, Roger," Patricia answered the warmth in
+his voice as she clung to the warmth and strength of his arm as if in
+foreboding.
+
+"Of course New York will love you, Pat. Hasn't everybody always loved
+you?" he asked tenderly as he put his work-worn hand over hers on his
+arm.
+
+"Yes," answered Patricia, with her head suddenly held high. "If anybody
+don't like me, I'll make them."
+
+At about the same hour that this challenge to his world was flung from
+the lips of the beautiful and talented Miss Patricia Adair upon the
+moonlit and mockingbird trilled air of the Bluegrass State Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford was engaged in about the twenty-fifth round of the spanking of
+Miss Violet Hawtry in the State of New York, and he was having a hard
+time accomplishing his purpose.
+
+"It's just like your selfishness to try to put me into a piffling play
+by some unknown author with every risk to be run, when Weiner wants to
+buy your contract and put me into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' which is a
+play by Hilliard that gives me scope for all of my ability. He is
+willing to give you a fifth interest in it and that's all you deserve.
+I'll show you whether or not you can sacrifice my career,
+you ----! ----! ----! you!" And with which tirade the beautiful Violet
+stormed up and down the veranda of Highcliff in front of the supine
+figure of her manager, which was clad in immaculate white flannel, suede
+and linen, with a blue silk scarf knotted at the base of his lean,
+bronze throat, which matched the blue of his keen eyes under their
+gray-sprinkled brows, as the only bit of color in his irreproachable
+costuming.
+
+"You've read neither play, my dear Violet. You may like 'The Purple
+Slipper.' In which case you get the same salary and I get all the
+profits instead of the one-fifth our friend Weiner is offering me for
+letting you act in my other play," he answered his star's outburst in an
+easy, mollifying drawl.
+
+"Everybody knows that a Hilliard play is a _play_, and I'm not going to
+try out a new playwright just to put money in your pockets. Why should
+I?" demanded the star virago, in a fury that made her snapping Irish
+blue eyes, tall, strapping, curved body, and pale tawny hair combine
+into a good semblance of the jungle queen on a prey quest.
+
+"No reason except your contract entered into in all lawfulness,"
+answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "You know what the Courts are, and if
+you like I'll meet you there and fight it out instead of by these
+sounding sea waves in this delicious moonlight. Come here and kiss me
+and do let our lawyers settle it all for us." As he spoke he rose lazily
+and attempted to take the taut young cat into a pair of listlessly
+desirous arms.
+
+"Not on your life you big loafer, you, just because you put one over me
+when I was a starved stage door drab don't think I am that same kind or
+that sort of thing goes with me now." She spit the words at him as she
+half yielded to his nonchalant embrace and half repulsed it.
+
+"Be accurate, Violet, my dear: did I demand your heart until I had
+managed you and my own affairs to the point where you could buy
+Highcliff or any other trifles you wanted? There are other ladies to
+love in the world besides you, aren't there? There are other gentlemen
+besides me and you've had five years--and a wide hunting grounds. I've
+got you under only one contract--business and not--pleasure."
+
+"God, I don't know whether I love or hate you most," were the words of
+the conciliating purr that he got as she turned to put herself back
+under his caressing.
+
+"Hate, I wager," he laughed softly, as he drew away from her and seated
+himself on the railing of the veranda which hung out over the old ocean
+so that its hungry waves seemed to be leaping up to engulf him. The gray
+peaks and gable of the Hawtry cottage massed themselves back of him and
+in the silvering moonlight he looked like a white eagle perched on an
+eyrie.
+
+"Don't make me play that play; give me over to Weiner," the star of many
+such an encounter as well of "Dear Geraldine" coaxed, as she followed
+him and put bare, white, glistening arms around his neck and attempted
+to draw his head down against a bosom that still tossed with the storm
+of anger that she had put out of voice and face. "You know how last year
+nobody could get a theatre for love or money, and the producers who
+owned theatres put on all the plays and coined money. It will be worse
+next year. You have no theatre and Weiner has three. He offers to let us
+open the New Carnival. It'll be a sure thing; while your play will have
+to take its chance for a New York theatre and maybe get none. Please,
+Godfrey!"
+
+"Well, you see I had agreed to let Dennis Farraday in on this play, and
+it would sell him out to Weiner too," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he very
+gently but determinedly took the white arms from around his neck and
+refused the pillow of the storming breast.
+
+"Dennis Farraday?" Violet asked, and Mr. Vandeford shot a quick glance
+of question at her as he felt the tautening of the muscles in the white
+arms that he had in his grasp of untangling. "You are not going to trim
+him, are you?"
+
+"No, not if you make a hit in 'The Purple Slipper,' answered Mr.
+Vandeford, as he gave her another appraising glance while he lit a
+cigarette.
+
+"Has he read the play?"
+
+"He's putting his money on Hawtry in a play of Vandeford's selecting and
+producing," was the slap administered with the soft drawl. And as he
+slapped he watched the reaction.
+
+"What did you do with that copy of the play that fellow Dolph sent out
+this morning?" was what he got with an entire change of purpose in the
+beautiful, stormy face that had calmed in an instant.
+
+"It's in your room on the table by your bed," answered Mr. Vandeford, as
+he rose, stretched, yawned and in other ways indicated his desire for
+sleep in the primitive manner that a man uses in the bosom of his
+family.
+
+"I'm going to read it if you don't mind," the Violet said with a smile
+of pleasure instead of the frown of anger which had so lately rested on
+her fair face. Mr. Vandeford laughed inwardly; she was about as
+transparent as a very young kitten in its eagerness for a saucer of
+cream.
+
+"Good girl," answered Godfrey, as together they entered the dark house.
+Together they climbed the steps, and with a kiss executed by the Violet
+he left her to turn into the door of her room while he went on to his
+just beyond.
+
+Out of her sight the lazy, care-free manner left his lithe body, and in
+an instant every muscle stiffened to action. The smoulder of anger in
+his eyes blazed. He looked at his watch.
+
+"Thirty-five minutes to catch that eleven-fifteen train to town. Never
+again. I'm done!" he murmured and looked about him at his belongings
+strewn around his room. "I'll send Dolph out to pack to-morrow. A jump
+into tweeds and a sprint down the beach will make it."
+
+And after vigorously suiting his actions to his words for twenty minutes
+he was running swiftly down the beach well ahead of the time of the
+eleven-fifteen train. Just as the headlight cast a red ray down the long
+track he stepped on the platform and in ten seconds more he was being
+whirled away from the moonlight and sands and white arms, having
+accomplished his purpose of the spanking, cut forever chains that
+galled, and was well content with himself and the world.
+
+Back at Highcliff the beautiful Violet had been undergoing the rites of
+retirement, assisted by her very well-skilled maid, deep in an exciting
+dream of conquest. As she let her soft, perfumed, silken garments be
+taken from her one at a time until her pearly body was exposed to the
+brisk sea air, for which tonic Susette had thrown wide both broad
+windows, she was weighing in her shrewd little gutter-gamin mind the
+advantages of the road to the right against the turn to the left. The
+Hilliard "Rosie Posie Girl" in the fall produced by Weiner with all his
+trained staff, command of a big new theatre and three others, and
+following road prestige appealed strongly to her cupidity, which had
+been well trained in getting dimes from tight pockets in cheap cafes and
+ten, twenty and thirty theatres, but she had seen a grouping of Dennis
+Farraday's name in the paper a few days ago with the names of some young
+New York multimillionaires in a National Commission, and she knew that
+he and his "pile" were worthy of the effort of her charms. Also she had
+seen big, broad, breezy, gallant Dennis himself at luncheon with Mr.
+Vandeford in the Astor not ten days before, and her designs had been
+decidedly set in his direction. To her thinking, big, broad, breezy,
+gallant men were always easy. As Susette enveloped her rosiness from the
+sea air in a soft white cloud of chiffon and embroidery, removed the
+rose mules from her feet, helped her in between the fragrant linen
+sheets that were as soft as rich silk, threw over her a rose-colored
+puff of silk and lace and down, turned on her reading lamp, upon whose
+shade wanton fauns and nymphs sported, piled her pillows high and left
+her, the scales were about going down on the side in which was placed
+"The Purple Slipper," Mr. Dennis Farraday--and Miss Patricia Adair, who
+at that time was the unknown quantity which Fate often throws in any
+balance.
+
+With a luxurious sigh and flexing of her long, supple body the Violet
+picked up the business-like copy of the Violet manuscript which Mr.
+Adolph Meyers had sent her instead of the beribboned, purple
+"Renunciation of Rosalind," and began to read the first page when the
+telephone beside her bed rang with a soft tinkle. She picked up the
+ivory receiver and into it murmured a softly tentative:
+
+"Yes?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, Mr. Farraday! How are you?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Violet Hawtry."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Deliciously well, thank you."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, he's here, but the gay young thing has gone to bed hours ago."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Most interesting for me, but I have to submit."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, lovely. Do come. I'll adore having him routed out for you. Of
+course we'll go with you. I had forgot that Simone was to dance at the
+Beach Inn to-night."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No indeed, I have not undressed at all. I was going to study a part
+to-night."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I'm sure Godfrey can be dressed in half an hour, and it will take even
+your Surreness that time to get here. Take the beach road; it's fine.
+Good-by then. In half an hour."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+With which ending and beginning the Violet hung up the ivory receiver
+and rang for Susette. The summons was answered by Mrs. Aline Hawtry,
+_née_ Maggie Murphy the first, an embarrassing but in a manner cherished
+relict of the Hawtry past life in Weehawken.
+
+"Sure, and the little Frinchy is a-bed, Mag! What be ye wanting? The
+night is after sneaking out the back door of the morning." Mrs. Hawtry,
+once Murphy, was a big bonny edition of the Violet grown into a cabbage
+rose and her voice was also of the same rich texture.
+
+"Rout out Godfrey, Ma, and then stir up Susette with a hot stick. Mr.
+Dennis Farraday is coming down to take us over to see Simone dance at
+the Beach Inn. I want him to see me instead of Simone. Hurry!"
+
+"The poor dear boy, after a hard day in the cruel hot city. Alack!"
+moaned Mrs. Maggie as she billowed across to Mr. Vandeford's door and
+knocked. Then she paused and knocked again. From neither knock did she
+receive an answer as the moment was just about the one in which he had
+boarded the New York bound train a half mile up the beach down which Mr.
+Dennis Farraday was racing.
+
+When a search of the unresponsive room had convinced the Violet of his
+flight, for a moment her eyes were stormy, then her face cleared with a
+smile of delight, and as she padded back to her room and the waiting
+Susette, to herself she purred:
+
+"Nobody can beat my luck."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+There is a certain kind of man over whom all other men smile inwardly.
+The tone of voice in which they speak of him has an affectionate growl,
+which, once heard, cannot be mistaken. Such a man is apt to cherish what
+other men call "impossible ideals about women," and it behooves his
+masculine friends to watch out for him carefully lest he come a cropper.
+Mr. Dennis Farraday was such a man among men, and Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+loved him deeply. They had met when they were both twenty-three, on
+board a tramp steamer, bound for adventure in South Africa, and in the
+seven years that had elapsed since then they had spent periods of time
+together, in various kinds of sports. Killing time on Broadway was about
+the only sport that they had not tried together. By very solid banking
+and brokering Mr. Vandeford enjoyed and increased for himself and an
+aristocratic, Knickerbocker-descended mother a few ancestral millions.
+Incidentally, he took care of the sole hundred thousand dollars of which
+Mr. Vandeford's high financiering on Broadway had left him possessed.
+Mr. Farraday and Mrs. Justus Farraday represented the sole family ties
+possessed by Mr. Vandeford, and he considered them both most valuable.
+In fact, the maternal regard of Mrs. Justus Farraday was looked upon by
+Mr. Vandeford as his chief treasure and sheet-anchor in times of the
+high winds of life.
+
+"What makes you do it, Van?" questioned Mr. Farraday, as he sat with Mr.
+Vandeford in the early morning in the latter's rooms after the tumult of
+the first night of the unsuccessful "Miss Cut-up."
+
+"Excitement," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he put his bare heels,
+protruding from his Chinese slippers, up on the edge of the mahogany
+reading-table in his living-room, and began to pull at a long,
+evil-smelling, briar pipe. "Nothing like it."
+
+"Do you really care for all that noise, those explosions of chorus
+girls, sweating stage hands, cursing director and cursing star, paint,
+powder, electricity, paper walls and furniture, call-bells and
+hand-clapping from boozy critics in front?"
+
+"I do," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, with a glint in his eyes deep
+back in his head. "And so would you if you had bet about twenty thousand
+on that combination and could see the people begin to eat it up right
+before your eyes as you sat in a box and watched 'em. When you've backed
+your own combination of inferno on riot, it gives you a thrill to stand
+before the box-office and watch a line of people that stretches to the
+next block plunk down dollars that they have earned at their own
+particular combinations of life to see the combination you have made of
+yours. Why, tears come into my eyes when I see some little, old,
+dried-up seamstress pay a dollar to sit in the roost to see Gerald
+Height love the powder off of Violet while she is cursing him under her
+breath for so doing, and it tickles me under my ribs to see some fat,
+jolly, lonely, old party buy a front seat two days hand-running to sit
+and watch Mazie Villines dance over her own head and take the child out
+to supper afterward in all propriety. It does him good all over after
+selling white goods in Squeedunck, Illinois, eleven and three-quarter
+months of every year. It's all to the good, Denny, and I wish you could
+get the drag of it."
+
+"Perhaps it would be well if I could," agreed Mr. Farraday, as he rose
+and shook his big, lithe body with the agility of a frolicsome puppy who
+knows he is going into mischief, and looked cautiously at Godfrey. "Is
+backing the life of the Violet sport, too?" he ventured.
+
+"Best I know. Took nothing and made it into something in five years. If
+it bites my hand that's all in the game."
+
+"Same force could beget and train about eleven small Vandefords into
+pretty good American citizens," Mr. Farraday snapped out, and then
+backed away.
+
+"Absinthe cocktails ruin the taste for sweet milk. Don't talk about
+things you know nothing about; thank God for that same ignorance," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded. "Go to bed and sleep like the cherub you are, while
+I expiate here with my pipe."
+
+From that conversation it was natural to man nature that the demand for
+a half-interest in the next Hawtry show would have been made by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and acceded to with the
+brotherly reservations already related. The eye-teeth of Mr. Dennis
+Farraday were very precious to Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and he had the
+intention of taking great care that their edges should not be dulled. It
+was well that he did not know that the eleven-fifteen train he had taken
+in his flight to New York passed the huge, eight-cylinder Surreness of
+his beloved Jonathan in its race up the beach for the home of the
+Violet.
+
+Now, when all is said and considered, a large admiration is due and much
+should be forgiven Miss Violet Hawtry, who, as half-starved Maggie
+Murphy, had darted out of the gutter into the back stage-door at the age
+of fifteen, snapped her huge violet eyes with their fringes of black,
+trilled a vulgar, Irish street song in accompaniment to sundry
+provocative swayings of her lissome, maturing young body, and thus had
+made enough impression on her world to hang on by the tips of her
+fingers until she dropped into the outstretched arms of Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford, who was prowling around Weehawken and the vicinity for just
+such ripe fruit as she when he was casting his first musical girl-show
+for the purpose of some violent excitement after a snowed-in winter in
+the Klondike.
+
+He had taken her to an old stage-mother he knew, had her thoroughly
+washed, combed, manicured, dressed, schooled, and had given her the
+benefit of his respect for five years while she worked up into the star
+of "Dear Geraldine" with all the might of the Irish eyes and lissome
+figure and cooing, creamy voice. He had then built Highcliff in the
+artist's colony of the Beach for the joint domicile of mother and
+daughter. However, it is easier to bathe, comb, manicure, and
+luxuriously clothe a body than it is to renovate a soul, and within the
+Violet Maggie dwelt in all her gutter vigor. It is also safe to say that
+perhaps it was no little part of the Maggie that the beautiful and
+haughty Violet threw across the footlights to draw to her the primitive
+in the hearts of her vast audiences. It was to some extent the wisdom of
+Maggie that the Violet was using as she prepared for her first encounter
+alone with Mr. Dennis Farraday as he raced down the moonlit beach to
+her.
+
+"Not the violet and jet, Susette, but that white embroidered lisle, and
+take time to sew three inches of tulle around the top of the bodice in
+front and put folds five inches deep across the back. Let it come just
+below the shoulder," she commanded, as she commenced the whirlwind of a
+toilette with which, she had assured the hurrying Dennis, she was
+already adorned.
+
+"_Mais_, Mademoiselle--" Susette began.
+
+"He'd shy at too much omitted clothing when we are alone. I'll have to
+introduce him to myself gradually," she answered the protest, laughing
+as she tossed her pale, yellow mane high on her head, and dabbed a
+little curl against her cheek with the rose oil, and made a skilful use
+of the lip-stick brought by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford from the famed
+Celeste's.
+
+"He will behold that Mademoiselle Simone dance with very few garments
+_alors_," Susette pouted as she laid in the folds of modest tulle.
+
+"But he won't be alone in the moonlight with her, that is, if I can help
+it," answered the mistress, as she further perfumed and painted the lily
+of her beauty. "Don't worry, Susette; I'm going to give monsieur the
+time of his life."
+
+"That is without saying, Mademoiselle," answered Susette, as she slipped
+the silky fluff over the Violet's head, and fastened the one or two
+hooks that held it in place over the filmy undergarments in which the
+Violet stood waiting for its veiling. "_Mon Dieu_, what a beauty it
+gives you, and that placing of the tulle is _ravissant_."
+
+"That is what I meant it to be," laughed the Violet. "There's his car!
+Bring me that orchid wrap when I ring for it." And leaving the
+admiration of Susette, the Violet hurried down to drink from the cup of
+the same vintage she was sure would be offered her by Mr. Dennis
+Farraday. It was offered.
+
+"It's awfully good of you people to help a poor lonely dub to a pleasant
+evening," were the words with which the victim greeted the Violet, while
+his eyes offered the expected portion of admiration as he beheld her
+bathed in the radiance of the moon.
+
+"Sure the pleasure is ours--or rather mine, poor old Van," she answered,
+with not a little trepidation well hidden under her rich voice.
+
+"Couldn't you wake him up, the old scout? Let me get to him. I have a
+way with him I learned in the Nova Scotia woods." Mr. Farraday laughed a
+big laugh, which had in it the tang of the breeze in the tops of
+pine-trees. But the Violet was ready for him.
+
+"He's not there for your torture. The poor darling got a telephone
+message just twenty minutes ago to come back to New York to-night. I've
+just motored him up the beach to catch the eleven-fifteen train. Some
+day that tiresome Dolph will follow Van about some play snarl into--into
+Paradise."
+
+"He did that to-night, didn't he?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a merry
+laugh as he ruffled his red forelock up off his broad brow, and made
+himself look like a huge, tame lion.
+
+"Away with your blarney, boy!" laughed the Violet, in return, using her
+Maggie Murphy form of speech with telling effect, as she often did. "He
+left a thousand apologies for you," she added, slipping back into her
+veneer of the--for Maggie--upper world. "And you've had your race down
+for nothing; poor Simone!"
+
+"Oh, I say, can't we just go on over to supper at the Beach Inn? The
+Clyde Trevors asked me, and we can have supper with them. Wouldn't you
+like that? We can tell them about poor Van." He was as eager as a boy in
+his friendly efforts to mend what he thought must be a broken evening
+for her.
+
+"I'd love it," answered the Violet, with a flash of her white teeth and
+violet eyes at him.
+
+After a summons Susette appeared with the alluring orchid garment, and a
+white film of seed-pearls for her mistress's hair. She assisted the
+Violet's discreet Japanese butler to put them into the big car, which
+Mr. Farraday was driving himself, and then stood for a minute watching
+them hurl themselves away across the white sand.
+
+"_Quelle vie!_" she muttered to herself as she turned back into the
+darkened house.
+
+The Beach Inn was aglow and atwinkle and in full laugh as they ascended
+the steps of the wide veranda hung out over the ocean, where members and
+guests were having supper at small tables lit with shaded lamps. Men and
+girls, in bathing suits that were lineal descendants of the scant
+fig-leaf, were eating and drinking together sparsely because of their
+intention of taking a midnight plunge in the breakers under the hot
+moon, while other women in radiant evening garb were almost as scantily
+attired, though attended by stuffily garbed men. Most of the parties
+turned and called a laughing greeting to the Violet, for they were the
+men and women of her world disporting themselves away from Broadway, and
+Clyde Trevor, who had written the book for "Miss Cut-up," rose and came
+over to claim his guests.
+
+"Lost Van?" he questioned, as he led them to their seats beside Mrs.
+Trevor, who had danced fifty thousand dollars out of New York the winter
+just ended. His voice held a hint of irony, which the Violet got and Mr.
+Dennis Farraday missed.
+
+"Not quite yet," she said, with a coo at which Trevor smiled, and under
+his breath he gave her the word, "Good hunting!"
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Old Van had to hop back to New York on the eleven-fifteen, but we came
+on to glad with you anyway," Mr. Farraday was saying to Mrs. Trevor,
+with an ingenuous smile.
+
+"Go to it, baby," commanded Trevor to his wife, as a rich negro melody
+began to fling its invitation against the roaring call of the ocean, and
+at his word Simone rose from the seat of Mrs. Trevor and slid out into
+the cleared space at the head of the steps.
+
+"Just in time," commented Mr. Farraday under his breath, as he turned
+his chair to watch her drop her silk coat, and float out on the waves of
+sound just as she would later float on the waves of the ocean after she
+had plunged from the steps to lead the midnight bathing in the surf, for
+which the management of the inn paid her the sum of two hundred dollars
+per plunge.
+
+All of this gaiety and amusement was just a prelude to the ride home in
+the moonlight, which the Violet took with good Dennis Farraday and
+during which she discovered that there is such a thing as honor among
+men about poaching on other men's preserves, and during which, also, the
+fate of Major Adair, Patricia, Roger, and old black Jeff hung in the
+balance.
+
+"Just what are we racing?" she questioned as they flew along the beach
+with rubber tires that just skimmed the hard, white sand.
+
+"A bit fast?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a protective laugh, as he slowed
+down the flight.
+
+"Let's loaf and talk a while," the Violet answered, with a tentative
+note of invitation in her voice.
+
+"I had thought you and Van and I would have a great powwow over the
+play this evening, and it's fierce that he had to get back to that
+furnace a night like this, but we can limp along on a few ideas without
+him, maybe. What do you think of 'The Purple Slipper'?" As he set the
+car at an easy pace he turned and looked down at the lovely face so near
+his shoulder with a great and extremely boyish enthusiasm, which was
+very delightful and very irritating to the Violet.
+
+"What do you think about it? You tell first," she said with a smile that
+answered his enthusiasm adequately and which served to cover with
+agility the fact that she had not read the play.
+
+"Well, at first it seemed a queer kind of vehicle for you, but as I read
+on I could see you queening it in all those furbelows of dress as well
+as adventure and sentiment. It's a little serious in situation, but it
+is full of comedy adventure in line, and I can just see the audience eat
+you up in it. I told Van so, and I bought in before I had read more
+than half the second act. I don't feel as though I could wait to see you
+in that dinner scene while you hold the enemies of your spouse
+confounded. I agree with Van that your emotional qualities may exceed
+your comedy."
+
+"Does Van back my emotional acting against my comedy?" the Violet asked,
+with barely concealed surprise in her voice.
+
+"He does. He says that 'The Purple Slipper' is going to be the sensation
+of Broadway for the early fall, and I agree with him. Do you feel as
+sure of it as he says you are?"
+
+"Yes," answered the Violet, and by her assent in premeditated ignorance
+of the contents of the play manuscript she put the second cross on the
+production which made it a double on the fate of Mr. Dennis Farraday as
+a theatrical producer. However, that fact may have been balanced by the
+fact that it was the third cross on the fate of Miss Patricia Adair.
+Crosses on fates in the world of Broadway go in singles, doubles, and
+threes, and no man can tell their exact significance.
+
+"Good!" answered Mr. Dennis Farraday, with another and still broader
+smile of gratification and admiration of the Violet as an artist--a
+smile which further infuriated, but equally inspired her. "And what a
+grand time we'll all have putting it across! I'm going to help Van see
+actors for the cast on Friday, and I'm going to sit in on rehearsals
+straight through. I'm due a month's vacation, and I'm going to have my
+mail from the office relayed back to New York from the yacht off
+Nantucket so that bunch of money grubbers can't find me. Think of having
+the honor of being co-producer for Violet Hawtry for my first shot!"
+
+All of which enthusiasm and admiration went like wine to the head of the
+Violet, though it left her heart uncomfortably cold; and beautiful, cool
+moonlight heats the heart of a fair woman when it is not more than two
+feet away from that of a brave and fair man.
+
+"Sure I'll make it a success for you, man dear!" Maggie Murphy in the
+Violet made an attempt to put a glow into the situation, using the
+brogue that was like rich cream poured over peaches, as she snuggled her
+bare shoulder, from which the orchid wrap had slipped, with a natural
+little shiver against good Dennis's wheel arm.
+
+"You and Van are trumps to take me in for the fun, and I'm no end
+grateful to you both," was all she got for her manoeuver.
+
+"Yes--Van is a dear," she hedged in a matter-of-fact voice.
+
+"Yes, and I suppose after my co-first night with him the old scout will
+stop baiting me about blinking the white lights. I always have been
+obliged to beat Van at any game before I could rest in peace." And at
+the thought of getting in at his David big Jonathan laughed heartily
+just as he began to slow up the car for the turn along the sea-wall that
+led under the porch of Highcliff.
+
+"Have you ever competed with him in the biggest game of all?" the
+Violet asked softly, as the car swept into the shadow and stopped by the
+broad stone steps.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, with a countenance so open
+and a voice so hearty that the Violet, used to artifice from everybody,
+suspected that they could not be real, and this suspicion made her give
+up the game for the time being. She laughed with a mocking sweetness as
+she sprang out of the car and to the top of the steps before he could
+help her.
+
+"Some day I'll tell you what I mean," she mocked from the dark doorway.
+"Good-night!" And while he stood at the bottom step looking up at her,
+she vanished into the darkness of the house, leaving him out in the cool
+moonlight, a fate very different from what she had been planning for him
+for several hours.
+
+"Just as old Van said, they are nothing but children, and I blame him
+about trifling with her more than I thought I did; she's a dear thing
+and a little pathetic in her anxiety to make good for him. Scout has
+just got to do something about it all. She's a fine and devoted woman.
+And beautiful--whee-ugh!" The big thirty-year-old boy ended his
+soliloquy with a whistle, which showed that in a measure he had
+appreciated the dangers of the last hours. One of the eternal questions
+is how can a mere man be so wicked--or so good as he is often discovered
+by temptation to be?
+
+"I'll have to be publicly and finally severed from Van before I annex
+him, the boob," was the soliloquy of the Violet as she prepared for her
+slumber of beauty. Another question is how thin a veneer of feminine
+beauty weathers indefinitely the wash of circumstances.
+
+Then after that moonlit night in August Fate spun her web, which she
+called "The Purple Slipper," rapidly, and for a number of the people
+involved life became very hectic. The center of the whirl was Mr. Adolph
+Meyers, though he was safely functioning with power behind the throne
+occupied by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's nonchalant and elegantly clad
+figure.
+
+"But Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is never before that you have produced a
+play without a reading," he remonstrated on the morning of the day set
+for the picking of the cast from those probably suitable chosen by
+Chambers, the invaluable agent of the great army of those theatrically
+employed. "Actors will be here from twelve o'clock even to six. How will
+a choice be made?"
+
+"I'm trusting to your hunch about the purple manuscript falling on the
+day of the Violet letter, Pops," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "Make
+out a little memorandum against each name that tells me what to pick. I
+like the idea of going it blind that way: it may be lucky. And, Pops,
+split that five-thousand-dollar check of Mr. Farraday's in three ways.
+Pay Lindenberg two-fifty as his advance on the scenery for 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' provided he furbishes up something that will do for the
+little road sally of Violet's spanking-machine, to be emblazoned as
+'The Purple Slipper' on the cheapest black bills ever run off in New
+York. Give Hugh Willings a thousand advance for the music of 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' but make him write as many as six waltz songs even if you
+are sure the first is a hit; it is good to make people, specially any
+kind of artists, work for the money you pay 'em. The other fifteen
+hundred you had better put off by itself as a starter on the Violet's
+gowns. She likes to pay an Irish woman with a French name three hundred
+dollars for six dollars' worth of chiffon sewed with seventy-five cents'
+worth of silk."
+
+"What is for costumes for the 'Purple Slipper'?"
+
+"Oh, any old dolling up will do for that. The women can wear what
+they've got and the men borrow or rent." With a wave of the cigarette in
+his hand, Mr. Vandeford dismissed the scenic effects of the play for
+whose début Miss Elvira Henderson was concocting a dream costume to
+adorn the author for receiving triumphal plaudits.
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is a costume play of a period," the humble
+power behind the throne pleaded.
+
+"Oh, is it? Then rent the nearest layout to its date that Grossmidt has
+for all of 'em in a lump, and make him give you a bargain. Tell him they
+won't be worn more than two weeks. I guess Violet will be in line by
+that time." With which significant order Mr. Godfrey Vandeford turned
+from the anxious Mr. Meyers to answer the tinkling telephone at his
+elbow. In a second he was speaking to the most eminent stage director on
+Broadway.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Godfrey Vandeford, Bill."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes. Called to know if you would like to stage a little show for me
+right away."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes. I'm going to give Hawtry a little canter before 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl.' New line for her, and doubtful. Like to take hold for a
+pittance?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, yes, that three hundred a week for the 'Posie Girl' goes, of
+course, but this play is just a Hawtry whim that I have got to let her
+get out of her system. One hundred a week is my limit, and you ought to
+do it for seventy-five. You can sit in your chair all the time for all I
+care."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Now you get me--a hundred it is. Let her have her head and work off
+steam before we start 'The Rosie Posie.' Yes, Willings is doing the
+Rosie songs for us. They'll be hot stuff."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, Corbett's making sketches for 'The Rosie Posie' scenery now. We'll
+start 'The Purple Slipper' on Monday. Yes, that's its blooming name.
+By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Is it William Rooney to stage 'The Purple Slipper'?" asked Mr. Meyers,
+with a shrug of his narrow shoulders as he began pecking out on his
+machine the notes that were to guide his chief in picking the artists
+who were to embody the characters in the play founded on the life
+romance of that old grandame Madam Patricia Adair of colonial Kentucky.
+
+"Why do you reckon Samuel Goldstein likes to build up a reputation for
+himself on Broadway by the name of William Rooney, Pops?" inquired Mr.
+Vandeford, with the idle curiosity of a free and untroubled mind.
+
+"It is the prejudice against Hebrews for a reason," answered Mr. Meyers,
+with a glint in his gem-like eyes and a wave of color flushing across
+his high, scholarly forehead.
+
+"Well, the top crust of the whole show business is Hebrew, and I should
+think the bunch of you would be proud of the fact. I'm even proud that a
+man named Adolph Meyers runs this whole company, and me included," said
+Mr. Vandeford, without taking the trouble to note the wave of gratified
+pride, devotion, and embarrassment that swept over the countenance of
+his faithful henchman. "Now I'll get a little booking for your 'Purple
+Slipper,' and that is all you need expect me to do, except shoulder all
+the loss I haven't shunted on Denny."
+
+"It is to be a win, not a loss," murmured the loyal Adolph under his
+breath, with a glance of affection at the absorbed Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford.
+
+This vow of Mr. Adolph Meyers shows that it is as dangerous to arouse
+the affection and loyalty of one genius as it is to incur the anger of
+another.
+
+The casting of "The Purple Slipper" was a joy to Mr. Dennis Farraday. He
+was to pay well for it in the future, but it was conducted in pure glee.
+He sat beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford in the latter's long, Persian
+carpeted, soft-tinted, and famous-actor-photograph-bedecked, private
+office beside that eminent producer, and watched the strong light from
+over their shoulders reveal the points of the men and women who came in
+to exhibit themselves. From the moment they entered the door, through
+the walk or waddle or lope or saunter with which they approached their
+fate to the expressions of joy or disappointment which their emotions
+showed under Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's grilling, Mr. Farraday was deeply
+interested.
+
+"You know, Bébé, it is not necessary to put on more than a hundred extra
+pounds when in training for the heavy mother," he genially admonished a
+very large lady of uncertain age--an age artfully covered with rouge,
+powder, pencil, and lip-stick--who sank into the chair facing him with a
+pathetic remnant of the former lissome grace which had got her as far as
+being a dependable leading woman to any star who could go her a few
+points better.
+
+"Well, it's not from living on large salaries from you that I have put
+on the pounds, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford!" she answered with a jovial laugh.
+
+"Still eating half of old Wallace Kent's salary checks?" Mr. Vandeford
+demanded. This seemed a lack of delicacy to Mr. Dennis Farraday, who
+blushed with a color equal to that which rose in the cheeks of the old
+beauty as her eyes snapped and she rose to her feet.
+
+"As you know, he's feeding a squab chicken at Rector's to get her into
+the broiler class. Good-day, sir," and she prepared to sweep out of the
+office with all the fire she had used in many a queenly situation.
+
+"Good old Bébé," Mr. Vandeford said, as he rose and put a restraining
+arm around her broad waist. "I was just teasing to see what was
+smouldering. How'll seventy-five a week, with costumes of frills and
+powdered hair, do you? Thirty sides and the center of the stage four
+times." "Sides," meaning single sheets of dialogue, puzzled Mr.
+Farraday, but he made a mental note to seek enlightenment.
+
+"I haven't had a part this winter, Godfrey," she laughed, and sobbed on
+Mr. Vandeford's shoulder. "I'm living in a suitcase at Mrs. Pinkham's."
+
+"Stop and get a twenty-five check from Dolph, and be on the job Monday
+at the Barrett Theatre. Now run!" Mr. Vandeford gave Miss Bébé Herne's
+two hundred pounds of avoirdupois a gentle shove toward the door, which
+hint she took with an alacrity that had in it a great deal of left-over
+grace.
+
+"Supported a lot of big guns for years. Knows her business better than
+any actress on Broadway," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to his horrified
+confrère as the door closed behind the old beauty. "Picked up Wallace
+Kent when he was a piffling, faded juvenile, and taught him to be a good
+elderly support worth his hundred to any director. He's left her flat
+for a pony in the Big Show, old hound!"
+
+"Pretty raw," observed Mr. Dennis Farraday, with a great deal of emotion
+very poorly concealed in his sympathetic voice.
+
+"Oh, she's had her fling in life! Dopes a bit, but can be depended upon.
+Next!"
+
+This time there entered a husky, young brute of a boy with shoulders
+broad enough to run a double-decker plough. His hair was long and
+sleeked close to his well-shaped head, but his fine mouth and chin
+sagged, and his eyes were bold and sophisticated. In costume he was the
+glass and mould of Broadway fashion.
+
+"Reginald Leigh," he announced himself in a nice voice, and, as he
+spoke, took from a case a card and laid it on the edge of Mr.
+Vandeford's desk.
+
+"Experience, Mr. Leigh?" asked Mr. Vandeford, still standing and with
+not an atom of encouragement in his whole body from head to toe.
+
+"College dramatics and last summer in stock at Buffalo. I've worked in
+two pictures for the Universal."
+
+"Heavy juvenile at fifty a week," offered Mr. Vandeford, with an
+indifferent glance up from the paper in his hand prepared for his
+guidance by the indefatigable Mr. Meyers. The word "handsome" was typed
+in the offer from which Mr. Vandeford made to Mr. Leigh.
+
+"My price is a hundred, Mr. Vandeford," answered Mr. Leigh, very
+pleasantly, and he took a grip on his hat and stick that was meant to
+convey the idea of immediate departure.
+
+"Sorry," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a finality that staggered Mr.
+Dennis Farraday; for the youngster's looks and charm were so evident
+that it pained him to see "The Purple Slipper" lose them. "Costumes
+historical, furnished," added Mr. Vandeford, with increased
+indifference.
+
+"Oh, in that case--" murmured the boy, almost, but not quite, unleashing
+his eagerness.
+
+"Just leave your telephone number with Mr. Meyers in the outer office,
+please. Good-morning, Mr. Leigh," was the answer his concession got
+along with the dismissal in the "good-morning," which was spoken in such
+a tone that it was obeyed in short order.
+
+"That is a find," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to the gasping Mr. Dennis
+Farraday. "Handsome young chaps who have any kind of manliness are hard
+to find these days. Too busy to be actors."
+
+"Why didn't you engage him?" further gasped his partner in the adventure
+of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I'll let him cool his heels, to get some of the know-it out of his
+system. Dolph will make him come around and beg in less than twenty-four
+hours."
+
+"See here, Van, these people are artists to whom you are trusting your
+money and reputation as a producer, and you treat them like--"
+
+"The foolish children that they are," interrupted Mr. Vandeford. "Next!"
+and he pressed a button under his desk that buzzed for Mr. Meyers's ears
+alone.
+
+The next three applicants were girls, who respectively giggled,
+glowered, and simpered. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford chose the two who glowered
+and simpered and got rid of the giggler by referring her telephone
+number to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"That second that you sent away was the prettiest of the bunch,"
+commented Mr. Dennis Farraday, with interest that had survived to that
+point with undiminished intensity.
+
+"Not at home under that little cocked hat. That giggle was the whole bag
+of tricks," instructed Mr. Vandeford. "Got any men out there, Pops?" he
+asked through the telephone to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+Immediately there entered a debonair, very handsome, and sleek gentleman
+of uncertain age.
+
+"Hello, Kent, want to support Bébé in a costume play for a hundred a
+week?" asked Mr. Vandeford, with not an instant's greeting in answer to
+that gentleman's cordial good-morning.
+
+"In New York or on the road?" questioned Mr. Kent, with an assurance
+that he tried to make bold.
+
+"To the devil if I send you there," was the answer he got straight off
+the bat.
+
+"A hundred with costumes?"
+
+"With costumes."
+
+"Done."
+
+"See Dolph; but not over ten-dollar advance to save your hide."
+
+"He's giving fifty."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"Bébé."
+
+"He did that because he knew that you'd get half of what he gave her.
+Ten's your limit."
+
+"All right. Good-morning!"
+
+"Barrett on Monday morning."
+
+"All right!"
+
+With which Mr. Kent rapidly made his exit.
+
+"Old reprobate! But he does feed the lines to his opposite, and Bébé
+happy is worth twice Bébé in a grouch. You see what the whole blamed
+thing is like and--" Mr. Vandeford was interrupted by the tinkle of the
+telephone at his elbow.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Godfrey Vandeford speaking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"When did you get in?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Not busy at all."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"The Claridge?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Right away."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Haven't seen or heard from him in two days."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Right over. By!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+From overhearing, as he was forced to do, this one-sided conversation,
+how could Mr. Dennis Farraday imagine that Violet Hawtry had come into
+sultry New York seeking him to devour and that his keeper was rushing
+away from his presence to his defense?
+
+"You and Pops engage the rest, Denny. You see the trick now. Nothing
+left important but what Dolph puts down on this paper as 'woman support
+for character parts with looks.' Try your hand, old man, and if you pick
+a flivver there are plenty more to cast in and her out. By!" And before
+Mr. Farraday could protest he was left alone in the inquisition-room.
+And as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford went down in an elevator on his way to the
+Claridge to deliver the next instalment of the spanking of Miss Violet
+Hawtry, he passed a live wire going up opposite him and met one walking
+down Forty-second Street, neither of which he could be expected to
+recognize, as he had never seen either.
+
+The first of the two dynamos walked into the office of the Vandeford
+Producing Company and failed to thrill Mr. Adolph Meyers in the least, a
+fact for which he could never afterward account. He motioned her into
+the inner office, and left her to her fate and Mr. Dennis Farraday.
+
+"Good-morning, Mr. Vandeford," she said in a queer, throaty kind of
+voice that had in it a "come hither" of unusual quality, which
+suggested that in her production a Romney woman might have loved a Greek
+dancer well. She stood at ease before the long desk with a grace that
+was unmistakably that of complete assurance.
+
+"I'm not Mr. Vandeford, but his--his partner, Dennis Farraday. Er--er,
+won't you be seated?" and with the happy, considerate manner of his that
+he had always used to all women, he offered her his own chair and
+appropriated the one of authority that Mr. Vandeford always occupied.
+
+"Thank you," answered the young woman, with an ease equal to his own.
+And then they both waited while regarding each other seriously. Finally
+the tension relaxed and Dennis Farraday gave a big, jovial laugh while
+he made his admission:
+
+"I don't know a thing about the play business. I'm just sitting in with
+Mr. Vandeford for the fun of it."
+
+"An angel?" asked the girl, with a laugh that somehow accorded with
+his.
+
+"That's it. He's gone out and left me to--to cut my eye teeth."
+
+"On me?"
+
+"Looks that way," and again they both laughed.
+
+"Maybe I can help you," volunteered the girl, after the laugh. "I am
+Mildred Lindsey, and Mr. Chambers sent me in to see if I could support
+Miss Hawtry."
+
+"Er--er, what experience?" Mr. Dennis Farraday managed to ask by fishing
+into his impressions of the last two hours.
+
+"Five years in stock on the Pacific coast, two years in towns between,
+and two weeks in a flivver here on Broadway early in the spring. Dead
+broke, hungry, and about ready to make good for some manager." As the
+answer was fired point-blank at him, Mr. Dennis Farraday seemed to see a
+fire of psychic hunger blaze as high as that of wolfish, physical agony
+in the girl's eyes.
+
+Mr. Dennis Farraday eagerly searched on the paper of guidance in casting
+made out by Mr. Adolph Meyers for the benefit of Mr. Vandeford and
+found "woman support," and opposite the item of salary, seventy-five
+dollars. He doubled.
+
+"How would a hundred and fifty a week with costumes do for salary? You
+can have a couple of weeks advance right now if you like," he said in an
+easy, nonchalant manner as much like that of Mr. Vandeford as he could
+muster, for those fires of hunger in the girl's eyes were searching
+holes in Mr. Dennis Farraday's pocket.
+
+"It would save my life--but--but could you tell me a little about the
+part? I might not be able to play it." There were both hope and fear in
+her compelling voice.
+
+The question found Mr. Dennis Farraday unprepared by any precedent
+established in the two foregoing hours, for between the artists and Mr.
+Vandeford there had been alone the matter of salary to be settled and
+not one of them had inquired whether they were being engaged to play a
+Billy Sunday or an Ethiopian slave. But in another way it found him
+better prepared than would have been Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. He had read
+the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford had not.
+
+"Well, to my uninitiated way of thinking, the supporting part is about
+as good as the leading one," said Mr. Dennis Farraday, and forthwith he
+launched out on an eager, enthusiastic resumé of the plot and
+atmosphere, even quoting lines of "The Purple Slipper." And as he talked
+Mildred Lindsey leaned across the table toward him and fairly drank in
+his words.
+
+"I see--it's wonderful how she keeps his enemies at bay during the first
+half of the banquet--while she waits. It's great!" Her enthusiasm
+expressed in her wonderful voice urged Mr. Dennis Farraday on and on to
+a fuller exposition of the play and its beauties.
+
+"You see, the sister is really the one to carry the plot. It is on her
+that Rosalind leans, and she has to be all there in her quiet way."
+
+"Yes, I see, and it can be made--" At this juncture the eye of Mr.
+Adolph Meyer was inserted to a crack of the door and then removed as he
+shook his head in puzzled doubt. He had intended to intrude to the
+rescue of his co-employer's inexperience, but he decided that the time
+was not ripe by one glance at Mr. Farraday's eager face, surmounted by
+its rampant, red leonine locks.
+
+"I have pity for Mr. Farraday," Mr. Meyers remarked to himself as he
+seated himself at his machine, not knowing that in a very few minutes
+the second live wire would arrive in the office and this time he would
+get a shock himself.
+
+For a half-hour he wrote on, while the animated voices boomed and purled
+and bubbled in the office beyond the crack of the door he had left open
+to observe the first lull that might call for relief. Then he got his
+shock.
+
+The office door opened timidly, and somebody entered so quietly that she
+stood beside Mr. Adolph Meyers before he had lifted his head.
+
+It was the author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," now "The Purple
+Slipper," and she looked every inch of it! Miss Elvira, the genius
+guided by "The Feminist Review," had done her best with the blue-silk
+suit, and Fifth Avenue could have done no better.
+
+"May I see Mr. Vandeford? I am Miss Patricia Adair," she announced in a
+rich and calm Southern voice and manner.
+
+Mr. Adolph Meyers sprang to his feet with the impact of the shock.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford is not in the office, Madam, at present," he managed to
+gasp. Then he followed her big, gray eyes as they rested on the crack of
+the door through which the boom of Mr. Dennis Farraday's voice mingled
+with the excited chime of Miss Lindsey's laughter, and noticed as though
+for the first time that it had emblazoned upon it in large, gilt
+letters, "Mr. Vandeford. Private."
+
+"It is Mr. Dennis Farraday, the partner of Mr. Vandeford, engaging
+actors, Miss, in his absence. Will you walk in?" and in almost the first
+panic in which he had ever indulged Mr. Adolph Meyers showed the proud
+young author into the sanctum sanctorum from which he had barricaded
+many an enraged virago who had threatened his life if he kept her from
+an appeal to the manager.
+
+"It is Miss Adair, the author of your play, Mr. Farraday, would speak
+with you," he announced across the long room, bowed in a way he had
+never done in his life, and shut the door behind Miss Adair.
+
+It is interesting to wonder how it would have affected the end of the
+whole matter if Patricia Adair had walked in behind the giggler when Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with all his experience with authors, was seated on
+the throne instead of poor inexperienced Dennis Farraday, enjoying "The
+Purple Slipper" with his newly engaged, supporting lady.
+
+"By jove, Miss Adair, it is little bit of all right that you should come
+in and catch Miss Lindsey and me chewing joy-rags over our--your play.
+Let me introduce Miss Lindsey, who is to support Miss Hawtry in the part
+of Harriet." And bonnie Dennis, the angel, beamed with pure joy at the
+good time he was having as a producer. At the very sight and sound of
+him poor Patricia, who for half an hour had been wandering up and down
+Forty-second Street, looking for the tallest building on it, took both
+comfort and delight, and her sea-gray eyes with stars in their depths
+returned the beam of his eyes.
+
+"It's so wonderful that you like my play and are going to produce
+it--and you to act in it, Miss Lindsey," she said as she seated herself
+in the chair Mr. Farraday had drawn up for her. She looked at them both
+with respectful awe in her eyes and in her cheeks a flush of color that
+came and went as she spoke, in a way that at first puzzled Miss Lindsey
+as to its brand and then in turn awed her as she decided it was the real
+thing. The blue-silk triumph of Miss Elvira and "The Review" also
+puzzled her for a moment, but she put it down to some little Fifth
+Avenue shop that only débutantes and authors of plays could afford, and
+took it in with delight at its exquisite detail.
+
+"I think it is a dandy play, as Mr. Farraday has been telling it to me.
+Crooks and--and cut-ups are about done for," said Miss Lindsey. She gave
+a quick glance at Mr. Farraday, to see if he resented the allusion to
+Mr. Vandeford's recent failure.
+
+"Right-o!" agreed Mr. Farraday, with a sympathetic smile at her
+allusion, which passed over the head of the lady from Adairville,
+Kentucky.
+
+Then ensued more than a half-hour of the most enthusiastic discussion of
+plays in general, and Miss Adair's in particular. Both Mr. Dennis
+Farraday and Miss Mildred Lindsey were impressed with the fact that the
+author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind" had learned her business from
+the most erudite sources, and they talked Shakespeare and Fielding
+until they at last wound themselves up into a complete pause.
+
+Miss Adair broke the strain.
+
+"I'm awfully hungry, and I don't know where to go to get something to
+eat," she said, with exactly the same tone of confidence she had used in
+asking old Jeff for a cold muffin in between the meals of her eighth
+summer.
+
+"By Jove, we are all hungry! You girls come with me," exclaimed Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, as he jumped to his feet and looked around for his hat.
+
+"Thank you, but I think I had better go home to--to see about--" Miss
+Lindsey was faltering with the embarrassment of those who are both proud
+and hungry, when food is offered them socially.
+
+"Nonsense! You are coming over to the Claridge with Miss Adair and me
+for a bite. Then you can come back by here and see Dolph.--Dolph, make
+out a check for Miss Lindsey's advance. Shall we say one or two hundred,
+Miss Lindsey?" Dennis Farraday was in his element when doing the breezy
+protective to two girls at once.
+
+"One hundred, please," answered Miss Lindsey, with color mounting to her
+cheeks that underpainted that already there. She smiled with amusement
+at the surprise that manifested itself for an instant on the round face
+of Mr. Meyers that an actress should not "grab" all offered her and then
+plead for more. "But I really do feel that I had better not--go to
+luncheon, for I am--"
+
+"Please do! I'd rather you would," the eminent author urged, and she
+clung to the show girl in a way that showed Dennis Farraday, accustomed
+to the women of her world, that vague proprieties were hovering beside
+the gates that were opening for Patricia from her old world into her
+new.
+
+"You'll have to come, Miss Lindsey, to celebrate, or we shall think you
+are not all for the play," Mr. Farraday said with a finality in his
+voice that settled the matter.
+
+And the three of them scudded along a few blocks of the sun-steamed
+streets into the coolness of the Claridge, also into the heart of a
+situation that had been seething for an hour between Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford and Miss Violet Hawtry.
+
+"How wonderful of you, Van dear, to find me such a play at the eleventh
+and three-quarters hour!" had been the volley that Violet had fired at
+him.
+
+"Glad you like it," he had parried, feeling sure that she was jockeying
+with him for position for the clinch.
+
+"Dennis Farraday told me that you were backing my emotional handling
+even more than my comedy scenes. Could you for once be playing square
+with me and really looking forward to my development in getting
+this--this rather remarkable kind of a play for me?"
+
+"I've done my best for you for five years, Violet," he quietly answered
+the insult, as he looked across the empty white tables that stretched
+away from Violet's favorite and reserved seat in the black and gold
+dining-room.
+
+"'Miss Cut-up,' for instance?"
+
+"There were several ways to put that play across. You had your way in
+every particular. Mine might have succeeded," was his calm answer.
+
+"The really amusing thing about you is that you don't at all know how
+little brains you have," was the polite broadside delivered him as
+Violet began to sip the clear coffee from her cup.
+
+"Same to you," was the reply she received. Godfrey spoke in a
+good-natured tone of voice. "Now, what did you come to town to talk
+about--'The Purple Slipper'?"
+
+"Why did you leave Highcliff like a thief in the night?"
+
+"Did you read the deeds Dolph gave you when he went up to pack my
+personal effects?"
+
+"Yes, thanks! I suppose you consider Highcliff the price of your
+freedom?"
+
+"And cheap at that."
+
+"Then why not turn me over to Weiner?" Violet asked in a dangerous tone
+of voice that made Mr. Vandeford glance around with apprehension to see
+who would witness the explosion if it occurred.
+
+"I tried to buy Denny off yesterday, but you fastened 'The Purple
+Slipper' firmly in his head, maybe his heart, the other evening, and it
+would be like taking candy from a child. Maybe you can--can influence
+him to let go--if I give you the chance." There was something coolly
+insulting in his voice that told Violet he had surmised her intentions
+and the failure of her assault on his big Jonathan.
+
+"Your usual impertinence! I'll get him yet, just to spite you. I'll go
+in and play that 'Purple Slipper' to win, and--"
+
+"Again Miss Adair breaks in on enthusiasm for her play." Dennis
+Farraday's big voice boomed right at the elbows of the embattled pair.
+"Look who's here, Van!"
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford looked up quickly, and as quickly rose to his
+feet. And with one glance into slate-gray eyes behind long black
+lashes--eyes filled with awed, worshipful gratitude to him--his heart
+rose in his breast and all but flitted out upon his sleeve.
+
+"Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford, the producer of your play," good Dennis
+flourished. "And Miss Violet Hawtry! In fact, the whole happy family!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Now, by all rules of the game, it was the prerogative of Miss Violet
+Hawtry to take charge of a situation in which the star of a play meets
+the author; but she missed her cue, and the gutter instinct within her
+sat dumb and dumfounded before the lady from Adairville.
+
+"I'm charmed to meet you, Miss Hawtry," Miss Adair assured her, with a
+glance of such admiration and friendliness that even Violet's
+narrow-gage soul expanded into a variety of graciousness all its own,
+and she smiled back into the eyes of the young author with a radiance
+that had the semblance of warmth.
+
+"And this is Miss Lindsey, whom we have chosen to support you in our
+play, Miss Hawtry," Mr. Dennis Farraday continued, with a glance of
+respectful awe at the Hawtry, which matched that given her by the
+author a second before and obtained for Miss Lindsey a cordial enough
+recognition of the introduction only slightly to frappé her instead of
+freezing her entirely. "We are all hungry," he added after the change of
+civilities.
+
+"You are all having luncheon with me," Mr. Vandeford found his voice to
+say. Ignoring Violet's glance of indignation at this skilful avoidance
+of a climax of her scene with him, he had three extra covers laid at the
+corner table devoted to the services of Miss Hawtry.
+
+"I warned you that we were hungry, Van," said Mr. Farraday, as he began
+to search through the menu for an article of diet safe to pour in
+quantities into a girl who had long been empty. "How'd rare steak and
+fresh mushrooms do?" he asked, and he looked away from what he was sure
+would be in the eyes of Miss Lindsey, and which was there.
+
+"Wonderful!" she murmured.
+
+"Right-o, for you and Miss Lindsey, but what about nightingales' tongues
+for my author?" laughed Mr. Vandeford, with an interested note in his
+rich voice, which caused Miss Hawtry to look at him sharply and Miss
+Adair to repeat the blush to such a degree that Miss Hawtry, as Miss
+Lindsey before her, was forced to admit that it was native and not
+imported. The flush did not pass unnoticed by Mr. Vandeford, as he
+laughed again with a question as to her nourishing.
+
+"I want something that I don't know what the name means," calmly
+returned Miss Adair, with delighted excitement at the thought of
+adventuring into a land of strange food. "I know steak and ham and eggs
+and chicken and turkey."
+
+"Will you trust me?" asked Mr. Vandeford. There was an eagerness in his
+voice and smile that again made the Violet glance at him and then at Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The latter was beaming with mirth at the dilemma of
+feeding the young author who was so frankly scattering her hay-seeds on
+the metropolitan atmosphere. At that instant Miss Hawtry made a
+momentous decision.
+
+"Trust Mr. Vandeford and you can't go wrong," she advised with peaches
+and cream in her voice, and for some unknown reason Mr. Vandeford would
+have been glad to twist the creamy throat from which issued the creamy
+voice. Instead, he turned, calmly summoned the head waiter, and went
+into a conference with him in a few very discreet words, which the rest
+could not hear, though there was no sign of any intention of keeping the
+consultation from them.
+
+"I think it will be wonderful not to know until I taste it and maybe not
+then!" exclaimed the author, with another of her sea-gray, long-lashed
+glances of worshiping admiration at Mr. Vandeford, the eminent Broadway
+producer who was putting a great star into her play based on the
+adventures of an ancestress.
+
+Of course the situation was dangerous to both Mr. Vandeford and his
+author, but who was to blame?
+
+And the jolly, impromptu luncheon-party was not the kind of episode that
+could soon be forgotten by any of the guests. The unknown food for the
+author was served by the head waiter himself, and he refused to answer
+questions as to its origin or component parts, even when urged by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The expression on Miss Lindsey's face after her
+encounter with the steak and mushrooms, served with an exalted baked
+potato, was one of decided relaxation. The look of affection in her eyes
+as she glanced at the author who had dragged her into this food
+situation rivaled the suddenly rooted admiration which beamed in the
+eyes of Mr. Dennis Farraday and which put Miss Hawtry alertly on watch,
+so much so that Mr. Godfrey Vandeford was privileged to lean back in his
+chair behind a mist of cigarette-smoke and let his eyes gleam where they
+listed.
+
+"Now tell us just how you happened to think of all the wonderful things
+in your play, Miss Adair, specially that dinner situation," Mr. Dennis
+Farraday urged. He was lighting Miss Hawtry's cigarette, to the intense,
+though concealed, interest and astonishment of Miss Adair of Adairville,
+Kentucky. He thus asked sincerely and interestedly the usual question
+that the unsophisticated fires at an author at the first opportunity and
+which the author, no matter how sophisticated, really enjoys answering.
+
+And thereupon followed the story of the old letters in the trunk, with
+the mortgage only so lightly and proudly alluded to that the hearts of
+the listeners were decidedly touched, told by the author with the
+delighted enthusiasm that their sympathy warranted.
+
+"And so you see, since it couldn't be oil-wells or gold mines it had to
+be the play," she ended, quoting herself in her conversation with the
+faithful Roger, who was at that moment following his plow with his mind
+on the straight furrows and his heart in New York.
+
+"You are a precious darling, and your play _must_ succeed!" said Miss
+Lindsey impulsively at the end of the recital, and then she quickly
+glanced at Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to see if he resented her taking this
+affectionate liberty with his distinguished author. She found that
+eminent producer not at home to her glance; he was lost in contemplation
+of tears that hung on the long black lashes that veiled Miss Adair's
+gray eyes and a little quiver that manifested itself on her red lips.
+Then she shook off the tears by lifting those long lashes so that she
+could look straight into his eyes with a smile of absolute confidence in
+his intention and ability to remove from her life forever all of her
+distress, which was alone poverty in the concrete, by being the
+successful producer of her wonderful play. Men of Godfrey Vandeford's
+type admit many strange fires and their votaries into the outer temple
+of their hearts, but they keep the inner shrine tightly surrounded by
+asbestos curtains. However, there is always one, and one only, closely
+guarded entrance through which the ultimate woman must slip in an
+unguarded moment. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would never have thought of
+being on any particular guard against the author of a play in purple
+ribbons entitled "The Renunciation of Rosalind," but he knew almost
+instantly that something dire had happened to him as he sat and writhed
+at the thought of his plans for the extinction of that piece of dramatic
+art, which he had not even read. The whole sophisticated world has
+decided that there is no such thing as love at first sight, except the
+biological scientists and they know and can prove that such a thing does
+exist and that it is a worker of wonders. And dire pain is one of its
+reactions.
+
+But all agony comes to an end and so did Mr. Vandeford's. Miss Hawtry,
+who had been so busy in her own mind with her own schemes that she had
+no time to listen to Miss Adair's, picked up her gloves from beside her
+final coffee-cup, and pulled the fine-meshed veil down over her
+beautiful, though slightly snubbed, nose as a signal for a separation of
+the group of feasters.
+
+"May I motor you to your hotel, Miss Adair?" she asked very sweetly. Of
+course Patricia did not know that she had got in her invitation at the
+first signal of the feasters' disintegration, which she herself had
+given, for the purpose of forestalling a similar invitation from Mr.
+Farraday, whose Surreness she knew must be moored somewhere near. "Where
+are you stopping?" she asked with very little interest, and received an
+answer that almost upset her equanimity.
+
+"I'm staying at the Young Women's Christian Association," calmly
+announced the author of "The Purple Slipper," with no sense of
+embarrassment in either voice or manner. "Thank you for offering to take
+me there, but Mr. Farraday is going to take Miss Lindsey and me to buy a
+hat at a place which Miss Lindsey knows of. She is going to buy one,
+too, now that she is going to play in our play."
+
+"The Y. W. C. A.! Great guns!" muttered Mr. Vandeford under his breath,
+while the Violet leaned back in her chair and fanned herself.
+
+Then very suddenly Mr. Vandeford sat up and looked at Miss Mildred
+Lindsey keenly for half a second.
+
+"We'll have to go back to the office to get that check for Miss Lindsey
+before we go hat-hunting," announced good Dennis, with a calmness that
+made Mr. Vandeford suspect that he had met the fact of the eminent
+author's abiding-place before and had got used to it. "You and Miss
+Hawtry going over to the office, Van, or will you come with us, if she
+has other folderols to follow in a different direction?"
+
+"I am to see Adelaide about my costumes for 'The Purple Slipper' at
+two-twenty, so must forego the pleasure of--of hat-hunting this
+afternoon," Violet murmured faintly. "But I know Mr. Vandeford will
+adore going with you." Miss Hawtry felt that safety lay in numbers, and
+she preferred to leave the unsophistication of Miss Adair with both Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford and Mr. Dennis Farraday than with either of them
+alone.
+
+"I wish I could get out after the hat, but you people must remember that
+I am putting on 'The Purple Slipper,' and I have to be about Miss
+Adair's business while old Denny buzzes about hat roses, free and equal
+with her," answered Mr. Vandeford. His envy, apparent in his voice, of
+the care-free state of Mr. Farraday was very real, though none of the
+others could guess its meaning. "I'll see all of you later. By!" and
+with a sign to the head waiter, which tied tight Mr. Farraday's
+purse-strings, Mr. Vandeford left them while the going was good. So
+determined was his exit that Miss Hawtry could not keep him back for the
+finish of the fight.
+
+And Mr. Vandeford was in a mortal hurry. He had much to do and undo. He
+arrived at his office, three squares away, slightly out of breath.
+
+"Did you see her, Pops?" he demanded of Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"I did, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and here is a carbon of the letter I sent
+her, not with any encouragement to come to New York at all," and in
+self-defense he handed out to Mr. Vandeford a copy of the letter Roger
+had delivered to Patricia among her roses and young onions and
+string-beans.
+
+"Take it away," commanded Mr. Vandeford, seating himself at his desk and
+wildly shunting papers and letters about.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford, sir, I am sorry for that young lady and I ask you to
+have a heart," Mr. Meyers ventured to say to his chief with a boldness
+which he himself could not understand, but with which Mr. Vandeford was
+strangely patient. He ended with, "It will be a nobleness for you to not
+produce a cold show for her, but pay a small damage sum for such a
+beautiful lady and call it all off."
+
+"My God, Pops, I'd give half the 'Rosie Posie' to be able to do it! But
+Denny and Violet and that girl they engaged for support have already
+filled her full of success dope about the play, and if I call it off
+arbitrarily, where shall I stand with her?" Ignorance of the
+completeness of his own capitulation to the faith and tears in the
+sea-gray eyes, and the genuine, grown-on-the-spot blush from Adairville,
+Kentucky, showed in the consternation with which he asked the question
+of his henchman.
+
+"'Stand with her'!" repeated Mr. Meyers, with a consternation that
+matched his chief's, but was of different origin. "You had no such fear
+when you called off from rehearsals in the second week the comedy of Mr.
+Hinkle, and a fourth of the damages paid to him will to her be--"
+
+"Get to work under your hat, Pops, get to work! The 'Purple Slipper' has
+got to go on Broadway and go big. I followed that purple hunch for pure
+cussedness against Violet, and now watch it lead me by the nose. You
+get Gerald Height on the wire as soon as you can, while I talk to
+Rooney."
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is not a Hawtry play, and--"
+
+"Get busy, get busy, Pops! Put a copy of that manuscript on my desk
+where I can lay hands on it the minute I get a chance. Get everything
+going for a week later than I first called the show and--"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. Dennis Farraday, as he burst into the outer
+office, ushering as a wedge before him Miss Patricia Adair and Miss
+Mildred Lindsey. "Got that hat-check, Pops? Money, I mean, for Miss
+Lindsey, not a pasteboard for your own lid from some hotel."
+
+For a minute Mr. Vandeford lost himself in the depths of the worshiping,
+gray eyes that seemed to have been lifted to his for all eternity in
+that terrible faith and gratitude. Then he went into action as captain
+of the ship which was to come into the port of Adairville, Kentucky,
+with all sails set, loaded or bearing his dead body.
+
+"You and Miss Adair extract money from Pops with a can-opener while I
+discuss a few details with Miss Lindsey, in the office," he commanded
+coolly, ushered Miss Lindsey into the sanctum and softly closed the
+door.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford," Miss Lindsey began rapidly, "I knew it wasn't fair to
+make any definite arrangements with Mr. Farraday, and of course I will
+take whatever salary you--"
+
+"Where do you live, Miss Lindsey?" Mr. Vandeford interrupted to ask with
+a totally unwarranted interest on the part of a manager in the affairs
+of an actor he has engaged. Miss Lindsey, for the second time that day,
+underpainted her own cheeks and laughed as she answered:
+
+"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me, but I also live at the
+Y. W. C. A., though I give Mrs. Parkham's as my address for letters and
+telephone calls. It's cheap and--and I have done dining-room work there
+for a month, waiting--waiting for--for a part in a play."
+
+"Great guns, how that hunch works!" exclaimed the well-known producer,
+as he sank into his chair from positive weakness. "You take in this
+situation, don't you?" he demanded with a quick recovery.
+
+"I think I do," answered Miss Lindsey. Then she lifted her big black
+eyes, in which shone the psychic hunger, though that of the body had
+been appeased. "I've got to make good, Mr. Vandeford, and I'll do
+anything you want me to. I've got every right--to live at the Y. W. C.
+A., and a right to hand food to--to that child in there. You can trust
+me."
+
+"I believe I can," Mr. Vandeford answered, after looking at her keenly
+for a few seconds with the glance with which he had picked his winners
+or failures in the human comedy for many experienced years. "Stop your
+dining-room work at the nunnery and see that she has a good time, just
+you and she together. I'll send you matinée tickets to shows I want her
+to see, and Mr. Farraday and I'll look after the other amusement. I want
+her to meet only the people I introduce her to, and the Y. W. C. A. is
+the best place to live in New York--for her. Understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Find out how much money she has."
+
+"I know now; she told me. She's got a ticket home, good until October
+first, and a hundred dollars to last until--until the royalties come in
+from the play. Those royalties have got to come in, too, or her
+grandfather--" Miss Lindsey's voice was positively belligerent as she
+began to put the situation up to Mr. Vandeford, whose heart, as that of
+a theatrical manager, she felt, must be hard by tradition.
+
+"Yes, I know all about that. You get what money you want from Mr. Meyers
+out there, and fool her about what things cost as much as you can--until
+the royalties come in. Let me know when things don't run smoothly for
+the two of you. Of course, this is worth money to you and--"
+
+"I don't want money for--for--looking after her."
+
+"How much did Mr. Farraday offer you for your part?"
+
+"He doubled it when he saw that I was--was hungry, but I know a hundred
+and twenty-five is right and that's all I expect."
+
+"The one-fifty stands. If all goes well I'll see you get your chance on
+Broadway this winter. We understand each other now; don't we?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then get the hat quest going. I'm busy."
+
+"Five dollars is her outside limit."
+
+"Can't you juggle?"
+
+"I'll try, but she's--well, you know what a girl like that is."
+
+"Go to it!" With which command Mr. Vandeford led the way into the outer
+office. A brief aside put the situation he had just adjusted into the
+willing ear of his co-producer, who beamed with satisfaction at the
+idea of the joint nesting of these first two theatrical experiences he
+had captured at the outset of his quest for adventure in the white
+lights. He immediately began counting Miss Lindsey's advance into her
+hand, thus giving Mr. Vandeford a word alone with his eminent author,
+beside Mr. Adolph Meyers's big window.
+
+"Miss Lindsey tells me that she also lives at the Y. W. C. A.," he said
+with a curious paternal glow in his solar plexus that he had never
+experienced before.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! I know that is foolish of me, but I am a little
+frightened. I don't know anybody in New York except you and her
+and--I've never been in a big city before, and only in Louisville a few
+times with my aunt. I'll enjoy it if she will take me places and bring
+me back and forth to rehearsals," and the gray eyes beamed with relief
+and anticipation of being led forth from the Y. W. C. A. into the gay
+world by a competent guide. "Can we go to some of the _thè dansants_ in
+the afternoon, and maybe to the Metropolitan and the Aquarium?"
+
+"Yes, all those places and more," assented Mr. Vandeford, with a
+suppressed smile at the diversity of amusements his charge had planned
+in her sallies from the Y. W. C. A. "You see, it is both the duty and
+the pleasure of a producer of a play to see that his author has a good
+time while in the city." It was a surprise to Mr. Vandeford to find
+himself thus stating the case inversely.
+
+"Oh, but I mean to work hard to help with 'The Purple Slipper,' so I'll
+be too tired to bother you much to take me places. And I know how hard
+you work, so don't have me on your mind, will you, please, sir?" The
+lifted curl of the black lashes and the reverential note in the soft,
+slurring, Blue-grass voice almost upset the staid deference with which
+Mr. Vandeford was conversing with the author of his new Hawtry play.
+
+"Oh, play producing isn't so hard on the producer and the author, so
+we'll have lots of time to frolic," he hastened to assure her, though an
+uneasy little pang shot into his heart as he thought of just what befell
+the average author at the rehearsals of his or her play, and he took an
+additional vow of protection. "Shall I come to take you to dinner and to
+a show to-night?"
+
+"Oh, I'd love it," she answered, and again the color came up under the
+gray eyes. "It would be wonderful to have you show me Broadway the first
+time. I could never forget that."
+
+Then a thought delivered a blow that laid the producer of "The Purple
+Slipper" low. The afternoon was half gone, and there were dozens of
+wires that he must manipulate since he had had a change of--heart,
+concerning "The Purple Slipper," and dinner-time and evening were the
+only hours that some of the most important could be found.
+
+"Oh, but I can't ask you to do that," he exclaimed, and for almost the
+first time since the day of his graduation he felt color rise up under
+his own tanned cheeks. "I have to see the stage director and a lot more
+people about some things connected with your play. Still, I can't bear
+to have anybody else get that first night on Broadway away from me. I
+think it is due me." Being herself entirely sincere, Patricia recognized
+the utter sincerity of the distress in the voice of her producer where
+any other woman would have been doubtful of the ready excuse coming
+immediately after the invitation.
+
+"Then I'll just go to bed early and rest up from the trip, so that I can
+go with you whenever you get the time to take me. You are working for us
+both about the play, and if you had rather I waited for you, that is
+only fair," Miss Adair hastened to assure him with a sincerity equal to
+his own.
+
+"You are one good sport," was the reply that he made her straight from
+the shoulder, for the thought of a perfectly beautiful girl going to bed
+in the Y. W. C. A. and covering up her head and ears from the bright
+lights of her first night in old Manhattan just to give a strange and
+reverenced man the pleasure of introducing her to the old city made a
+profound impression upon him. "To-morrow night we'll wake up things on
+Broadway. I'll telephone you in the morning to let you know how the play
+is going and to see if there is anything I can do for you. Now you must
+all go and let me get busy."
+
+"Yes, this is just about the hour that hats begin to bite well,"
+assented Mr. Farraday, as he removed the girls down to his car with no
+thought or question as to whether his services would be needed in the
+enterprise in which he had embarked with Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Now for it, Pops!" said Mr. Vandeford as the door closed behind his
+co-workers in the production of "The Purple Slipper," whose work at that
+moment was to play at a distance from his labor. "I'm going to read that
+play, and nothing short of something that will injure its prospects if
+neglected by me must disturb me. When I'm done I'll make plans with you.
+It will take me several hours, and you stand by every second of the
+time. Get me?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, and he shut his
+door into the outer office just as Mr. Vandeford closed his own with a
+bang.
+
+Then for three hours or more, while the sun sank behind the Palisades
+and the white lights flashed up from Broadway beneath his window like
+bits of futile challenges to the dying light of day, Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford went through the supreme agony of a long life on Broadway, and
+was paid in full for every double-cross he had administered to a
+confrère. He read "The Purple Slipper" and groaned aloud from page to
+page. He began its perusal sitting erect in his chair, and he ended it
+hunched over its pages spread on his desk with his head in his hands,
+his fingers desperately clutching his shock of gray-sprinkled hair. Then
+in a complete collapse he flung himself back in his chair, elevated his
+feet to the edge of the desk, and began literally to devour the smoke of
+a small black cigar. For half an hour he sat motionless, as was his
+habit when fighting all preliminary battles, and his eyes seemed to be
+seeing the big old monster city open its thousand gleaming eyes and
+change its roar of the day to an incessant purr of a night-stalking
+beast, but in reality he was seeing and hearing a month into the future,
+and the spectacle thus pre-visioned was the first night of "The Purple
+Slipper" on Broadway. Then very suddenly he came back into his conscious
+self and went into action. He rang the buzzer for Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Pops, get Grant Howard on the wire and ask him to come around here as
+quick as he can make it. If he talks straight wait an hour for him, if
+he's thick-tongued go after him yourself. Get him! Now put me on the
+wire with Rooney if you can find him, and make appointments with
+Lindenberg for scenery at eleven in the morning. Ask Corbett to send an
+artist to talk costumes for a period play at eleven-thirty, and have
+Gerald Height here at twelve sharp. Don't forget to engage that
+good-looking youngster--Leigh, I think is the name--even if you have to
+give him a hundred advance. That's all for the present. Get Rooney for
+me." Mr. Vandeford turned to his desk and began making rapid notes on a
+pad with a huge, black, press pencil. For five minutes he spread his
+thoughts upon the paper in great smudges; then his telephone rang, and
+he took up the receiver:
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Mr. Vandeford speaking. Hello, Billy!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That new Hawtry play is beginning to promise something. I'm delaying it
+a week, and I want you to come into it with your sleeves rolled up. We
+may make a sure-fire hit of it."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, no, I'll keep right on getting 'The Rosie Posie Girl' in shape, and
+shunt Hawtry into it as soon as she cinches the public in this play--or
+fails."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That was just what I was going to hand you--you get four hundred a week
+for this show, but you'll have to go in and earn it. It's a departure,
+and you may not like it. You'll have to hammer it a lot, but I'm not
+signing a single 'Rosie Posie' contract until I see this in shape."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I mean it. A stage manager has to take my stuff all hot even if he
+thinks some of it is cold. Get me?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That's good. I'll give you the completed manuscript Saturday so you can
+pound and set it for Monday next."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That's good. By!"
+
+With which short, but sure, wire-pulling Mr. Vandeford opened his
+campaign to double-cross his own original plans. He had hardly stopped
+fixing Mr. William Rooney when Pops looked in upon him and announced Mr.
+Grant Howard, the eminent playwright.
+
+"Hello, Grant," was Mr. Vandeford's short and unenthusiastic greeting to
+the small, black-haired person with weak, pink-rimmed, blue eyes, who
+sauntered into the sanctum and dropped sadly into a chair with his back
+to the light. A cigarette hung from the left corner of his upper lip,
+and his hands trembled. "Been hitting 'em up?"
+
+"Yes," answered the playwright, laconically.
+
+"Broke?"
+
+"Pretty bad."
+
+"Want to doctor a play for Hawtry for me by Friday next for a thousand
+dollars cash?"
+
+"Cash now?"
+
+"Cash Friday."
+
+"Would have to lock myself up in my apartment to do it; but Mazie's been
+crying for gold-uns for a week."
+
+"Send Mazie to me, and I'll fix that, and hand you the thousand on
+Friday. Here, take this manuscript over in my other office and be ready
+to talk it over with me by ten o'clock. I'll see Mazie in the meantime."
+Mr. Vandeford placed the precious "Purple Slipper" in the hands of a man
+who at that very moment had two successful plays running on Broadway,
+his interest in both of which he had sold out for a mess of pottage to
+be consumed in the company of Miss Mazie Villines of the "Big Show."
+
+"Dolph had better order me up a little cold wine to start on," said Mr.
+Howard, as he rose languidly to incarcerate himself at the bidding of
+Mr. Vandeford. The same scene had been enacted between the two bright
+lights of American drama several times before with very good results.
+Mr. Howard's brain was of that peculiar caliber which does not originate
+an idea, but which inserts a solid bone construction as well as keen
+little sparklets into the fabric of another's labor, and makes the whole
+translucent where before it may have been opaque. On Broadway he was
+called a play doctor, and Mr. Vandeford was not the first manager who
+had shut him up with quarts of refreshment to tinker on the play of many
+a literary, dramatic, bright light.
+
+"Dolph will give you scotch and soda to your limit, no further,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, without graciousness. "I'll be here waiting for
+your talk-over at ten-thirty o'clock."
+
+"All right. Have Mazie come for me after her show?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+With which the eminent playwright betook himself to a small private
+office which opened into the lair of Mr. Adolph Meyers. After he had
+entered that retreat Mr. Meyers softly rose from his typing machine and
+as softly locked him in. Then he proceeded to hunt for Miss Mazie
+Villines until he got her into conversational connection with Mr.
+Vandeford. They conversed in these words with great cordiality:
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Want to earn a nice little two hundred for keeping Grant Howard working
+at doctoring a play by next Friday for me?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I'm giving him a thousand if it's delivered Friday."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Two hundred to you."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Not three!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"There's Claire Furniss. Grant had her at supper last night at Rector's.
+She's a beauty, you know."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Two fifty."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Goes!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Good! Come get him here at my office at eleven-fifteen. Get a taxi by
+the hour at your stage-door--on me--and come by for him."
+
+. . . . . .
+
+"Good girl! By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"What a life!" Mr. Vandeford muttered to himself, then rang his buzzer
+for Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Pops, it's eight o'clock. Go get us a couple of slabs of pie at the
+automat, and then I'll go over to see Breit at the booking office."
+
+"Yes, sir, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Meyers acquiesced, and departed in search
+of provender for the lion and himself. Left to himself, Mr. Vandeford
+fell into another trance, from which he was dragged by another tinkle of
+his telephone.
+
+"There'll be a wireless to my grave," he muttered as he took down the
+receiver and snapped into it:
+
+"This is Mr. Vandeford talking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, Miss Adair. Anything the matter?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Speak a little closer into the phone. Miss Hawtry has asked you to
+supper to-night? Mr. Farraday? And myself?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Did she say I was to come for you?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Do you know, I feel like a brute, but I'm going to tell you to go to
+bed as per promise. I've got two big guns from Broadway putting licks on
+the production of 'The Purple Slipper' until the small hours to-night,
+right here in the office. I'll tell Miss Hawtry about it, and you
+can--go to bed."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, yes, she'll understand. It's her play too, you see."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, you can't help me to-night, thank you just the same. How's Miss
+Lindsey? Would you like me to send my car to take you girls for a little
+spin in the park to cool off before you go to bed?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Her hair's wet? And so is yours? I didn't know it was raining."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, a mutual shampoo? Bless you both!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, you don't interrupt me when you call me. You are to call me any
+time you are willing to do it, if it is every five minutes."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, I mean it."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Very well then--good-night and good dreams."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Can you beat it?" Mr. Vandeford smiled to himself as he hung up the
+receiver. "Those two peachy girls washing each other's hair in the Y. W.
+C. A., within ten blocks of the 'Follies' is to laugh--or cry. Good
+little Lindsey! I wager she could have got 'em both forty-seven-eleven
+dates." Then a thought delivered a blow just above his belt in the
+region of his heart. "So it's Violet's game to use her as a decoy-duck
+for Denny?" he questioned himself, then gave his own answer in a soft
+voice under his breath. "Damn her!"
+
+Furthermore he did not communicate with Miss Hawtry to give her Miss
+Adair's answer to her invitation. He answered it in person, but only
+after much had happened in the three hours intervening.
+
+The hours from eight to nearly ten Mr. Vandeford spent in slowly
+munching the refreshment retrieved from the automat by Mr. Adolph Meyers
+and thinking out loud to that dignitary who took down his thoughts on
+paper in cabalistic signs of shorthand. They were all notes of what
+could and must be done in the next few days in the fight for the good
+fate of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I want to see that fellow Reid about that new lighting he provided for
+the new Sauls show in May. I liked it in some ways and--" Mr. Vandeford
+was saying when a banging on the door of the private office in which was
+incarcerated the eminent playwright interrupted him.
+
+"Did you give him the right amount of booze, Pops?" Mr. Vandeford asked.
+
+"Entirely right," answered Mr. Meyers, with his pencil still poised over
+his pad. The knocking continued.
+
+"See what he wants, Pops, and give him a little more if you have to,"
+decided Mr. Vandeford, as he lit a new cigar and turned to the whirlpool
+of his desk while he waited for Mr. Meyers's return.
+
+"Say, do you expect me to cast a Sunday School charade into a play in
+six days, Vandeford?" was the storm of words hurled at him as the
+released and infuriated doctor of plays hurled himself and his sheaf of
+manuscript into the door ahead of Mr. Meyers.
+
+"Is that what you think of it?" calmly questioned Mr. Vandeford, as he
+swung around in his chair. "Sit down and tell me what you intend to do
+for it."
+
+"I'm going to rewrite the whole blamed mess for fifteen hundred dollars,
+that's what I'm going to do," announced Mr. Howard with both
+belligerence and excitement in his voice and in the flash of his sick
+little eyes.
+
+"Is it as good--or as bad--as all that--money?" questioned Mr.
+Vandeford. "You'll have to show me," he added calmly, though in the
+vitals of his heart he was relieved that Howard still spoke of "The
+Purple Slipper" as a carcass on which to operate.
+
+"It's got a perfectly ripping, basic, sex-comedy idea that climaxes the
+third act; the rest is piffle."
+
+"I thought some of the character drawing, and one or two of the
+sentimental bits were--actable," Mr. Vandeford ventured, determined to
+save as much of the hair and hide of Miss Adair's child as possible,
+enough at least to help her to recognize and claim it later.
+
+"Oh, we can leave enough bits to anchor the author's name, if that is
+what you mean," the playwright admitted impatiently. "How about fifteen
+hundred? I won't do it for less."
+
+"Goes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest ease with which he had
+ever dispensed five hundred dollars in all his life. "Now shoot me your
+layout of the whole thing before Mazie gets here to take you and lock
+you up."
+
+"I'm going to take that dinner scene where the wife holds her husband's
+enemies and her lover at bay to see if he gets back home on a
+sporting-chance bet with lover, and write Hawtry both back and front of
+it; write her in as the virago she is and give her a chance to act
+herself for once."
+
+"Good idea," admitted Mr. Vandeford. "But you'll have a hard time
+writing a gutter girl into a grand dame, won't you?"
+
+"Women are all alike, and the worst viragos are the grand dames. It
+takes a gutter girl to play one let loose, as they do only on rare
+occasions. I've got 'em in my own family. That's the reason I'm a black
+sheep turned out. Got a sister that's worse than me, only respectable
+and fashionable. See?"
+
+"Yes, I see," again admitted Mr. Vandeford. "You'll keep all the
+atmosphere and minor stabs in, you say?"
+
+"Sure. They are pretty good staggers, some of the minor stuff. Lots of
+it is good talk--only wandering. That woman may write something some day
+if she breaks loose and goes to the devil for a while."
+
+"She won't," said Mr. Vandeford, positively.
+
+"Never can tell," answered Mr. Howard, with indifference. "What did
+Mazie say?"
+
+"She's due here for you now," answered Mr. Vandeford, looking at his
+watch.
+
+"Great girl, Mazie. Cooks me dandy rice and runny eggs, and sits on the
+neck of every bottle in New York while I dig. Couldn't do without her.
+Say, tell her you are just giving me five hundred, will you?"
+
+"She knows it's a thousand," answered Mr. Vandeford, truthfully. "But
+I'll keep the extra five hundred you are extracting dark for you."
+
+"That's good, and I'll tell her that I haven't got any--"
+
+"Tell her that you haven't got any money, as usual," were the words
+which Mr. Howard's fair lion-tamer used to finish his sentence of appeal
+to Mr. Vandeford for his co-operation in fraud. She had entered past Mr.
+Meyers with his full approval, for he felt a great relief at the sight
+of her and her guardianship.
+
+"How's Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he rose and, with all the
+ceremony he would have used for a grand duchess--or Miss Patricia
+Adair--offered a chair to the pert little person with her funny,
+good-humored, rather pretty face and her very smart clothes.
+
+"Kicking along, Mr. Vandeford, thank you," was the answer. "Gee, but I
+did kick the limit to-night, that's sure. I put some shady shines over
+what Grant wrote into a let-down in my part for me last night in great
+shape. They et it up, darling." Her naughty face beamed on Howard.
+"Hawtry was in a box, left. Had a gink in soup to fish with her that
+looked like real money. Have you rented her out?"
+
+"You folks get along and stop that taxi meter you've got running on me,"
+Mr. Vandeford said, answering the sally with a laugh; but it surprised
+him that there was a cold space in his vitals at the insult that the
+little trollop handed him with such comradery, guiltless of any
+knowledge that it was an insult.
+
+"What was that about touching pitch?" he asked himself as he walked
+rapidly up four blocks to the theater where Mazie had told him he would
+find the Violet with her prey. He was just in time to meet them in the
+lobby. Denny was in the gorgeousness of his "soup to fish," Mazie's and
+her world's term for evening attire, and the Violet in every way matched
+his good looks.
+
+"Why, where is Mademoiselle Innocence?" asked Hawtry, with a little
+frown, as she perceived that Mr. Vandeford was alone and not in regalia.
+
+"Asleep at the Y. W. C. A.," he answered shortly.
+
+"Sure?" asked the Violet, with a little laugh for which he could have
+killed her.
+
+"Why, she promised Miss Hawtry to go to supper with us and see a
+midnight show," Mr. Farraday exclaimed, and there was disappointment in
+his voice as he looked at Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I couldn't get away from the office until just this minute, and I
+didn't think I could get away this soon. Miss Adair sent her apologies
+to you both, and I came over to bring them."
+
+"Evidently we are not to be trusted with the author, Mr. Farraday,"
+laughed Violet, with what good Dennis took as good nature and what Mr.
+Vandeford knew to be rage.
+
+"Well, bless the child and her beauty sleep, but don't let that kill our
+evening joy. Come along, Van, and we'll go some place sufficiently
+disreputable to admit a crumpled person like yourself if you wash your
+hands. We can have a good powwow over the play. I want to know what you
+have been doing while I was off the job chasing a hat for the author."
+And the big, stupid Jonathan linked his arm in that of his anxious and
+hovering David and drew him along towards the Surrenese, which stood
+across the street, at the same time guiding the steps of the Violet's
+satin slippers in that direction.
+
+While the three walked across the narrow street Mr. Vandeford made some
+rapid calculations and a decision in his mind. He saw plainly that he
+could not undertake to guard Mr. Dennis Farraday from the Violet and at
+the same time fend Miss Patricia Adair from her wiles. He'd have to
+choose between them, and in the twinkling of an eye he chose Patricia.
+It is said that there is a love between men "that passes the love of
+women," but nobody has ever witnessed it.
+
+"You people go on to your show--I'm all in," he capitulated as they
+stood beside Mr. Farraday's car; and the heart of the Violet rejoiced
+within her.
+
+"I'm sure Miss Adair is getting caught up on sleep so she can go with
+you to-morrow night. She's a perfect dear, and we'll put her play
+across," Hawtry cooed to him in her rich voice, and he knew that she
+felt she had struck his price and bought him off.
+
+"If Denny falls for her he'll fall far; but I can't help it. A girl's a
+girl, specially from the country," Mr. Vandeford said to himself, as he
+stood and watched them drive away into the white-lighted cañon of
+Broadway. Then he went home and to bed.
+
+A man may put out his night light, stretch himself between his sheets
+with the perfection of fatigue and still not sleep. There are various
+combinations of reasons that prevent his slumber. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+was still awake when Mr. Dennis Farraday let himself into his apartment
+with a key that had been presented to him five years before when Mr.
+Vandeford had installed his Lares and Penates in the tall building on
+Seventy-third Street, some of these Lares and Penates being Mr.
+Farraday's extra linen and clothes.
+
+"That you, Denny?" Mr. Vandeford asked as he switched on his light and
+took a hurried glance at a clock on his mantel which registered the hour
+of 2 A. M.
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Farraday, as he came to the door of Mr. Vandeford's
+sleeping apartment. "A thought suddenly struck me, and I stopped in to
+explode it at you and sleep here."
+
+"Fire away!"
+
+"My mater is coming to town the first of the week to have her glasses
+changed, and I'm going to telephone out to her to-morrow and ask her to
+write Miss Adair to have dinner with us informally at the town house
+while she is here. You know mater's mother was from old Kentucky, and
+she'll adore the child. Think that's good thinking?"
+
+"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a glow under his ribs about which
+he said nothing. Men are vastly inarticulate, but they have various
+means of communication, and Mr. Vandeford now felt that in his care of
+his author Mr. Dennis Farraday would understand.
+
+"You know I am on new ground, old chap, but--but how about asking Miss
+Lindsey, too?" Mr. Farraday questioned, with great diffidence.
+
+"Fine!" agreed Mr. Vandeford, with accelerated glow under his ribs that
+Miss Lindsey had been proposed when Miss Hawtry might have been invited.
+"Get to bed, can't you, you Indian, you? Night!"
+
+"Good-night!" answered Mr. Farraday, as he departed to his own room.
+
+And still Mr. Vandeford did not sleep.
+
+Flat upon his back he lay and faced, analyzed, and card-indexed his
+situation and himself.
+
+"Five years of myself given to that gutter girl and I never even cared;
+let her annex me for purposes of parade and publicity, and thought it
+funny sport. Wasted? Something to be deducted for pleasure in artistic
+success of "Dear Geraldine," but what will it cost me if I have to stand
+by and see her make old Denny hate himself as I do myself, or worse?
+She'll not stop short with him, and how do I know what he'll do? The
+money don't matter, but the--cleanliness does. If I go in to save him,
+she gave me notice to-night that she would go for that gray-eyed girl.
+What can she do to her? First, kill her play, no matter what I do to
+build up a success for the kiddie to cancel that mortgage. Second: do
+something, say something that will kill that look in those gray eyes
+when they lift to me. Never! Take Denny, Violet, and the Lord help him;
+I can't. You've bought me. Washing her hair in the Y. W. C. A.! God
+bless that institution and--"
+
+At last Mr. Godfrey Vandeford slept.
+
+After his ten o'clock awakening Mr. Vandeford displayed a marked
+eccentricity in his demeanor. That morning was unlike any morning he had
+ever experienced, and his conduct surprised himself. A daybreak shower
+had fallen on the hot and baked city, and it was as fresh as a suburb.
+Arrayed in the coolest of white silk, linen, and suede, Mr. Vandeford
+had his chauffeur drive him not to the whirling office but to the most
+sophisticated Fifth Avenue florist, where he purchased the most
+unsophisticated bunch of flowers at the highest price to be obtained in
+New York.
+
+"The Young Women's Christian Association," he commanded the obsequious
+young Valentine who drove the big Chambers. Mr. Vandeford was never
+sufficiently unoccupied of mind to pilot a car in and out of New York
+traffic. For half a second the young Frenchman hesitated.
+
+"I don't know where it is--Find out," commanded Mr. Vandeford, and again
+he had the foreign experience of feeling the blood burn the under side
+of the tan on his cheeks.
+
+Valentine consulted the tall man in uniform at the door of the flower
+shop, and this menial consulted some one within, who must have consulted
+a directory, judging from the time it took to obtain the correct
+address. With his eyes straight in front of him, as a chauffeur's eyes
+should always be, he then drove rapidly down the avenue.
+
+And on that beautiful morning Mr. Vandeford's luck was with him.
+Valentine whirled expertly up to the curb in front of the large,
+hospitable building which had emblazoned over its door the impressive Y.
+W. C. A. letters, letters that send a beacon all over the known world as
+they did to Mr. Vandeford in little and unimportant New York. Mr.
+Vandeford got out of the car with hurried grace in his long limbs and,
+with actual trepidation, went in through the door, into a world he had
+never even thought of before. He had entered many an African lion jungle
+with less fear. He glanced with awe at the natty young woman in white
+linen who presided at the desk, and wanted intensely to put his flowers
+behind him and back out of the door rather than approach and ask for the
+lady to whom he wished to donate them. In fact, he might have
+accomplished such a retreat if again luck had not come his way.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Vandeford, how glad I am that you got here before we went out
+to the museum," exclaimed a fluty, slurring young voice just behind him,
+and he found that the gray eyes with the black lashes were just as
+unusual as he had decided they could not possibly be in the interval
+that had elapsed since he had looked into them. "Oh, how lovely!"
+
+The last exclamation was made over the edge of the bouquet, which he had
+tendered Miss Adair as silently as a school-boy hands out his first
+bunch of buttercups to the lady for whom he has picked them.
+
+"Did you come for me to go to help work on the play?" was the energetic
+question that brought him out of his trance.
+
+"No, not right now," he answered haltingly, and when he realized how
+many times he would have to put her off with words to that same effect,
+his trance became a panic.
+
+"When are you going to need me?" Miss Adair asked him with a direct and
+business-like look right to his eyes. "I am ready for work now."
+
+"Now what'll I do?" he demanded of himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+"I thought of a lot of new things for my characters to say, while I was
+coming up from Kentucky on the train, and I want to put them in." Miss
+Adair further tortured Vandeford.
+
+"This morning I am going to talk to the electrician and the costumer and
+the scene painter." Mr. Vandeford answered by telling her the truth,
+because, with her very beautiful and candid eyes beaming into his,
+showing both interest and consideration, he had not the power to make up
+any kind of lie to put her off the trail of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I am so glad that I got up early and am ready to go with you! I can
+tell them about what my great-grandmother really wore when it all
+happened, and it will be such a help to them!" Miss Adair exclaimed
+with great business acumen shining in her eyes. Mr. Vandeford gave up
+the fight, piloted her into his car, and gave the command, "Office!" to
+the very decorous, but very much interested Valentine.
+
+As they were skimming back up the avenue and about to turn into
+Forty-second Street, an inspiration came to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Didn't you keep some of those costumes of the period of the play hid
+away in an old brass-nailed leather trunk in your garret?" he asked Miss
+Adair, with desperate eagerness shining in his eyes.
+
+"Yes," Miss Adair answered readily. Then she hesitated, and the genuine
+blush rivaled the one in the northeast corner of the bouquet at the
+waist of the very chic, blue-silk suit. "That is, I did have some--"
+
+"Have they been destroyed?" questioned Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest
+anxiety.
+
+"No, not exactly," answered Miss Adair, with a distressed tremor at the
+corner of her curved mouth that rivaled a rose of a deeper hue in the
+southwest corner of the bouquet.
+
+"I see," answered Mr. Vandeford, with great relief. "You are not just
+sure where they are. That's great! You can have a talk with Mr. Corbett,
+who is to design the costumes, and then hop right back home in a day or
+two, as soon as you are rested and we've had a little bat on Broadway,
+and find them for him to use in his designs. The management will pay all
+the expenses and you can--can--"
+
+Mr. Vandeford cast around in his mind for some other business in
+connection with "The Purple Slipper" that would keep the author thereof
+busy and contented in Adairville, Kentucky, out of the clutches of
+Violet and out of the way of his stage director until it all was running
+smoothly.
+
+"How about your getting a lot of photographs of the house in which it
+all happened?" he went on. Vaguely he felt photography must be a slow
+process in Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+Also, in his heart he was forced to acknowledge that his inspiration for
+getting the author out of the way of her own play while it was being
+murdered was not entirely original. Tradition had told him, whether
+truly or not, that at a certain crucial moment in the butchering and
+rehearsal of "The Great Divide" the poet-author, Moody, had been sent
+West to hunt a genuine war costume for a great Indian war-chief, his
+favorite written character, and on his return with the trophy had found
+the Indian cut entirely and forever from the play.
+
+"Those dresses would be the greatest help you could give us now," he
+urged with an inward chuckle at the thought of the trick on the great
+poet, which froze in his heart as he observed two tears balanced on the
+black lashes of the lovely sea-gray eyes lowered away from his.
+
+"What's the matter?" he gasped, in desperate fear that the Moody Indian
+story had penetrated to the wilds of Adairville, Kentucky. "You'd only
+be gone a few days, and everything could wait until you came back. I
+wouldn't turn a wheel without you, and--" he committed himself deeper
+and deeper at every step.
+
+"I've had the dresses all made over, and this is one. I've hurt my play
+just because I wanted to look pretty in New York! I'm humiliated with
+myself. As if anybody cared how I look; and the play--" The soft little
+slurs stopped and the beautiful old-blue-silk-clad shoulder trembled
+slightly against his shoulder as a little ghost of a sob came to the
+surface and was suppressed while the home-made color faded from beneath
+two tears that fell from the black lashes.
+
+"Oh, please forgive me, child! It doesn't matter at all, and--"
+
+"You oughtn't to forgive me," the voice trembled on. "Miss Hawtry would
+have been wonderful in that dinner dress my grandmother wore, and
+I--I've had two made out of it! I can give them to her and tell her how
+to put them together again with--"
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind!" fairly snapped Mr. Vandeford. Then he
+broke the record in his own thinking processes and decided for the
+second time to tell the whole truth to this country girl with her
+mixture of hay-seeds and patrician airs. He directed Valentine to
+Central Park and made a clean breast of it. It is a pleasure to record
+that at the Moody Indian story Patricia laughed until two other tears
+ran down her cheeks, but this time they did not wring Mr. Vandeford's
+heart, for they coursed over the accustomed roses and were a great
+pleasure to him.
+
+"I'll go home if you want me to," the talented author of "The Purple
+Slipper" offered, with a small snap in her eyes, mingled with the
+accustomed veneration of Mr. Vandeford, her producer. "I don't want to
+be in anybody's way. I thought I had to come and spend all my money. I
+want to see the Metropolitan and the Aquarium and Brooklyn Bridge and
+Trinity Church, ... and ... a Midnight Frolic, because Mamie Lou
+Whitson, at home, is expecting me to go to one even if Miss Elvira said
+I ought not to. Can I see just one Frolic before I go home?"
+
+"If you go home now the whole 'Purple Slipper' will go into cold storage
+until you come back," Mr. Vandeford growled at her, and the effort it
+took not to hold on to her with bodily fingers was a great strain. "I
+told you the usual situation because I felt that you were clever enough
+to make the best of it and help the play a lot. No author ever has seen
+a play produced as he wrote it, and he has to stand seeing everybody
+take a whack at it, from the producer to the man who takes the tickets
+at the front door. I've got a good playwright shut up until Friday
+rewriting 'The Purple Slipper'; then I'm going to work at it myself and
+let Miss Hawtry write in all the things she wants to say, and cut out
+all the things she doesn't. After that, I'm going to turn it over to
+Bill Rooney, who was born in a barrel down on the wharf and educated in
+the gutter, but who is the best and highest-priced stage director in New
+York. He'll do innumerable things to it while he's 'setting it,' as he
+calls getting it ready for rehearsals. All the actors and actresses will
+be allowed at times to butcher and scalp their parts and everybody will
+stab. And if you are a plucky girl you'll sit still and see it done.
+There will come lots of times that everything you suggest, even very
+timidly, will be thrust down your throat; but if they are vital they
+will get under the hide of Bill and opening night you'll see that your
+pluck has put a lot into the whole thing and that the mutilated and
+dressed-up play is still your child. Will you trust me and sit in with
+me and help me make 'The Purple Slipper' go?"
+
+"I do! I will!" answered Miss Adair, with her head in the air and the
+Adairville roses flaunting themselves in her face. And as she spoke she
+offered him her slim, long-fingered, white little hand that his
+completely engulfed as, answering a signal, Valentine turned the car
+back toward Forty-second Street. "If I've got to have thorns stuck in me
+and then cut out I'm mighty glad you'll be there."
+
+"Yes, I'll be there," he answered her softly, as he released her hand at
+least two seconds sooner than he was really obliged to, though he
+himself could not have said why he did it. He felt like a grown person
+who frightens a child with a bear tale to make it cuddle to his own
+strength in the firelight.
+
+Then followed a day in the offices of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical
+Producer, which, up to that time, could not have been duplicated on
+Broadway and perhaps never will be, though the results may have the
+effect of--but that was all in the future of the theatrical business at
+that time.
+
+"Mr. Meyers," said Mr. Vandeford, as he ushered the author of "The
+Purple Slipper" into the outer offices, where he found Pops soothing and
+controlling about seven enraged experts in different lines of dramatic
+production, "Miss Adair will have the small office from now on to work
+in when she is not in consultation with me. Please take her in and see
+that she is made at home while I run through my mail. Yes, Mr. Corbett,
+I will be ready for you in a few minutes. Sorry to detain you, all of
+you," with which apology to the body of assembled experts Mr. Vandeford
+bowed, went into his sanctum, and firmly closed the door, just as Mr.
+Adolph Meyers bowed the author into her sanctum and as firmly closed her
+door. Mr. Gerald Height, who had been sitting looking indifferently out
+of Mr. Meyers' window, looked after the disappearing author as if a
+perfumed breeze had suddenly blown across his brow, and whistled softly.
+
+"Say, Pops, who, by thunder is--," he was questioning Mr. Meyers with
+extreme interest, when Mr. Vandeford's buzzer sounded and Mr. Meyers was
+forced to answer it before he could attend to Mr. Height's question.
+
+Mr. Meyers found Mr. Vandeford pale, but determined.
+
+"Pops," he said, and Mr. Meyers could have sworn that the voice of his
+beloved chief trembled, "I'm in the devil of a fix, and you have got to
+throw me a line to pull out; in fact, you'll have to cast in a drag-net
+if you want to land me."
+
+"If it was a submarine I would make a rescue of you, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir," the faithful henchman assured the panic-stricken producer.
+
+"She's worse than any submarine ever floated, and I'm rammed--in a
+corner, Pops. To make a story that is going to be long in acting, short
+in telling, I've had to put Miss Adair on to what is usually handed out
+to the authors of plays, and then to stop her wails, offered to let her
+sit in and watch her play baby hacked up. Her office-hours here and at
+rehearsals will be from ten mornings to midnight, and what are you going
+to do about it?" Mr. Vandeford questioned Mr. Meyers with a kind of
+forlorn hope in his eyes, for Mr. Meyers had often seen him through the
+crooks of his trade.
+
+"I advise to make it straight to her, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and she will
+come out all right or otherwise go home. That young lady has the look of
+a horse on which I won seven hundred at the last Gravesend. Besides, we
+have not time for play-acting about that 'Purple Slipper.' It is a cold
+bird and we must be in a hurry about putting pep into it for a success."
+
+"Right-o, Pops! I'll ask her in here, and when I buzz send in Corbett.
+The poor kiddie!" With which lamentation over the fate he was about to
+mete out to Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford dismissed Mr. Meyers and opened
+the door which led from his sanctum into that which had been so recently
+assigned to the author of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+That eminent playwright was discovered in the height of fascination,
+looking down upon the uproar of Broadway.
+
+"I saw a taxicab run over a man and not kill him," she exclaimed with
+both horror and joy. "I started to call you, but it was all over in a
+second."
+
+"That's all right. I've seen that hundreds of times, even when they were
+killed." He reassured her about neglecting to share the excitement with
+him. "Are you ready to take up the matter of costumes with Corbett?"
+
+"Shall I have to tell him--about my making over--"
+
+"No; just listen to me handle him, and I'll tell you when to break in.
+I'll give you a lead. Please come into my office." And with coolness of
+manner, but trepidation of heart, he led her into his office and seated
+her in a chair beside his at the far side of the desk,--the very chair
+in which had sat Mr. Dennis Farraday on the day previous, when he had
+received his initiation into the world of theatricals. Then he buzzed
+his signal to Mr. Meyers.
+
+Immediately Mr. Corbett entered.
+
+"Morning, Corbett.--Miss Adair, the author of the play I want to talk
+to you about.--Want to take on a costume play of early Kentucky?" Mr.
+Vandeford made no pause in which to allow Mr. Corbett to acknowledge his
+introduction to the author, and Mr. Corbett seemed to bear no resentment
+for the omission. His astonishment at meeting an author when the
+costuming of a play was being discussed was profound.
+
+"What date?" he inquired, looking carefully away from Miss Adair.
+
+"What date, Miss Adair?" asked Mr. Vandeford in exactly the same crisp
+tone in which he was conducting the negotiations with Mr. Corbett.
+
+"1806, I think. It was just before they began to wear--" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say with a delighted smile that entirely failed to make an
+impression on Mr. Corbett.
+
+"Good date for costuming," the artist interrupted the author to say,
+with the easy assurance of a person fully informed. "Styles were
+distinctive. I dressed 'Lovers' Ends' for E. and K. in 1789, and the
+costumes kept the piffling play alive for two months. How many dolls and
+how many boots?"
+
+"How many men and how many ladies in the play, Miss Adair?" Mr.
+Vandeford questioned her with delight at getting a question to fling to
+her and also translating for her Mr. Corbett's query.
+
+"Twenty in all," answered Miss Adair. "There are eleven ladies with
+the--"
+
+"Split even," Mr. Corbett took the words out of her mouth. "Want sole
+leather or tissue paper, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair caught by psychic
+sympathy the fact that he was asking if the play was to be costumed as
+one intended to survive. Consequently her very soul hung on the answer
+Mr. Vandeford must make to Mr. Corbett's question.
+
+"To play about thirty, I should say," answered Mr. Vandeford after a two
+minutes' calculating.
+
+"Only a month?" gasped Miss Adair, then colored home-made pink in the
+height of embarrassment.
+
+"Weeks." Mr. Vandeford answered her gasp without looking at her, but
+taking the vow gallantly, considering that he felt Mazie Villines to be
+his sole dependence for a winning manuscript version of "The Purple
+Slipper."
+
+During this question and answer Mr. Corbett was also calculating.
+
+"About seven thousand if Adelaide makes the Hawtry layout," he finally
+announced.
+
+"Five hundred advance for the sketches, and a week's option," Mr.
+Vandeford offered calmly.
+
+"A thousand advance for models of costumes made up," answered Mr.
+Corbett, just as calmly and firmly. "Have to hunt in museum for
+materials to go by. Takes experts on fabrics."
+
+"I can give you pieces of silk and things that are cut from the costumes
+of that period." Miss Adair had learned, and she cut her remark into
+the conference with precision and decision.
+
+"Genuine?" questioned Mr. Corbett.
+
+"Worn by the characters about whom the play is written."
+
+"Then seven hundred and fifty for made-up models, Mr. Vandeford," Mr.
+Corbett offered.
+
+"The pieces will be large enough to make the models," Miss Adair said
+with a curt firmness that was a combination of that used by both Mr.
+Vandeford and Mr. Corbett and which both startled and delighted the
+former.
+
+"Six hundred for models, Corbett," he said with finality and with an
+inward chuckle.
+
+"Six-fifty, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Corbett answered with equal finality,
+and for the first time he stole a glance at the author.
+
+"Goes! When?"
+
+"Two weeks?"
+
+"Goes! Good-morning, Mr. Corbett!"
+
+Mr. Corbett's exit was immediate.
+
+"I'm glad Miss Elvira made me put all the pieces of my dresses in my
+trunk to patch with in case I tore anything. They saved us four hundred
+dollars, didn't they?" Miss Adair said to Mr. Vandeford with gratified
+business acumen shining in the sea-gray eyes. "I wasn't much in the way,
+was I?"
+
+"You were a great help, and that was the first time I ever succeeded in
+jewing Corbett," answered Mr. Vandeford with satisfactory enthusiasm.
+Something of relief over the guarding of his author showed in his voice,
+which second note, however, he sounded too soon as the next ten minutes
+proved to him. "Now we'll discuss the sets for the production with
+Lindenberg and then it'll be time for luncheon, and we'll go--"
+
+"Mr. Vandeford, sir, Mr. Height would like to be in next," Mr. Meyers
+interrupted his chief, just a second too soon, or rather just in time,
+for if Mr. Vandeford had settled Miss Adair's luncheon plans in that
+second the fate of "The Purple Slipper" might have been different.
+
+"Show him in, Pops, and have the rest come back at two-thirty," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded.
+
+Mr. Gerald Height entered.
+
+For five successive seasons on Broadway, with brief dazzling flights
+into the provincial towns of Chicago, Boston, Washington, and
+Philadelphia, Mr. Gerald Height had been the reigning beauty, and he
+well deserved it. He was both slender and broad, with the grace of a
+faun in young manhood, and with the deviltry of a satyr of more advanced
+age in his yellow-green eyes, which tilted under high black brows that
+were arched penciled bows across his forehead. His lips were full and
+red, but chiseled like a youth's on a Greek frieze and they were mobile
+and tender and hard by turns. His red-gold hair clung to his head in
+burnished waves, and this head was set upon his broad, strong shoulders
+as a flower is set on its parent plant, and his smile was a conquering
+triumph. He poured it all over Miss Adair as Mr. Vandeford introduced
+them, and took the chair opposite the producer and the author, with the
+light from the window fully revealing all of his charms.
+
+"New Hawtry play on, Height, by Miss Adair." Mr. Vandeford began the
+conversation with his usual directness, and somehow his voice was
+crisper than usual, for he seemed to get a shock from the radiance of
+the stage beauty before him that pushed him, with his white-tinged black
+hair, well forward into middle age.
+
+"Dolph was telling me, and I ran through a synopsis he had on the
+machine. Powder and furbelows!" As he spoke Mr. Height smiled at Miss
+Adair with appreciation of herself and got in return a smile of the same
+degree of appreciation of himself, both smiles not at all lost on the
+psychologically aging Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"That clause in your contract that lets you out of all costume plays is
+perfectly good, you know," Mr. Vandeford heard himself saying when he
+had intended to bluster that same clause aside if the favorite had tried
+to stand on it, because he well knew that to see Gerald Height in silk
+stockings and lace ruffles a quarter of a million women might be counted
+upon to pay two dollars per capita and so assure at least a fifteen per
+cent. certainty to the box-office receipts of "The Purple Slipper,"
+whose fate had mysteriously come in the last few hours to mean so much
+to him. "Mr. Meyers has a youngster that we can whip into lead, I think.
+Now thank me for letting you out, and run along."
+
+"Oh," ejaculated Miss Patricia Adair, and the little exclamation of
+dismay hit both men at once and made them both sit up straight in their
+chairs. Also they both looked for a long minute at Miss Adair, and both
+were aware of the other's scrutiny. Mr. Height broke the tension.
+
+"I might see how buckskins and powdered wig would go," he said, with a
+tentative glance across the table, which began with Mr. Vandeford and
+ended with Miss Adair.
+
+"I think you would be perfectly beautiful, and I hope--" Miss Adair
+paused, and Mr. Height was as competent as either Miss Hawtry or Miss
+Lindsey had been to judge of the home-made color under the gray eyes.
+Also he was as much, perhaps more, affected by it, though in the
+presence of Mr. Vandeford he was wise enough to dissemble his delight.
+
+"Want me to try, Mr. Vandeford?" he questioned with greater deference
+than he had ever shown a mere manager in the last five years of his
+triumphant career.
+
+"Of course, it would be a fifteen-per cent. drag if you are willing,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford with managerial delight and manly rage.
+
+"Can I have until to-morrow to decide?" asked Mr. Height. "You see, I
+haven't read the play or heard the layout," he added to the author of
+"The Purple Slipper," with deference in his rich voice that had thrilled
+its millions.
+
+"Could you make it this afternoon if Mr. Meyers goes into it with you?
+My other man has a big picture offered him at a good figure," Mr.
+Vandeford answered, with both fear and joy at the prospect of pressing
+the star into retreat.
+
+"Dolph has told me all he knows about it, which is nothing. He hasn't
+taken out any parts and seems to have lost the manuscript forever. I
+hope you kept a copy, Miss Adair." And again the two young things smiled
+at each other to Mr. Vandeford's devastation.
+
+"Why couldn't I tell Mr. Height about the play while you see the
+electrician and the other people, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair questioned,
+her candid gray eyes shining with such a sincere desire to be useful in
+the crisis that Mr. Vandeford could not suspect her of any adventurous
+motive. "We could go over in--into my office and you can call me any
+minute if you need me."
+
+"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Height. "Then I could let you know right away if
+I thought I could do the part justice, Mr. Vandeford."
+
+"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, as he motioned them into the inner
+office, which had been conferred upon the author of "The Purple
+Slipper," and rang his buzzer for Mr. Meyers.
+
+"Find Mr. Farraday and ask him to come around here immediately if he is
+anywhere near, or to come at four if he can't get here in ten minutes,"
+he commanded. "Heard from Mazie?"
+
+"Mr. Howard is in a good working soak, is her report, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir, and I have the wire that Mr. Farraday is on his way here," was the
+double answer Mr. Meyers returned to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Good! Give me my letters to sign," Mr. Vandeford answered.
+
+Mr. Meyers brought in a sheaf of letters, and Mr. Vandeford was in the
+act of setting pen to paper when the door of the inner office opened
+after a gentle knock and Miss Adair entered, followed by Mr. Height.
+
+Mr. Vandeford looked up quickly and found Miss Adair close beside his
+chair, looking down upon him with her beautiful reverence and confidence
+in him entirely unimpaired.
+
+"Mr. Height wants me to go and have luncheon with him and tell him about
+the play. He's hungry, and so am I. Can you spare me if I'm working
+while I'm eating? May I go?"
+
+Mr. Vandeford rose to his feet quickly, and a great Broadway star was in
+closer danger of descending head-first from a six-story window upon that
+thoroughfare than he ever knew. Then "The Purple Slipper" rose and
+demanded its chance of success with Gerald Height as "drag" and the
+tragedy was averted.
+
+"Run along, children, and don't spill your milk on your bibs," he
+answered them, with a dissembling smile that would have done credit to
+Mr. Height himself when upon the boards with Miss Hawtry. They departed
+in great spirits, and Mr. Vandeford noticed that Mr. Height had not
+been at all concerned as to how his manager's inner man would be served.
+
+Thereupon Mr. Vandeford propped his feet upon the desk, got out one of
+the most evil of the cigars he kept in a drawer of his desk for just
+such crises, and went into communion with himself for ten minutes. Upon
+that communion broke Mr. Dennis Farraday, who got the full force of it.
+
+"I came to pick up you and Miss Adair to go out in the park to luncheon.
+It's cooler there. Where is she?" were the words with which Mr.
+Vandeford's partner in the production of "The Purple Slipper" greeted
+him.
+
+"She has gone out to luncheon with a damned tango lizard," was the
+disturbed and disturbing answer his courtesy received.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, bristling.
+
+"She met Gerald Height a half-hour ago, here in this office, and then
+went out to luncheon with him," was Mr. Vandeford's answer to Mr.
+Farraday's bristling.
+
+"Without consulting you?"
+
+"No! I consented all right enough."
+
+"Why didn't you tell her if you didn't want her to go with him?"
+
+"See here, Denny, I want to ask you if anything in my past life makes
+you think that I am a proper old hen to have a downy little chicken
+thrust right under my wing for safe keeping, whether I hatched her or
+not?" Mr. Vandeford demanded, and his rage was so perfectly impersonal
+and perplexed that Mr. Farraday sat down to go into the matter to his
+rescue.
+
+"What do you mean, Van?" he asked in a calm voice and manner that were
+most grateful to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Just this: Here's a girl come up here, from a place where a girl is
+guarded like a pearl of great price, into the muck and excitement of the
+getting together of a Broadway production in which she is directly
+interested. I don't know what to do. If I spend my time hovering over
+her, her show will go cold and break her. She's poor. I told her as much
+of what she is in for as I dared and still she wants to stay and see it
+all through, demands to stay and be let in for the whole thing. What'll
+we do?"
+
+"Suppose she'd go with me up to visit the mater and be motored down to
+participate in--in expurgated moments?" asked Mr. Farraday, as he
+ruffled his hair into a huge plume on the top of his head.
+
+"She would not. She's got a taste of it and she'll thirst for more. And,
+for all that unsophistication, she is a clever kid. She'll get Height
+into a costume play before luncheon is over and that'll go a long way to
+cinch a hit for 'The Purple Slipper.' He's made a fad of not playing
+costume, and all the women in New York will flock to see him in velvet
+and lace. She bargained that fish Corbett out of four hundred dollars in
+the preliminary costume deal, and if anybody has to send her home it
+will have to be you. I can't do it."
+
+"Well, just gently warn her about Height and things of that kind, can't
+you?"
+
+"I cannot! Would you tell a woman who is walking a tight rope that the
+ground sixty feet below her is covered with broken champagne bottles?"
+
+"Then she's got to go home," decided Mr. Dennis Farraday, positively.
+
+"How'll you make her?"
+
+"You've got to do it. She's got awe of you planted six feet deep in her
+soul. Anybody could see that. You've got to send her."
+
+"Can't be done," growled Mr. Vandeford in desperation. "Wish I were
+married to six respectable women and then I could make 'em all chaperon
+her in turns, while I feed her fool play to the public."
+
+"You'd only have to strike out the syllable 'un' before 'married' by a
+little trip to the City Hall to have one mighty fine wife," Mr. Farraday
+said with a straight look into Mr. Vandeford's eyes, which was so deeply
+affectionate that it gave him the privilege of opening the door to any
+holy of holies.
+
+"Violet and I are all off, Denny, and it ought never to have been on,"
+was the straight-out answer he got to his venture, an answer that Miss
+Hawtry would have felt smoothed greatly the path of her present
+adventures in life.
+
+"Poor girl! I knew she was hurt somehow, but I thought--forgive me, old
+man." With a tenderness in his voice that both alarmed and puzzled Mr.
+Vandeford his big Jonathan closed the subject and snapped a lock on it.
+"Come over to the Astor with me for a cold bite."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+The cool, green-leafed Orangery at the Hotel Astor is the oasis in the
+desert days of rehearsal for all early fall plays, and beside its
+tinkling fountain and under its tinkling music can be found at luncheon
+all of the theatrical profession who are not around the corners at the
+equally cool, white-tiled Childs restaurants. Beside and around the
+green wicker tables careers of managers, artists, actors, playwrights,
+electricians, and scenic artists are made and unmade in the twinkling of
+some bright or heavy-lidded eye. Each and every feaster watches each and
+every other feaster with the quick, wary eye of a jungle being consuming
+its food before it is snatched from him or her; and gossip reigns over
+all.
+
+"Gee, look at the swell dame Gerald Height has got cornered over there!"
+exclaimed Mazie Villines, as she looked up from a frappéd melon, which a
+"heavy" moving picture man was "buying" for her consumption. "The way
+them society queens do fall fer him!"
+
+"Put your blinkers on, Mazie, put 'em on, and don't take a shy at Height
+over my knife and fork! Let him eat what he pays for and me the same,"
+growled the huge man. "I let you put up that drunk Howard for a week,
+and that's rope enough."
+
+"I'd like to feed him the green in his 'runny' eggs; it makes me sick to
+open for him," was the adored Mazie's way of speaking of her eminent
+playwright.
+
+"Well, get his wad first," was the heavy's advice.
+
+Just at this moment Mazie had the delight of seeing Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford enter with his "soup and fish" friend Mr. Dennis Farraday. As
+they both had to pass directly by the table at which sat Miss Adair and
+Mr. Height, of course they both paused for greetings, which included the
+introduction of Mr. Height to Mr. Farraday.
+
+"I could hardly eat in this beautiful cool place when I thought that
+maybe you would work on in the hot office with nothing with ice packed
+around it for your luncheon," said Miss Adair, as she raised her eyes to
+Mr. Vandeford's with the adoration still intact after at least
+three-quarters of an hour assault upon it by Mr. Gerald Height's
+disturbing personality. "I wanted to go back for you, but Mr. Height
+said that Mr. Meyers fed you cold pie when you were busy, and that you
+roared dreadfully if anybody interrupted you when you were eating it!"
+
+"He does," Mr. Farraday interjected, smiling down at her in a way that
+it was unwise to do in the Orangery at noon; and it lighted a fuse he
+little suspected. Miss Violet Hawtry caught the smile in mid-air and
+then promptly turned her back and became all charming attention to the
+gentleman with whom she was having luncheon, who was no other than the
+celebrated Weiner, who had built three theatres in two years and was
+building more. He was of the bull-necked type of Hebrew and not of the
+sensitive, exquisite type of the sons of the House of David to which
+belong the E. & K.'s, and the S. & S., as well as the great B. D.
+
+"When will the new theatre be completed, Mr. Weiner?" Miss Hawtry asked,
+as she turned over an iced shrimp and tore at a lettuce leaf with her
+fork.
+
+"October first," answered Mr. Weiner, past a mouthful of Russian
+herring.
+
+"What will the opening show be?" asked Miss Hawtry, with indifference,
+though there was a glint under her thick lashes lowered over her
+snapping Irish eyes.
+
+"'The Rosie Posie Girl,'" answered Weiner, and he swallowed his herring
+and gave her a shrewd glance at the same time.
+
+"Vandeford will never sell it to you," Miss Hawtry announced calmly, as
+she ate the shrimp and the torn lettuce leaf.
+
+"Maybe!" answered Weiner with equal calmness. "What are his plans for
+his new show that he is tearing up Forty-second Street about?"
+
+"Road from September fifteenth until New York October first."
+
+"What theater in New York?"
+
+"I don't know." As she made this answer Miss Hawtry looked up and caught
+a snap in Weiner's small black eyes, perched on each side of the hump of
+his red nose.
+
+"Has the show got goods?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going to put some into it," answered Miss Hawtry calmly.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I like Mr. Dennis Farraday, who's Vandeford's angel. I don't want to
+see Van take the money out of his pocket and get away with it." Miss
+Hawtry was dealing in half-truths to a lie expert.
+
+"Hooked Farraday yet?"
+
+"Not quite."
+
+"No use bargaining with a woman when she's fishing for a man, but if he
+slips the hook come to me and I'll show you a new bait. When do you
+open?"
+
+"Twenty-third of September, at Atlantic City."
+
+"I'll be there."
+
+"I hope you will, and--" but the rest of Miss Hawtry's remark was cut
+off by Mr. Dennis Farraday's genial greeting, backed by Mr. Vandeford's
+more restrained pleasure at happening upon her and her co-plotter, to
+whom she introduced Mr. Farraday.
+
+The exchange of amenities was as brief as it was cordial, but as Mr.
+David Vandeford and Mr. Jonathan Farraday passed on to a table which
+the discreet head waiter had reserved in case of the unexpected and
+tardy arrival of just such personages as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and his
+friend, Mr. Farraday, Miss Hawtry had answered a low-voiced question
+from Mr. Farraday with a sadly tender smile and the words:
+
+"At eight?"
+
+"The Claridge got me a box for the Big Show and a table at the Grove
+Garden for to-night, Van," remarked Mr. Farraday, as he unfolded his
+napkin. "It is the coolest place in town, and we might as well let the
+kid get just one good peep before she goes back into the shell ... if
+she goes. I'll take Miss Hawtry on and leave the box number for you and
+Miss Adair."
+
+"Right-o," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a growl. For the life of him he
+could not understand just why Mr. Gerald Height should have the
+privilege of feeding his author alone, while he seemed to be always
+forced to enjoy her company in the presence of others. He looked across
+the room, met the gray eyes laughing at him over a glass that was
+plainly iced tea, and was forced to exchange smiles with his downy
+little chicken, who was delightedly peeping out of her shell.
+
+"I think Mr. Vandeford is the most wonderful man I ever met," confided
+Miss Adair to Mr. Height, with no suspicion of the incitation such a
+remark would be to the ardor of the beloved of many women.
+
+"He's a great producer; had three big hits hand-running and fell down on
+'Miss Cut-up' because he wouldn't stand up to Hawtry, and let her cop
+the whole show," answered Mr. Height with great generosity, for in
+reality Mr. Height had the very poor opinion of Mr. Vandeford that it is
+the custom of all actors to hold in regard to their respective managers.
+However, he was sugar-coating the pill he was determined to administer
+to Miss Adair without delay. "He ought to marry Hawtry and get a bit in
+her mouth and the spurs on."
+
+"Is--is he in love with Miss Hawtry?" asked the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" with great interest, and the home-made color rose several
+degrees, that were not warranted by the calm gossip of the situation.
+
+"That's the noise he makes, but who can tell?" answered Mr. Height,
+reveling in the Adairville roses and no more aware of their origin than
+was their owner. "He meets bills, but nobody gets in behind his
+window-boxes." And Mr. Height raised his glass of Tom Collins, perfectly
+contented with the thought that he had enlightened Miss Adair about the
+private life of Mr. Vandeford. As a matter of fact he had failed utterly
+to do so, as she had not understood a word of his Broadway patois.
+"There's the great B. D. and beloved son-in-law," and Mr. Height nodded
+and smiled at a white-haired man and his companion who were seating
+themselves at the table next to them.
+
+"B. D.?" questioned Miss Adair.
+
+"Benjamin David," answered Mr. Height. "He and his son-in-law are
+putting on a great new show. Offered me a lead and--but I think I'll
+stick by 'The Purple Slipper.'" His eyes were so ardent as slightly to
+disturb Miss Adair and very greatly disturb Mr. Vandeford, who caught
+the warmth across several tables, and ground his teeth.
+
+However, Miss Patricia Adair was fully capable of handling such a
+situation, for ardor is ardor, whether encountered on Broadway in New
+York or Adairville in Kentucky, and Miss Adair had met it many
+times--and parried it.
+
+"I've really got to leave this perfectly lovely place and hurry down to
+the Y. W. C. A., to get some costume samples for Mr. Corbett," she said
+calmly, as she began to draw on her gloves and pull down the veil that
+reefed in the narrow brim of the jaunty hat Miss Lindsey and she had by
+a great stroke of luck discovered on a side street the day before.
+
+"Y. W. C. A.?" questioned Mr. Height, in stupefaction.
+
+"Everybody looks that way when I say it!" laughed Miss Adair, with a
+dimple flaunting above the left corner of her mouth. "Will you take me
+there or put me on something or in something that will let me off very
+near?"
+
+"I'll take you," answered Mr. Height tenderly and heroically, as he held
+the blue-silk coat for her to slip into.
+
+As the two of them stood together the great Dean of American Producers
+looked upon them with interest, and rose and offered his hand to Mr.
+Height.
+
+"Well, how about it?" he asked, with a smile under his beetling white
+brows.
+
+"Mr. David, please meet Miss Adair, the author of Mr. Vandeford's new
+Hawtry play," Mr. Height said by way of beginning an answer to the
+question put to him. "At last I'm going into wig and ruffles; the play
+is of colonial Kentucky."
+
+"I am delighted to meet you, Miss Adair," said the Broadway Maximus,
+"and you are fortunate to have Mr. Height for your play. I covet him,
+but I'll wait until next time."
+
+"Oh, thank you for not taking him away!" said Miss Adair, with a
+displaying of the roses which the great B. D. noted with pleasure. "Will
+you come and see our play and tell us what you think about it?" Miss
+Adair made her request, which was against the traditions of conventions
+on Broadway, with the unabashed air with which she had invited the
+reigning Governor of Kentucky to have dinner with her and Major Adair at
+the state fair the year before.
+
+"Ask Mr. Vandeford to invite me to a dress rehearsal," answered the
+great one, and Gerald Height beamed with pride, while Miss Adair
+displayed only gratitude and delight as they took their departure.
+
+In their exit they passed Mr. Vandeford's table and stopped to speak to
+him and Mr. Farraday.
+
+"That's Benjamin David Mr. Height introduced to me, and he's coming to
+help us at the dress rehearsals of 'The Purple Slipper.' It's
+wonderful!" Miss Adair exclaimed, as Mr. Vandeford rose and stood
+beside her. "Mr. Height is going down to the Y. W. C. A. with me, and
+we'll be right back to the office with those pieces of silk for the
+costumes. Mr. David wants him for lead, but he's going to be in 'The
+Purple Slipper' and go to Mr. David next. Isn't that fine?" and without
+waiting for an answer to her question the busy playwright departed on
+important business connected with the costuming of her play.
+
+"Somehow, Van, I don't see why we should worry," Mr. Farraday said, as
+he looked at the retreating figures of the pair whose beauty was
+attracting no little attention in the feasting Orangery. "She's getting
+along all right, eh?"
+
+"Remember you've been in the business about forty-eight hours, Denny,
+and never forget that every knife here is sheathed in a smile and
+everybody carries a rubber stamp with double X on it," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, with gloom, as he pushed back his coffee-cup. "She's tasted
+blood now and that ends it. She's with us, and the Lord help her! I
+can't!"
+
+"Well, come on and let's get to the office," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+a cheerful lack of sympathy with his friend's anxiety for the talented
+budding playwright.
+
+"Everything all O. K., Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he passed the
+table where the Miss Villines and the heavy movie man were finishing
+their bottles of cold beer.
+
+"Soused and scribbling," answered Mazie, cheerfully.
+
+"Remember, Friday."
+
+"Remember your check-book."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+Shortly after Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday reached the office of Mr.
+Vandeford, Miss Adair, accompanied by Mr. Height, appeared with a neat
+little parcel in their possession. Also Miss Adair had another, very
+conventional, corsage bouquet in the place of the one Mr. Vandeford had
+given her in the morning and which at luncheon had begun to look the
+worse for wear.
+
+"Now what shall I do?" she asked Mr. Vandeford, with great energy.
+
+"Go right down and get in my car and go back to the Y. W. C. A., to take
+a long nap. I'll call for you for that Broadway eye-opener at eight
+o'clock to-night, so get 'em well rested," he answered, and he smiled
+when he noted that the expression in her eyes that he had begun to look
+for with desperate eagerness still held. Mr. Meyers had engaged Mr.
+Height with a contract, and Mr. Farraday had been an interested
+spectator to the tussle. Producer and author were alone.
+
+"Mr. Height asked me to go to see Maude Adams, but I told him I couldn't
+go anywhere at night until you could take me," said Miss Adair with
+sparks of joy in the sea-gray eyes. "I'm so glad it is to-night."
+
+"Did you really tell Height that?" demanded Mr. Vandeford, with youth
+swelling through his arteries.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Go, child, go and get a nap," Mr. Vandeford laughed, as he opened the
+door for her and started out to descend and deliver her into the keeping
+of faithful Valentine.
+
+"I'll put her into the car, Van," offered Mr. Farraday. "They need you
+here in this fight."
+
+And again his author was snatched out of Mr. Vandeford's clutches.
+
+Several hours later a very interesting scene was enacted in two tiny
+adjoining rooms under the roof of the Y. W. C. A., with Miss Adair and
+Miss Lindsey as the principals.
+
+"If you take away all that net there won't be any waist left to the
+dress. Don't!" pleaded Miss Adair, as Miss Lindsey stood over her with
+determined scissors.
+
+"I'm making it absolutely perfect, and you can't tell by looking down on
+it. You'll have to trust me," answered Miss Lindsey, with pins in her
+mouth, as she snipped away a funny little tucker of common new net with
+which Miss Elvira Henderson of Adairville, Kentucky, had for the sake
+of her spinster convictions ruined a triumph she had accomplished
+directly out of "Feminine Fashions" and the ancestral trunk.
+
+"Will it be--be modest?" demanded Miss Adair.
+
+"A lot more modest than having that ugly mosquito netting telling
+everybody that you are not willing to have them see your marvelous neck
+and arms except through its meshes. Nobody will think you know you've
+got 'em, if you show them like everybody else; but they'll think you
+think you are a peep-show if you cover them half up." And as she spoke
+Miss Lindsey gave another daring rip and snip. Her philosophy struck
+home.
+
+"That's every word true," agreed Miss Adair, with relief. "I'll just
+forget about my skin there, as I do about that on my face and hands and
+nobody will notice me at all."
+
+"That's it. Skin is no treat to New York, and nobody will look at you
+twice." Miss Lindsey had a struggle to keep her voice and manner
+unconcerned enough, as she surveyed her finished product and saw that
+from under her hands would go forth a sensation. In the old ivory satin
+with its woven rosebuds and cream rose-point, above which rose pearly
+shoulders and a neck bearing a small, proud head, with close waves of
+heavy black hair, Miss Adair was like a dainty, luscious, tropical fruit
+that is more beautiful than its own flower. "How an old maid in a
+country town made that dress I don't see!" Miss Lindsey added
+reflectively.
+
+"It was you, who unmade it," answered Miss Adair with gratitude. "I wish
+you were going, too," she added as she nestled to the taller girl for a
+perfumed second.
+
+"I'm going to luncheon with you and Mr. Farraday to-morrow," answered
+Miss Lindsey, with a pleased laugh at Miss Adair's sudden clinging that
+indicated her sincerity in not wishing to leave her alone.
+
+"Oh, lovely! And Mr. Height will be with us too, for I promised to have
+luncheon with him again," she exclaimed, as Miss Lindsey began to insert
+her into an evening wrap made of a priceless old Paisley shawl which
+"Fashions" had also tempted Miss Elvira to desecrate with her scissors.
+
+"Gerald Height?" asked Miss Lindsey, and her eyes first snapped and then
+smouldered. "Where did he get in on--where did you meet him? Does Mr.
+Vandeford know about it and--"
+
+"I met him in Mr. Vandeford's office. He's in 'The Purple Slipper,' and
+I went to luncheon with him to-day. I meant to tell you about it, and
+meeting Mr. David, but Mr. Vandeford told me to get a nap and I thought
+I--"
+
+Here the speaking-trumpet in the hall informed Miss Lindsey that Mr.
+Vandeford was waiting for Miss Adair below, and she had to let her
+treasure depart from her.
+
+"I wonder just how straight Godfrey Vandeford is," she mused, as she
+picked up the discarded tucker of coarse netting. "The poor kid! I wish
+she was at home hidden behind Miss Elvira's skirts. Hawtry and a girl
+like that! Damn men!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+It may be that in the long life of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford he had passed a
+more perturbed evening than that on which he led his protégé, the author
+of "The Purple Slipper," to her début under the white lights of
+Broadway, but he could not recall the occasion. His grilling had begun
+while he waited for his charge to descend in the lobby of the Y. W. C.
+A. and it ended--
+
+"We are delighted to have Miss Adair stay with us while her play is
+being rehearsed," a very pleasant young woman, with a trim figure, kind
+and wise eyes, and gray-sprinkled hair, remarked to him after she had
+whistled the fact of his arrival above. "When such men as you, Mr.
+Vandeford, begin to put on clean historical plays, many of our anxieties
+will be over. I look on each musical show that appears on Broadway as a
+personal enemy."
+
+"I am glad indeed, Madam, that we are going to claim you as a friend of
+'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Vandeford answered, with his most pleasant
+smile. Somehow the sight and sound of that executive young woman in
+charge of his young author gave him a calmness that he needed, and his
+confidence shone in his face.
+
+"We are deeply interested in Miss Adair, for we have had influential
+letters sent us about her, and of course we are looking forward with
+eagerness to seeing her play. She is such a dear child!"
+
+The influential letters and the increased warmth in the young woman's
+tone in speaking about his author drew Mr. Vandeford still nearer to
+her, both in body and in spirit. He leaned slightly against the desk and
+smiled again.
+
+"May I send you seats for some night the first week of 'The Purple
+Slipper'?" he asked, with the greatest deference. And it must be
+recorded that in making the offer Mr. Vandeford was not bidding for the
+distinction conferred on him in the next few seconds.
+
+"That will be delightful," exclaimed the young woman. "And, Mr.
+Vandeford, here is a latch-key to the front door, to use to-night if you
+and Miss Adair are a little later than midnight in coming home. Remember
+to give it to her after you have put her inside the door and tell her to
+hang it on the rack opposite the number of her room. There she comes
+now!"
+
+Mr. Vandeford accepted the latch-key of the Y. W. C. A. with awe and
+looked at it as he would have looked at a decoration handed him by the
+Metropolitan governors. Then he glanced up and beheld Miss Adair
+displaying herself to his new-found friend.
+
+"You are very pretty, my dear," she was saying with an affectionate
+smile. "Just let me put a pin here in this fold of lace," and expertly
+she reefed up the last fold of rose-point that Miss Lindsey had snipped
+down in a hurried finish of her remodeling. Strange to say Mr.
+Vandeford felt still more further drawn to his young Christian
+Association friend.
+
+"Now run along, both of you, and have a pleasant evening," she said to
+them as she turned to answer the telephone.
+
+"That girl is an extremely delightful person," Mr. Vandeford remarked,
+while he and Valentine were tucking Miss Adair under the linen robe in
+the car.
+
+"I'm so glad you are getting used to the Y. W. C. A.," Miss Adair
+answered, giving him a delighted smile as he seated himself beside her
+while Valentine started the car up the avenue. "Mr. Height said it was
+like being forced to go to church in a strange town and getting into
+somebody's cozy corner by mistake."
+
+"I wish I were married to that girl, to-night," Mr. Vandeford exclaimed
+out of the sudden rush of anxiety that had overtaken him by this
+fledgling author's mention of his leading man.
+
+"Then who would be taking me out, out on Broadway?" asked Miss Adair
+with a little laugh that had a more distinctly friendly note in it than
+it had before held for him.
+
+"Both of us," replied Mr. Vandeford, with an answering laugh that
+sounded much too young in his own ears. "You'll need two."
+
+"Am I going to have as many dreadful things happen to me to-night as I
+was going to have when I met Mr. Corbett and Mr. Benjamin David and Mr.
+Height and the other theatrical people? Am I being warned again?" Mr.
+Vandeford accepted the teasing and laughed at himself.
+
+"My wings are up. Go out and scratch for yourself."
+
+"Not very far, though," Miss Adair answered. Mr. Vandeford was not sure
+that she moved a fraction of an inch nearer to him, but he hoped so. "I
+feel just the same about you as I do about Roger and I like to be going
+with you--into--into danger."
+
+"Who's Roger?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"He's my brother, who treats me as you do. It's fun for a woman to be
+frightened dreadfully when she is with a man she likes." Again there was
+that uncertainty as to whether Miss Adair fluttered a fraction of an
+inch in his direction, and for the life of him Mr. Vandeford could not
+say whence had flown all the many ways he would have commanded
+ordinarily for the finding out if such were the case.
+
+"A frightened woman is often rather--rather deadly to a man," he
+answered before he could stop himself. The habit of speaking out
+directly to Miss Adair was growing on him, he perceived, and it alarmed
+him.
+
+"Into what danger are you taking me now?" asked Miss Adair with a fluty,
+merry laugh.
+
+"We are going with Mr. Farraday and Miss Hawtry to see the Big Show and
+to the Grove Garden on the roof afterward for supper. Just a slow, usual
+sort of an evening, but Denny thought it would be fun for you to see
+the Big Show and the Big Feed and the Big Dance by way of initiation,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered, with an entire lack of enthusiasm.
+
+"I wanted to see what you wanted me to see this first night," Miss Adair
+said with the affectionate frankness of six years going on seven. "What
+would that be?"
+
+"We'll see it to-morrow night," Mr. Vandeford answered her, and this
+time the tenderness in his voice surprised him and he considered it
+entirely unjustifiable.
+
+"Mr. Height was going to take me to see Maude Adams, but I know he'll
+put it off again when I tell him that you want me to--"
+
+"No, don't! Let Height get Maude Adams out of his system, for Heaven's
+sake," snapped Mr. Vandeford, this time in unjustifiable temper.
+
+"Why, what is--" Miss Adair was asking of Mr. Vandeford in positive
+alarm when Valentine stopped before the blazing doorway of the Big Show.
+A functionary seven feet tall opened the door of the car and all but
+literally extracted them by force, for he was anxious to repeat the
+operation on the occupants of the car chugging behind them.
+
+Now, there are many, many fair women born within the state lines of Old
+Kentucky who live calm and peaceful lives and die and are buried with no
+greater contrast of experience than comes from birth and death, love and
+hate, riches and poverty, and they never know the difference; but
+occasionally one bursts out of her bonds and flames her beauty over
+strange worlds, in foreign embassies, in the courts of St. James or
+Petrograd, or in an opera or theater box in New York. When this eruption
+occurs many sparks fly. And many sparks from bright eyes were showered
+on the author of "The Purple Slipper," who sat calmly unaware in the
+left stage-box of the Big Show that August night beside the notorious
+Hawtry, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and Mr. Dennis Farraday. And of the
+sparks no one was more conscious than both Miss Hawtry and Mr.
+Vandeford, while big Dennis was in a blissfully ignorant state of mind
+like to that of Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Though he
+had been for about forty-eight hours a producer on the rear side of the
+footlights, Mr. Farraday still had the attitude of mind possessed by one
+of an audience, and he watched the stage rather than the "front." He
+thus failed to get the impression created by his guest from Kentucky,
+and blissfully left Mr. Vandeford to deal with her sensations derived
+from the show. Mr. Vandeford had his hands full.
+
+To Miss Adair the Big Show was a series of mental and moral and artistic
+explosions. She sat with delight through the Japanese acrobats and Swiss
+quartette of yodelers, and she welcomed pretty, pert little Mazie
+Villines with enthusiasm that gradually faded into horror as that artist
+flaunted more and more lingerie and "dished the dirt" which the
+inebriate playwright, at that moment engaged in "putting pep" into Miss
+Adair's own beloved "Purple Slipper," _née_ "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," had supplied. The "dirt" was received by the audience at
+large with a hilarious joy that entirely justified the managers of the
+Big Show for keeping Mazie busy "dishing."
+
+However, all things come to an end, and with a last provocative,
+revealing kick Mazie was allowed to depart and give way to a pair of
+young dancers who promised to display wares more wholesome.
+
+Without knowing why he did it, Mr. Vandeford leaned forward so that his
+left ear was within reach of the whisper of Miss Adair's lips as she
+turned her head and tilted it like a droopy flower toward his.
+
+"I've only seen Sarah Bernhardt and John Drew and Maude Adams and
+Mansfield and Joe Jefferson and Arliss and the Coburns, up in
+Louisville," she faltered with her eyes questioning his and wide open
+with horror.
+
+"These next ones aren't so bad, and we'll go before any more come on
+that--that you won't like," he whispered in return. He had glanced
+through the program and seen that the climax would be an exhibition of
+jungle courtship by one of America's most notorious women and her
+partner, done to extreme negroid melody.
+
+"Thank you," she murmured as she turned to watch the willowy youth and
+maid go through some very beautiful movements of the dance that was
+entirely unobjectionable. In two minutes she had turned her face,
+beaming with pleasure, so that Mr. Vandeford could see that all was well
+with her; and ten minutes later she giggled out loud at the repartee of
+two black-faced artists.
+
+During the respite that his knowledge of the numbers on the program gave
+him, Mr. Vandeford did more of his peculiar brand of thinking, and
+reached a diplomatic conclusion. By the intermission, which came just
+before the jungle "big number" to give late comers time to gather in for
+their salacious feast, he was ready to act.
+
+"Miss Adair and I are going to get a breath of air," he announced.
+
+"But the big number is next, and she might miss it," objected Miss
+Hawtry, with solicitude for Miss Adair's pleasure. Mr. Vandeford had
+thought past just that objection delivered by Miss Hawtry, and he knew
+that in no way must he seem to be shielding the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" from the salaciousness that gave Miss Hawtry great joy. If he
+went too far in any act of comparative analysis he would bring danger
+upon "The Purple Slipper," with whose fate Miss Adair's was one.
+
+"We'll be back in plenty of time," he lied.
+
+"Be sure!" Miss Hawtry commanded, and then turned to devote herself to
+Mr. Farraday, who was laying himself out to salve what he thought must
+be her pain at the loss of his beloved friend. The Violet had soon
+caught his attitude toward her, and was encouraging his chivalry in
+every way possible by the most pensive of poses as the generous
+deserted. Such a situation is all to a woman's advantage if she knows
+how to work it, and Miss Hawtry possessed that knowledge.
+
+"Van ought to have a medical degree for operating young girls' eyes
+open, and making them see rose-colored for a while," she said with a
+good-humored smile and a soft little sigh, as she raised her Irish eyes
+in all their softness to Mr. Farraday's.
+
+To this insinuation, founded on an implied lie as far as the Hawtry was
+concerned, Mr. Farraday made no reply, but turned to greet with fitting
+applause the great dancer, on whose account one of the American artistic
+bright lights had been extinguished forever, and in ten seconds was
+inwardly thanking Vandeford for extracting Miss Adair before she had
+felt the blighting smirch of the big number. While Mr. Farraday watched
+the exhibition before him, Mr. Vandeford was amusing the child of their
+joint solicitude by letting her look at the white lights. While waiting
+at the curb before the Big Show for the large dignitary in uniform to
+summon Valentine, he had directed that worthy to have a message sent in
+to Miss Hawtry that they would join her at supper. Then upon the arrival
+of his car, he had carefully inserted Miss Adair before he had said to
+the puzzled Valentine:
+
+"Drive slowly down around the circle and down Broadway, so that you can
+come back just while the theater crowd is on."
+
+Some instinct had led Mr. Vandeford to choose exactly the panacea to
+soothe Miss Adair's shock--the lights of Broadway.
+
+"It's like fairy-land," she gasped, as they rolled down past
+Forty-seventh Street. "Oh, look at the kitten chasing the spool, all in
+electric lights!"
+
+"Wait a minute, and I'll show you an eagle flop his wings," promised Mr.
+Vandeford, and he was surprised that he seemed for the first time to
+feel the actual glory of the electric signs on his great Broadway, which
+is as much of an all-American institution as the shipyards in Brooklyn.
+
+"All the world is on fire, and everybody is going to it," Miss Adair
+exclaimed, as Valentine made his return just as the theaters were
+pouring their crowds out into the seething maelstrom of the great
+scintillating cañon. She watched as the big car stood motionless before
+a stream of humanity that poured across its front wheels and then
+bounded forward as blue-coated arms stemmed the tide on the edges of
+both sidewalks for a few brief minutes in which they were allowed to
+progress to a street beyond, where they were again halted, wedged in
+with other impatient, purring cars.
+
+In a limousine next her Miss Adair saw a boy in a top hat, with white
+gloves upon his hands, smother in an eager and unabashed embrace a
+white-shouldered girl, whose arms went around his neck regardless of
+"mother" assiduously looking the other way. In a car on the other side a
+richly garbed gentleman dozed upon his cushions in triumphant inebriety.
+Also, while she and Vandeford waited, she saw a guardian spinster shoo
+a bevy of school-girls across in front of the cars, and turn in the
+middle of the street to reprove a college boy for a laughing word tossed
+to the combined bevy, while the blue arms on both sidewalks waved her
+into haste so that they might unleash their restrained monster motors.
+Everywhere protective men had women's arms fastened within their own and
+were shoving through the throng, while other men and women jostled along
+by themselves, or in companies of twos and threes, with laughing good
+nature. Fakirs were crying many wares, and in and out squirmed newsboys
+calling war extras in words that seemed to imply that New York was being
+shelled from the sea, but did not make that exact statement.
+
+"It's all the world, and I'm a part of it," Miss Adair again said, and
+Mr. Vandeford was again surprised at himself that he was not surprised
+to find tears glinting in the sea-gray eyes raised to his.
+
+"_This_ is the Big Show," he said with a little answering thrill in his
+own voice, as the enormity of the scene he had witnessed night after
+night broke on him for the first time.
+
+"They all live here and sleep here and eat here and work here
+and--and--love here," she said softly, and smiled, for again the
+limousine with the embracing lovers had paused by the side of
+Valentine's car, and the embrace still held.
+
+"No, the sleepers and eaters and workers of New York were in bed long
+ago. Everybody you see here in this push has his or her vital wires
+connected up at Squeedunck, Illinois, or Zanesville, Indiana or--"
+
+"Or in Adairville, Kentucky," Miss Adair added with a laugh.
+
+"No, you belong--anywhere. Creative people ought to have no--no home
+wires," Mr. Vandeford answered, and there was a queer sadness in his
+voice that he did not himself understand. "People with messages must
+have masses to hand them to. That's why you came, and, I suppose, must
+stay."
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, "I want to stay--if you'll let me."
+
+"I can't do otherwise," Mr. Vandeford answered her. Then he turned and
+looked her full in her serious eyes. "But if you stay you will have to
+accept broad standards, or suffer."
+
+"That Mazie woman?"
+
+"Maybe worse."
+
+She sat silent until, a few moments later, Valentine drew up again at
+the curb before the Big Show, which had been out long enough to disperse
+most of its crowd, and was now receiving supper guests for the Garden
+Grove above.
+
+"I'm going to stay--with you--and 'The Purple Slipper,'" she announced,
+as he reached into the car for her and swung her to the pavement.
+
+"Goes!" he answered, with mingled emotions, which he could not have
+analyzed.
+
+Miss Adair was as good as her word. She accepted the reveling crowd of
+the garden, looked upon the abandon of drinking women and men, with
+only a slightly hunted expression in her eyes, and with her slim white
+hands applauded Simone when that artist made most audacious slings of
+her supple body in its scant clothing. She beamed upon the dancer when,
+as Mrs. Trevor, she came, at Mr. Farraday's invitation, to have a glass
+of champagne with them, and she quailed only once, when a band of
+extremely young girls, clothed in filmy garments, took tiny
+search-lights and went merrily hunting among the tables of laughing men
+and women after the lights had been put out for the sport. Her horror at
+observing Mr. Vandeford, who sat between her and the narrow aisle take
+various moneys from his pocket to defend himself from successive
+hunters, made her pale, and the moment the lights were flashed on again
+she rose to go.
+
+"Wonder what they'll do next," muttered Mr. Farraday, as he helped her
+into her wrap. Mr. Vandeford was not looking at his author or speaking.
+Once when he had put his hand in his pocket to get out a coin for one
+of the teasing girls with her search-light he had felt the Y. W. C. A.
+latch-key there, and it had short-circuited him entirely.
+
+"I know you are tired. It takes some time to get the New York pace, but
+you'll strike it. I think I'll stay to see the next Folly with Mr.
+Farraday," he heard the Violet saying to Miss Adair, and still
+short-circuited, he went with his calm young author down to the car. The
+hour was one-thirty, and a moon had climbed the heights of the Broadway
+cañon. Valentine, with some sort of psychic direction, went across
+Central Park and down wide, clean, silent, and dimly lighted Fifth
+Avenue. Both Mr. Vandeford and Miss Adair were silent, and he was not
+aware that she was crying until just before they turned into her side
+street.
+
+"They were so young, those girls, and they--they didn't want to--to do
+that," she said with little catches in her beautiful, slurring,
+Blue-grass voice.
+
+"Maybe they didn't; but they wouldn't go back now, not one," he answered
+her.
+
+She was silenced, and stood quiet beside him as he opened the door of
+the big, gloomy, protective building, with the key the woman of another
+world than his had intrusted to him.
+
+"I know," she said at last, as she held out her hand to him. And because
+it trembled ever so slightly and was cold, he put his warm lips to it
+for a second before he handed her into a great international safety. He
+remembered the key, but he didn't give it to her. Somehow he wanted it
+himself. He liked the feel of it in his pocket.
+
+"Wish I had Denny locked up in the Christian association!" he growled to
+himself as Valentine whirled him home.
+
+Just at that exact moment Mr. Dennis Farraday sat in Miss Violet
+Hawtry's Louis Quinze parlor at the Claridge, engaged in tenderly and
+awkwardly patting that star's sobbing white shoulder, as she lay on
+just such a couch as Manon Lescaut probably had had for just such
+scenes.
+
+"I don't blame him at all," sobbed Miss Hawtry, provocatively, with the
+art of long practice both on the stage and off. "My kind always loses to
+hers when the time comes."
+
+"Don't!" pleaded Mr. Farraday. It was all he could or was willing to
+plead at that moment.
+
+"But I want to make good in this play for him and her--and you--before I
+go out of his life forever. I want to repay him with--with both money
+and happiness. He made me an artist." With these words Miss Hawtry made
+an acknowledgment of the truth that she herself really believed to be
+untrue, because she saw that to praise Mr. Vandeford was the best way to
+blind Mr. Farraday while she approached him in that blindness. She knew
+that his loyalty to his David would be a barrier unless she used it as a
+ladder.
+
+"My God! How--how great women are!" was the immediate and hoped-for
+response she drew from the big Jonathan.
+
+"My art must fill my life now. Only there will be--friendship. You make
+me see that by the comfort of your kindness." Miss Hawtry laid her
+flushed cheek in the hollow of good Dennis's big warm hand. The moment
+was tense, but Hawtry had timed her line a little too far ahead, and it
+failed to get across. The prey was as embarrassed as a girl and, with
+another brotherly pat, arose to go.
+
+"You'll always let me do anything I can, won't you?" he asked as he
+looked down upon her for a second, then took a considerate departure.
+
+"Boob!" muttered Hawtry to herself, as she rose and rang for Susette.
+
+There are in this little old world many men like Dennis Farraday; only
+none of its inhabitants admit their existence.
+
+After the evening of the introduction of its author to Broadway, things
+spun fast and furiously in the business of producing "The Purple
+Slipper," and during the whirlwind of the day Miss Adair sat either in
+her own private office or in the chair beside Mr. Vandeford, and reveled
+in the excitement, and in the evenings did other revelings. She had her
+evening with Mr. Height under the spell of Barrie and Maude Adams, and
+Mr. Vandeford swore under his breath when she reported to him that they
+had gone to the concert on the roof of the Waldorf for an hour, and had
+got back to her abiding-place in time not to need the latch-key, which
+still reposed in his pocket. He knew Gerald Height, and he was puzzled
+and alarmed at this wary approach.
+
+Mrs. Farraday came to town, and the dinner-party in her staid, old
+Washington Square home, with himself and Miss Lindsey and Miss Adair as
+guests, was like a day's vacation for Mr. Vandeford. Also, he got a
+complete off-guard picture of Miss Adair as he would see her in
+Adairville, Kentucky, for she and the beautiful and stately Mrs.
+Farraday spoke the same language and had the same forms.
+
+"My dear child, you positively must come up to Westchester for this
+week-end! Matilda Van Tyne is going to come for the first blooming of
+the rhododendrons in the West Marsh, and I feel sure that she must have
+known your mother in some of her visits to Lexington. She must see you
+and hear all about the play. Now, Dennis, make all the arrangements."
+Mrs. Farraday gave her commands as a queen is accustomed to deliver
+them.
+
+"May I go?" Miss Adair asked of Mr. Vandeford, her shining gray eyes
+raised to his with deference and confidence as usual.
+
+"You may," answered Mr. Vandeford, aware that Mrs. Farraday's keen eyes
+of the world were fixed upon him in a speculative way. "The rehearsals
+will begin at eleven on Monday, and you can be back in plenty of time."
+
+"And, Miss Lindsey, will you come, too, with Miss Adair?" Mrs. Farraday
+surprised both her son and Mr. Vandeford by asking the young Westerner
+with the greatest graciousness. It was evident that the young leading
+lady had put herself across with the grand dame, and both Mr. Vandeford
+and Mr. Farraday rejoiced.
+
+"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Farraday, but I have made a professional engagement
+for Saturday evening. I am going to do a monologue stunt to fill in at
+the Colonial," Miss Lindsey answered, with pleasure at the invitation
+shining in her dark eyes.
+
+"Then Dennis can drive down on Sunday and bring you back in time for tea
+and to see the sunset on the rhododendrons." Mrs. Farraday further
+surprised her son and Mr. Vandeford by giving this command the
+imperiousness with which she was accustomed to issue her
+much-sought-after invitations.
+
+"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Farraday, with the same sort of eager kindness
+shining in his eyes as Miss Lindsey had met when he had asked her if
+beefsteak and mushrooms would be the thing for her starvation. The
+memory of that day made Miss Lindsey's eyes dim as she accepted the
+invitation, though she had had hope of a last minute chance to do a
+little Sunday "stunt" for Keith somewhere in subway New York. And Miss
+Lindsey needed the money, for a hundred dollars doesn't go far in New
+York even when carried in the pocket of a gown donned in the Y. W. C.
+A.; but she needed the rhododendrons and the tea more than she needed
+the material things that the extra fifty picked up at Keith's would have
+purchased.
+
+"Thank you, Mrs. Farraday, it would be--be 'great' to come that way,"
+Miss Lindsey answered. Both Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday, as well as
+Miss Adair, were struck with the sudden beauty that illumined Miss
+Lindsey's dark face as she smiled and quoted Mr. Farraday in her
+acceptance of his mother's invitation.
+
+"Is or is not little Lindsey a beauty, Denny?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as
+they drove up-town in the Surreness after depositing the girls at their
+nunnery.
+
+"I was just wondering," answered Mr. Farraday. "I'm mighty glad she made
+such a hit with the mater."
+
+"And I'm mighty glad I'm going to lose the author of 'The Purple
+Slipper' into the wilds of Westchester and the rhododendrons, while I
+extract her play from Howard and slash it myself and help Rooney to
+mutilate it further," said Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Of course you are going to the mater's with Miss Lindsey and me for
+tea, per usual?" asked Mr. Farraday.
+
+"Can't do it. Got to work on 'The Purple Slipper' while you people
+frolic. Good-night!" With which refusal and taunt Mr. Vandeford left Mr.
+Farraday at the door of his apartment-house.
+
+Mr. Farraday looked at his watch as he started away from the curb, found
+the hour to be eleven o'clock, wabbled the machine first to the right
+and then to the left, and finally turned down-town, in which direction
+the Claridge reared its twelve stories of masonry at the corner of
+Forty-fourth and Sixth.
+
+At about that minute these were the remarks exchanged through the open
+door that connected two little cell-like rooms at the Y. W. C. A.:
+
+"Aren't you going to bed right away? I'm so sleepy that I'm brushing my
+face instead of my hair," Miss Adair called to Miss Lindsey. A desperate
+and continual desire for sleep is the pest that haunts the rural visitor
+to New York and Miss Adair's young health was easily its prey. She did
+not readily learn to run on nerves.
+
+"You go to bed; but I've got to let the hem of my tailored linen down
+two inches, so it will brush against those rhododendrons as a lady's
+should, and sew up the opening in the neck of my chiffon blouse an inch
+and a half, so I won't spill any of Mrs. Farraday's tea down it.
+Good-night!" It goes to say that when Greek meets Vandal or the East
+meets the West, dents occur.
+
+And, as Mrs. Farraday had commanded, the rhododendron party at West
+Marsh came to pass, to the vast enjoyment of all present, though Mr.
+Vandeford's absence was a deprivation to the entire company. And that
+night their friendly hearts would have ached if they had been able to
+get a vision of his strenuosity. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer,
+was in full action, and chips from "The Purple Slipper" were flying in
+all directions.
+
+In his bedroom in the Seventy-third Street apartment, Mr. Vandeford was
+stripped for the fray--to his silk pajamas--and he lay stretched upon
+his fumed-oak bed, with both reading-lights turned on full blaze. In his
+hands was the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper," which Mazie Villines
+had literally torn from under the hands of Grant Howard to deliver to
+Mr. Vandeford on Saturday afternoon, just a day later than the time set
+for its deliverance.
+
+"My check and Grant's down, or no play," she had said upon entering Mr.
+Vandeford's apartment at about the setting of the Saturday sun. "He's
+off for a two week's d.t., and I gotter take care of him. Twelve-fifty
+is the way to write it."
+
+"Six hundred, and not a cent more without Grant's signature," answered
+Mr. Vandeford. Mr. Adolph Meyers, who was listening to the conversation
+from the hall from which he had ushered Miss Villines into Mr.
+Vandeford's library, set a spring-lock on the entrance door of the
+apartment, and entered the library unobtrusively.
+
+"Twelve-fifty, you old dollar-skinner!" averred the vaudeville star,
+with a nasty little laugh.
+
+"Don't try to pull off a hold-up, Mazie. It won't work. It's Grant's
+money," said Mr. Vandeford, with an icy calmness in his voice. And as
+she spoke he looked at Mr. Adolph Meyers, who answered the look with
+perfect comprehension.
+
+"Then you'll get the manuscript when hell freezes over or your wad
+loosens," she again laughed, and this time turned toward the door with
+the square manila portfolio under her arm.
+
+An interested spectator could not have said afterward just how it did
+happen that in half a second the manila portfolio was in the hands of
+Mr. Adolph Meyers, who also bore upon his left cheek a long and
+profusely bleeding scratch.
+
+"Here's your check, child, and keep a good grip on Grant, so he can't
+get started toward East River as he did last time," Mr. Vandeford said
+as he handed an already prepared check to the enraged girl. She was dumb
+for a second, no longer.
+
+"I was going to leave it for five hundred, you old white-skinned bluffer
+with your goose-grease, strong arm," she finally blurted out, and in a
+twinkling of her bright eyes her good-nature had returned. "Say, that is
+some play now, and I wish you'd let me play a dance girl at that
+dinner-party. I'd do it refined." There was a queer little appeal in the
+mobile young face. "I'd like to doll up like a lady."
+
+"I'll think that over, Mazie," answered Mr. Vandeford. "A song and dance
+from you might go all right."
+
+"Gimme a call, will you? I'll be on the job with my guzzler for a week
+now. I got to get him past, for he's some meal-ticket when times is
+dull." As Mazie disposed of the check in her stocking, a degree of
+affectionate anxiety for the condition of Mr. Grant Howard showed in her
+face for the fraction of a second, then disappeared as she looked at Mr.
+Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Come on and get my wad from where I've put it, if you dare, Dolph," she
+challenged, then laughed, as the imperturbable Mr. Meyers both ignored
+and showed her to the door with all courtesy.
+
+And as he lay on his bed reading over the Howard manuscript of "The
+Purple Slipper," which had just returned to him after a twenty-four hour
+overhauling and annotation for action by Mr. William Rooney, the stage
+director with the top price, Mr. Vandeford said to Mr. Adolph Meyers,
+who sat at a table beside the bed, taking down and inserting notes into
+the manuscript as they sprang from Mr. Vandeford's brain, almost before
+they got past his lips:
+
+"No wonder Mazie could see herself in this show, Pops! Grant has pepped
+it up almost to her standard. Whee-ugh!" With this whistle Mr. Vandeford
+turned page twenty of the first act and handed it over to Mr. Meyers,
+who began to devour it with eyes that took in almost the whole page at a
+glance.
+
+"It is a snap-shot of Miss Hawtry he has made, Mr. Vandeford, sir. Mr.
+Howard has never done better."
+
+"Yes, that's what he intended to do, but I'm going to clean it out a
+bit. Run an insert of the scene on page five to seven and a half out of
+Miss Adair's manuscript. It is just as good and a little--little
+more--say, Pops, cut out seven lines on page fourteen from the second
+down, and take this from me instead." Mr. Vandeford closed his eyes and
+dictated a bit of dialogue between two of the minor characters of "The
+Purple Slipper," which cleared up a point Mr. Howard and Mr. Rooney and
+the original author had all left at loose ends. As he dictated, Mr.
+Meyers wrote on the blank page opposite the lines, and made some
+cabalistic signs for insertion.
+
+Slowly they progressed through the first act, Mr. Vandeford reading from
+two manuscripts and reconciling Mr. Howard's shaky, pen annotations, Mr.
+Rooney's blue-pencil, action directions, and Miss Adair's original
+wanderings from the point with many brilliant returns in quaint
+dialogue.
+
+"That child has got more brains and uses them less than would seem
+possible," growled Mr. Vandeford, as he with a few deft lines near the
+close of the second act got the heroine off the stage and out of an
+impossible situation in which Miss Adair had involved her.
+
+"It is that her characters talk with interest, but act in awkwardness,
+Mr. Vandeford, sir. Another good play can be written by Miss Adair,"
+Mr. Meyers said as he put in two lines and a cross star sign.
+
+"God forbid!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, in all sincerity. "Here, Pops,
+get this first act down to those girls waiting in the office. Did you
+get two for all night, so one could get out the parts? You know Rooney
+will expect a reading to-morrow before he begins rehearsals."
+
+"It is three girls now waiting at the office for the night, and a
+messenger in your hall, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Meyers as he
+gathered up his annotated pages, put them into a new manila portfolio,
+and rose to take them to the A. D. T. boy asleep on the floor in the
+hall.
+
+"We haven't rushed in a manuscript like this since 'Dear Geraldine,'
+have we, Pops?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he picked up the second act.
+"It's just nine o'clock, and those girls ought to get through by three
+A. M. Don't let Steinberg charge up twelve hours on you."
+
+"It will be at eight that they are still working, Mr. Vandeford, sir,
+and night type-writing means much money," Mr. Meyers answered, as he
+departed with his package.
+
+"At that we'd better get busy to feed it to 'em," Mr. Vandeford said, as
+he picked up and began to dig into the pages.
+
+For the three hours ensuing he and his henchman worked with never a
+hitch in their growls and scratches and muttered exchanges. Then, as
+they came close to the climax of the last act, Mr. Vandeford sat up from
+his pillows, which were heated almost beyond endurance with his night
+lights and his tousled head, and gave forth a roar.
+
+"I'll be hanged if I'll let that scene between Rosalind and her lover go
+with that filthy twist that Howard has given it! The words are almost
+the original, but what will Hawtry make of what he's put into it?"
+
+"It will be the worst she makes," answered Mr. Meyers. "But it is for
+pep very good, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and can be tried out."
+
+"That's right, Pops. I wonder if I am a Broadway producer or--or the
+czar of a young ladies' seminary," Mr. Vandeford growled as he lay down,
+and again went to work.
+
+"It is that Miss Adair will not understand it until Miss Hawtry is at
+work, and before that all may be dead," Mr. Meyers consoled, as he, too,
+fell upon "The Purple Slipper."
+
+At two-thirty the now soggy A. D. T. received the last manila envelope
+to deliver to the busy girls down in Mr. Vandeford's office, and that
+distinguished producer was stretched out on his bed in cool darkness
+while Mr. Meyers was in a subway nodding his way up to his humble room
+on One Hundred and Sixteenth Street.
+
+"If I live through seeing her past the reading of the blamed thing
+to-morrow, I'll be stronger than I think I am," Mr. Vandeford murmured
+as he felt the calmness of sleep fall upon him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Rehearsals for "The Purple Slipper" had been called positively for
+September first, and the response became unanimous at about fifteen
+minutes to eleven at the Barrett Theater on West Forty-sixth Street;
+that is, it was unanimous except for the presence of the author and the
+angel--Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday--and Miss Violet Hawtry, the star,
+who never came to first readings until the whole cast was assembled and
+could be impressed with the fact that she came and went as she listed.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, I take it that you all know one another--and Mr.
+William Rooney," said Mr. Vandeford, as he took a seat at the left of a
+table placed in the center of the stage just beyond the footlights. Mr.
+Rooney marched to a place beside him, and rapped with a large black
+pencil for attention from the groups into which the dozen members of the
+cast had fallen after mutual introductions and greetings.
+
+"Everybody grab a seat that is good enough to glue to for five hours
+while Fido here gives out your parts," commanded Mr. Rooney, without in
+any way acknowledging Mr. Vandeford's introduction to the company. Mr.
+Rooney's voice was low and rich, and had the precision and decision of a
+machine-gun in its utterances. With hurried obedience the entire company
+looked about the stage for seats.
+
+Miss Bébé Herne, though having fifty pounds the advantage of any of the
+others in avoirdupois, was the first seated. She merely dropped down
+upon a stout pine bench, the front of which was stuccoed to represent
+antique marble, and peremptorily motioned Mr. Wallace Kent to that
+portion of the seat left after she had wedged herself as far to one side
+as possible. Mr. Kent obeyed immediately, though he had just placed a
+rickety, stuffed chair beside the gold one occupied by Miss Blanche
+Grayson, the glowerer. Miss Lindsey sat on the end of an overturned box
+hedge before a drop curtain of a twilight night, and Mr. Reginald Leigh
+sat in a wicker chair under a brilliant canvas flowering shrub of no
+known variety. The rest of the company were soon seated and receiving
+the small, blue-backed, manuscript books from the pale young man whom
+Mr. Rooney always addressed as Fido.
+
+"Everybody here but Miss Hawtry," said Mr. Rooney, and he glared at Mr.
+Vandeford as though that gentleman must be concealing the star in the
+pocket of his gray, silk-crash coat.
+
+"And Miss Hawtry is here also," came in a very beautifully modulated
+voice from left stage, as the tardy star came down center, and stood
+directly in front of the table at which sat the producer and his
+stage-manager. Mr. Vandeford rose immediately and said good-morning; Mr.
+Rooney kept his seat and looked Miss Hawtry through and through with a
+cold reproof.
+
+"Five minutes late," he said with an edge in the words that cut.
+
+"I really beg your pardon, and it shall not happen--" the star was
+beginning to say in an apologetic tone, which bent under the cold edge
+of the assault, as Mr. Vandeford had hoped it would, when Mr. Rooney cut
+it off with a curt command to pale Fido.
+
+"Give out the Hawtry part."
+
+Miss Hawtry accepted the little blue booklet handed her by Fido, and
+also Mr. Vandeford's chair, placed carefully in the center of the stage
+for her. The first brush between Mr. Rooney and Miss Hawtry had been
+pulled off and he had won, much to Mr. Vandeford's delight. For "Miss
+Cut-up" he had had to hire, pay for, and fire, three successive
+stage-managers, and she had managed all three. Mr. Rooney's boast was
+that no star had ever managed him and that he had successfully staged
+every play he had undertaken; hence a spectacular salary. Also he felt
+that his reputation was at stake in the Hawtry duel, and he was
+determined to back his own method.
+
+"Scene first, act first; Betty Carrington is discovered on stage. Go to
+it, Betty!" he commanded as Fido took a seat at the end of the table,
+opened a copy of the first act, and sat ready for annotations.
+
+"How beautiful the morning is and--" the glowering Miss Blanche Grayson
+was beginning to read from her cerulean booklet, when an interruption
+occurred.
+
+Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday entered from the stage door.
+
+Mr. Vandeford looked at Mr. Rooney, and muttered under his breath:
+"Angel and author, Bill. Easy!"
+
+"Shoot," answered Mr. Rooney, in a mild undertone, though he glared at
+the company as though in a cold rage.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Miss Adair, the author of
+our play. You have all of you met Mr. Farraday. Mr. Rooney, our
+stage-director, Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday." Mr. Vandeford made the
+introductions as rapidly as possible and in a voice of such coolness
+that Miss Adair looked at him in astonishment and then at the assembled
+company with great timidity. With special trepidation did she regard Mr.
+Rooney, who had bobbed his scrubby, black-mopped head at her with no
+expression at all in his little black eyes, while he refused to see Mr.
+Farraday's offered hand.
+
+"Have seats in the left stage-box," he directed them in the same tone of
+voice with which he had quelled Miss Hawtry. "Now, get going there,
+Betty Carrington, and open again."
+
+Mr. Vandeford led Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday out into the wings in a
+roundabout path to the left stage-box, and paused with them out of sight
+of Mr. Rooney. Then the humanity came back into his face and voice as he
+spoke to his friends in an undertone.
+
+"Rooney is the genius among stage-directors, but he's the original and
+genuine Tartar. How are you both?" As he asked the question he held out
+a hand to each of them, and his smile held the cordiality to which they
+were both accustomed.
+
+"We had a blow-out on Riverside Drive, and that's what makes us late.
+Now I've got to take the car around to the garage," Mr. Farraday
+apologized, as he rumpled his leonine mane, fanned himself with his hat,
+and departed.
+
+Miss Adair fairly clung to the hand of friendship offered her, with
+relief that it had not been withdrawn forever, as she had feared from
+the coolness of Mr. Vandeford's greeting before the assembled company of
+"The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I'm afraid," she murmured with both alarm and amusement sparkling in
+her gray eyes, in which Mr. Vandeford found himself searching for a
+certain expression with the eagerness with which he always looked for it
+after even a brief separation from his author. It was there and
+undimmed. "Let's go sit down where he told us to," Miss Adair
+whispered.
+
+"Good girl!" laughed Mr. Vandeford as he led the way to the left
+stage-box to which Mr. Rooney had summarily banished the author and the
+angel. He seated Miss Adair at the front edge of the box and took the
+chair close at her left. She was thus bulwarked and buttressed for any
+assault that might be hurled her way. It came in a very few minutes.
+
+Miss Bébé Herne and Miss Mildred Lindsey were in the midst of reading an
+animated dialogue on page five by the time Miss Adair's attention was
+firmly riveted on the stage and the reading in progress. Fortunately the
+little scene was of her own writing. Mr. Vandeford had put it back into
+the play instead of the paraphrase Mr. Howard had made of it, and he was
+surprised to find how deeply grateful he was to himself for having given
+her this bit as he watched the home-made color rise under the gray eyes
+as the author sat and heard her written words come to life in a little
+bit of really sparkling character comedy, which both Miss Lindsey and
+experienced Bébé were acting as well as reading in such a way as to
+bring out all the charm of the lines. The happiness of both author and
+producer lasted about two minutes, then it was broken into by Mr.
+William Rooney with a crash.
+
+"Nuff, there, nuff!" he commanded, in the midst of a quaint epigram,
+which Bébé was delivering with unction. "Audiences don't want to hear
+smart babble after their seats are all down. They want to see the star
+and get going. Cut in Miss Hawtry at the second set-to of Harriet and
+aunt. Take it this way: 'And my dear Rosalind has said, Harriet--' Enter
+Rosalind with the line you have there."
+
+"Yes, it's time for me to get on and--" Miss Hawtry was agreeing
+complacently, when she was quickly snapped off in her remark.
+
+"Line, Miss Hawtry, not gab," Mr. Rooney commanded.
+
+Instantly Miss Hawtry was reading from her lines and faithful Fido was
+making annotations upon his manuscript with strokes that spelled
+finality to the stricken author, who raised her protesting eyes to the
+producer of her play.
+
+"Steady now," Mr. Vandeford whispered. "This is the first reading, and
+he's setting. We can't side-track him now. Later you can--" but the
+author's attention was caught by the dialogue between Miss
+Hawtry and Bébé, which was the first full dose of the Howard
+fifteen-hundred-dollar, inebriate, but very brilliant and Hawtry-like,
+"pep."
+
+"Oh, I didn't write that at all!" she whispered, as she fairly shrank
+against Mr. Vandeford's strength of mind, if not against the strength of
+his arm that he had laid across the back of her chair.
+
+"Just sit still and listen to-day as though it were somebody else's
+play, and we will talk it over afterward. You know I--I warned you," he
+whispered with soothing tenderness, his lips almost against her ear in
+the dusk of the box.
+
+"I promised, and I will," she answered him, and he was at a loss to
+know if she really did flutter to him a fraction of an inch as he had
+suspected her of doing in his car on the night of her début on Broadway.
+The charm of Kentucky girls is composed of many illusions and realities,
+which they themselves hardly understand, and use by hereditary instinct.
+
+And with her proud head poised in all stateliness, Miss Patricia Adair
+sat for five solid hours and heard "The Purple Slipper," _née_ "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind," read from first to last page by the people
+who were to present it to the public; and Mr. Vandeford found his heart
+bleeding for the thrusts into hers. Not a protest did she make, but the
+roses faded and the gray eyes sank far back behind their black defending
+lashes, and they were glittering with suppressed tears as the wearied
+company rose to its feet after the last line.
+
+"Here to-morrow at eleven sharp," were Mr. Rooney's words of dismissal
+as he and Fido followed the company in their hurried exit toward the
+stage-door, with not so much as a glance at the box in which sat the
+stricken author.
+
+And there alone, off the dismal and dismantled stage in the cool dusk of
+the box, producer and author faced each other and the situation.
+
+"If my grandfather were not--not--dying, I'd take it right home and burn
+it all up!" were the first words the author of "The Purple Slipper" gave
+utterance to, after the last echo of the last footstep had died off the
+stage.
+
+"You couldn't, you've sold it to--to me," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+coolness in his voice that restored her mental balance, as he had
+intended it should. "Now answer me truly; is it or is it not a good
+play?"
+
+"It's not my play; it's horrid and vulgar!" the author stormed, with
+lightning burning up the tears in her gray eyes.
+
+"That whole situation is exactly as you wrote it, and about a third of
+the lines are yours, or will be yours by the time it is at the first
+night, if you play the game. I have not decided whether I think it is a
+good play or not. If I think it isn't, you may have it and burn it up. I
+don't know what Rooney thinks yet. If he doesn't want to go on, I
+won't." Mr. Vandeford had known the women of many climes, and he found
+himself using that experience on Miss Adair with great skill, though it
+hurt him to do so.
+
+"Part of it I don't even understand," Miss Adair continued to storm, and
+Mr. Vandeford was about to discover that either a Blue-grass woman or
+horse, with the bit in their respective mouths, is mighty apt to go a
+pace before curbed. "What was that scene in the last act just before the
+dinner-party? She read so fast and he had his back to me, so I suppose
+that is the reason I didn't get it." Miss Adair was alluding to the
+scene whose vulgarity Mr. Vandeford had wished to sacrifice, but which
+Mr. Meyers had pleaded for on account of its extra dash of "pep" exactly
+suited to the Hawtry style.
+
+"You won't be able to judge the Hawtry scenes at all until the opening
+night," Mr. Vandeford answered, positively quaking in his boots for fear
+that Miss Adair would force him to an elucidation of the scene, which
+was mostly of the cleverest innuendo. "She is a miserable study, and she
+and Height rehearse the big scenes alone. She just walks through with
+the company. Truly, you can hardly judge anything of what a play will be
+from just a reading or from any rehearsal. Please trust me and help me
+as you promised you would."
+
+"But the play isn't mine, at all! My play is--is killed--and dead, and
+murdered." Miss Adair persisted, still writhing from the butchery.
+
+"It is your play; but granting that it isn't, at all, think what it will
+mean to all of us if this--this nobody's play succeeds. Think what it
+will mean to the actors in the company. Miss Lindsey was hungry when she
+got her first advance on your play, and Bébé Herne hasn't had a part
+that suited her so well in years. If it goes she ought to have enough
+to make her easy; and she is getting old now--"
+
+"If you'll say and tell everybody that the play isn't mine, of course
+I'll help you, and--" Miss Adair agreed, with the tears dried by the
+anger and a degree of sanity returning at Mr. Vandeford's skilful appeal
+to her generosity, which he made when he saw that his attempt to bluff
+her about calling off the play had failed. Mr. William Rooney came into
+the box. His hat was tilted on the back of his head and in the corner of
+his mouth was a large cigar, which he was chewing and not smoking. He
+seated himself without invitation and spoke with his usual abruptness:
+
+"That play is a hummer, Vandeford, if I can just make the dolts put it
+across. It is a genuine Hawtry vehicle, but in a new vein. It's a
+corking situation and yet rings true. Did any old dame really have the
+spunk to put that dinner-party across on both lover and husband that
+you've got in your play, miss?" As Mr. Rooney asked the question of
+Miss Adair, it was the first time that he had seemed aware of the
+existence of the author of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"It's not my play, Mr. Rooney," Miss Adair said haughtily to the
+thick-skinned genius. "That--that situation is--was--is true, however."
+
+"Then it's your play all right!" declared Mr. Rooney. "The situation is
+all there is to any play. The staging is the rest. Anybody can put in
+good lines. Any simp can doll up the actors in costumes, and one actor
+can put the ideas across pretty near as good as any other, if he's
+directed all right; but when it's done, the play is the man's or woman's
+who made the first layout of the idea--and what the stage-manager does
+to it. Author and stage manager, I say. The rest is easy."
+
+"That's what I've been telling Miss Adair," Mr. Vandeford eagerly
+assented.
+
+"And authors ought to go off and die until the first night, too," Mr.
+Rooney continued to say. "When I staged 'Only Annie' for E. and K., I
+told that author if he came on my stage any more at rehearsals I would
+biff him one in the nutt, and I meant it, too. His thinks and mine ran
+into each other so bad that I was near crazed."
+
+"But an author writes a play and he or she knows--" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say to Mr. Rooney with kind patience, when he interrupted
+her as he rose to take his departure.
+
+"The author oughter write all he knows and let it go at that," he said
+as he spat on the carpet of the box with no sign of compunction. "The
+stage-manager can do the rest." And with no form of leave-taking he
+departed.
+
+"And the American drama has to be filtered through that sort of--of
+illiteracy?" Miss Adair turned and demanded of Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"The American drama is often written by people who have been too closely
+associated with books on a library shelf, so that it needs to be
+filtered through a little gross humanity to get across to--humanity in
+the gross, which pays to see it. If a scholar writes and produces a play
+scholars go to see it all right, but all the scholars in America only
+fill one theater twice, and then what is to become of scholar and wife
+and children, as well as producer, manager, and theater-owner?" Mr.
+Vandeford spoke slowly, choosing his words.
+
+"Aren't any of the stage-managers educated gentlemen?" demanded Miss
+Adair, with an interest that was fast becoming impersonal, for she had
+the wit to see that in some ways Mr. Vandeford's summary of the
+situation between author and stage-manager was sound.
+
+"Yes, a few, but not the most successful ones," answered Mr. Vandeford.
+"I tell you truly that a stage-manager has to be a genius to succeed. He
+must be a man with a vision and sheer brutality enough to put the vision
+that he gets from his conception of the play he is producing into
+twenty other mentalities and make them present the play as a harmonious
+whole to an audience. He cannot be a respecter of persons while he is
+pounding, and he must not be interfered with or his vision is obscured
+and the play loses. Do you see what I mean?"
+
+"Then an author ought to produce his own plays," Miss Adair decided very
+promptly.
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a whimsical smile down into the
+eager, pale, intensely creative face raised to his. "When an author is
+born who will study years until he is an expert electrician, other years
+in great studios until he can paint scenery that is a work of art, delve
+into old books until he knows costuming of thousands of periods in
+hundreds of lands and how to sketch it, then gives himself to the
+studying of stagecraft and the writing of half a hundred plays until he
+writes one that is really great; after which, if he has the strength and
+the nerves to produce that play, we will all go to see the great human
+drama. That is, if he has had time to live with and in the hearts of
+people so as to supply that gross sympathy with the masses who buy
+tickets which Rooney got while climbing out of the gutter. God grant he
+comes some day to America--but you are not he!"
+
+"No, I'm not," admitted Miss Adair, with her eyes smiling back into his
+whimsically, "but what you say makes me see that the--the
+producer--_you_ are the whole thing. You get it all--me and Mr. Rooney
+and Miss Hawtry together and pound us into--into a play. I make that
+acknowledgment."
+
+"If you ask the stage-manager he will say that the success of a play is
+his; the costumer will claim that success; the star knows it is his or
+hers, and the lead is sure that it is due to the support; the author
+surely has some claim to draw the huge royalties, and the location of
+his theater makes the theater-owner know that any play in that theater
+will go. Yes, the producer will always claim the whole show if it all
+goes well. If it fails the show then belongs entirely to the producer,
+who picked it in its manuscript stage, and he is no good as a producer.
+If he fails a few times hand-running, to the scrap heap with him!"
+
+"But you've never failed," Miss Adair exclaimed, with a dart of fear in
+her eyes.
+
+"My last show, 'Miss Cut-up,' was a flivver all right, though we just
+saved our faces. But I've got a show now that will put me in electric
+light for two years hand-running and--" Mr. Vandeford was in a panic as
+he realized that he was going so far in that curious thinking out loud
+to Miss Adair that he had been about to launch forth on "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" to her. It would have been like telling a friend the plans of his
+own funeral with enthusiasm, as it would be obvious to her that Hawtry
+would have to fail in and drop "The Purple Slipper" before becoming the
+triumphant "Rosie Posie Girl."
+
+"I'm willing to--to let them cut my play all up if--if it will really
+run two years and make your reputation more brilliant than it is," Miss
+Adair said, interrupting his pause of consternation at his near
+betrayal of his plans. She spoke with the worshipful uplift of her gray
+eyes to his that had betrayed him in the first place to such a confusion
+of schemes. "If it added anything to it, I would even be willing to let
+you put the Adair name to the vulgar thing they read here to-day, but it
+wouldn't help it anywhere except in Louisville and Cincinnati and
+Nashville and Atlanta and New Orleans and Richmond. People don't know us
+in New York, and any name will do here; so mine won't--won't have to be
+disgraced."
+
+"Please don't say that!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford with consternation in his
+soul as he thought of the development of the Howard "pep" Hawtry would
+make as the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" progressed. "It is the
+same thing with Miss Hawtry as it is with Mr. Rooney; she has a--a kind
+of gutter drag that gets across to the multitude, and of course your
+play had to be--be fitted to her. Hawtry, to be Hawtry, has to do and
+say things that you couldn't write at all, that you couldn't very well
+understand; but they'll get the crowd going and coming. Please give me
+your promise again to sit tight and see it through--or go home and leave
+it all to me." Mr. Vandeford was surprised to feel how hard his heart
+beat, and he was afraid that it sounded like the echo of an anvil chorus
+in the big empty theater.
+
+"I never have to give promises a second time, and this is the last time
+I am ever going to cry out," Miss Adair answered him, with a lift to her
+proud little head. "I am going to stay right here and help if I can, and
+learn. But I won't in any way distress or--or trouble you. Please don't
+get me on your mind!"
+
+"I won't get you on my mind," Mr. Vandeford answered out loud--"because
+I've got you in my heart, poor kiddie," he continued to himself, in a
+kind of desperation.
+
+Mr. Dennis Farraday burst in upon the dusk of the theater and the
+tragedy of the situation. He was vastly excited and he waved a letter
+in his hand.
+
+"Oh, you Patricia Adair, why didn't you tell me that you are old Roger
+Adair's sister?" he demanded.
+
+"Why, what do you mean about Roger? Do you know--"
+
+"Do I know him? Just listen to this, will you, and here I've _not_ been
+handing you around on a silver salver for two weeks!" He then read the
+following letter aloud to Miss Adair and Mr. Vandeford:
+
+ Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+ DEAR DENNY:
+
+ Well, here I am! I'm the Captain of my county in the Army of the
+ Furrows, and hope to turn in many thousand pounds of food stuffs
+ for you people in New York to live on. In the meantime Miss
+ Patricia Adair, my sister, is going to New York to see to the
+ putting on of a play she has written for one Mr. Godfrey Vandeford.
+ She is the greatest girl ever, and you stay right on the job seeing
+ that things go right for her while I plant these potatoes to keep
+ you from starving. She will be at the Y. W. C. A. and will sleep
+ and eat safe enough, but you look out for her and don't let her get
+ homesick. If she needs me, of course I will come, but she's a
+ plucky child and you are the best ever, so I'll go on ploughing
+ with a free mind. Let me know how it all goes. What sort of a chap
+ is that Vandeford?
+
+ Yours as always and forever,
+ ROGER.
+
+"Can you beat it?" demanded good Dennis, with a blaze of friendship in
+his eyes as he regarded Miss Patricia Adair. "It was forwarded from my
+old office number to my new, to Westchester to Nantucket, back to my
+office, and finally arrived this morning. I've just sent Roger a
+thousand-word telegram, and I hope he never knows that I was off the job
+ten days. Give that child here to me, Van, and go get a report on your
+character for me before you look at her again. Roger Adair is the best
+friend I've got on earth, next to you, and you'd better watch your
+step."
+
+"I like his steps," Miss Adair said, and again Mr. Vandeford felt
+uncertain as to that curious little flutter that was like a nestling of
+which he felt he was never to be certain and which Mr. Farraday did not
+seem to observe at all.
+
+"Didn't you know that Roger was turning you over to me, young lady? Why
+have you side-stepped me?" Mr. Farraday demanded of the young author, in
+a voice of great severity.
+
+"I thought that Roger was going to write to a Mr. Denny about me; and I
+didn't write to him that Mr. Denny hadn't come to take care of me
+because--because I was afraid he'd leave his work and come up to look
+after me himself. I didn't remember the Farraday part of your name at
+all. Roger always said 'Denny.'"
+
+"Well, I suppose I'll have to accept that excuse, as it sounds fairly
+reasonable; but I'd like to know, Van, why you have been keeping my
+child here in this musty old theater until past luncheon time when she
+must be both tired and hungry. Come out to Claremont to luncheon, both
+of you, this minute," Mr. Farraday both questioned and commanded, with
+pure delight in his voice and manner. "I'll go run the car around to the
+door, so you won't have to walk in the sun." And he departed as quickly
+as he had come.
+
+That night Mr. Vandeford lay stretched on his bed in a dark coolness,
+with his hands clasped over his eyes, when Mr. Farraday came in with his
+latch-key at twelve-thirty.
+
+"Denny?" he asked from the darkness as Mr. Farraday was tiptoeing past
+his open door, through which the southern sea-breeze was pouring, "'What
+sort of chap _is_ that Vandeford?'"
+
+"The telegram I sent read, 'the best ever.'"
+
+"Are you competent to judge me?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Good-night!"
+
+For an hour before this masculine version of a scene a feminine real
+thing was being conducted in the two little dotted-muslin-curtained
+cells at the Y. W. C. A. Miss Adair was telling Miss Lindsey "all about
+it," and sparks and tears both were in the atmosphere. The explosion was
+brought on by Miss Lindsey remarking to Miss Adair:
+
+"You know, honey lady, that play of yours is simply ripping, but it is
+not at all like--like what I thought it would be from hearing you and
+Mr. Farraday tell it."
+
+"It's not my play at all; it's Mr. Vandeford's. He got somebody to fit
+it to Miss Hawtry," replied Miss Adair, calmly, as she began to brush
+her dark, sleek mane.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Lindsey, in astonishment.
+
+"He just took the dinner situation in my play and got a man to make a
+new one out of it that is--is vulgar enough to appeal to the New York
+theater-goers. He let everybody put in anything they wanted to, instead
+of what I wrote. He left in a little of mine to compliment me. It's all
+right, because nobody would have gone to see my play if anybody goes to
+see--see his." Miss Adair went on calmly with the fifty-third stroke on
+her raven tresses, but her eyes were beginning to blaze.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford's a complete fool," was on the tip of Miss Lindsey's
+tongue, but she remembered her main chance, which was the favor of Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, and said instead: "I wish you would let me see a copy
+of the play as you wrote it. Have you one?"
+
+"I have, in my trunk, and I'll read it to you," answered Miss Adair, and
+in defensive pride she produced a copy of "The Purple Slipper," which
+bore the unexpurgated title of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," and
+proceeded to read it to Miss Lindsey, with both fire and tragedy in her
+voice.
+
+The operation occupied the two hours before midnight, and Miss Lindsey
+lay prostrate when it was finished.
+
+"Now, what do you think?" demanded Miss Adair.
+
+"I wish I could have had the making of it over, and for myself instead
+of Hawtry. That's no play as it stands, but there is a dandy one to be
+worked up from it that you--you--that would be like you," was the reply
+that Miss Lindsey gave as she looked out into distance, with glowing
+eyes.
+
+"Do you think that--that horrid play will be a success?" asked Miss
+Adair, with her voice sparkling.
+
+"I do," answered Miss Lindsey. "And it is curious that with all its
+changes it is still--still yours. There is a lot more of your stuff left
+than you realize, and the turns that--that Mr. Vandeford's playwright
+has given it are very clever. Lots of times he's just paraphrased your
+lines into Hawtryites. It will be interesting to see how much of you is
+left when we all come out of the wash for the first night."
+
+"I wish I were dead and buried!" she was surprised to hear Miss Adair
+confess, and there then ensued a downpour, which the hardier Western
+girl weathered for very love of the young Southern tempest in her arms.
+
+"I suppose I ought to go home, out of the way, but I'm going to stay
+and--and learn--and write another one all by myself," she finally
+sobbed, with returning courage, thus comforting herself with the resolve
+which every playwright who ever built a play has used to keep from going
+entirely mad during the rehearsals of his first play.
+
+"Just try to live until the New York opening, and then see how you feel.
+That is the way actors do to keep going during the awful grilling of the
+rehearsals and the road try-out," advised Miss Lindsey, with great
+soothing.
+
+"I will," promised Miss Adair, and turned her face on her pillow, to
+sleep, while Miss Lindsey took herself and her jar of cold-cream into
+her own cell.
+
+"I wish I had a chance at that play! What'll she do when she sees Hawtry
+and Height really in action in some of those scenes?" she murmured into
+her own pillow.
+
+The next morning Miss Adair rose, donned a most lovely home-spun linen
+gown, which was of an old ivory hue and which had been spun upon the
+looms of her great-great-great grandmother by that lady's slaves,
+crowned this toilet with the floppy hat covered with crushed roses she
+and Miss Lindsey and Mr. Farraday had purchased, and reported herself
+about an hour late at the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper," whose
+authorship she had repudiated. She seated herself in the dusk of the
+left stage-box and bared her breast for blows. They came fast and
+furious, but other breasts and heads beside her own suffered. Mr.
+William Rooney was in full action. The entire company was on the stage
+in the midst of the last ensemble bit in the first act, all talking and
+acting with blue booklets of lines in their hands.
+
+"Here you, Mr. Kent," roared Mr. Rooney as he rose from behind his
+table, at one side of which sat faithful Fido annotating his copy of the
+manuscript, "make up to that old lady like she was the last ham
+sandwich extinct and you knew you were going to be fed on alfalfa the
+rest of your life. Get her going, man, get her going! She's an old fool,
+and you know it, but you've got to have her plantation and slaves. You
+can keep a chorus-girl car in the garage if you just get her well
+fooled. Fool along, fool along!"
+
+"'I will write the message to your son, Madam Carrington, and dispatch
+it forthwith by one of my own black boys. Is my hand not ever ready for
+your service and my wit--and also my heart?'" declaimed Mr. Kent with
+satisfactory fervor, as he kissed Miss Herne's fat white hand.
+
+"Now blob, Miss Herne, blob!" directed Mr. Rooney, coming entirely from
+behind the table. "You are the fool of this show and don't let anybody
+get that away from you."
+
+"'I pray a blessing on your excellent friendship, Judge Cheneworth, and
+I will rest me content in--'" Miss Herne answered in a most excellent
+imitation of the helplessness of an old grand dame.
+
+"Break in there, Miss Lindsey, break in!" raved Mr. Rooney. "'Content
+in' is your cue. Grab it. Remember you are just the sister and only in
+the play to swell the list of actors on the program, so grab and keep
+a-grabbing if you want a place on the salary list. Now, everybody on at
+Miss Lindsey's lines and break up this drivel between the old birds."
+
+"'Mother, Rosalind bids me say to you that--'"
+
+"Crowd on everybody, crowd on, and keep things going! It will be nine
+o'clock by now, and we'll have to begin to feed the audience the hugging
+by a quarter to ten or they will go out and look elsewhere.--Say, Mr.
+Leigh, are your feet mates? You don't handle 'em even."
+
+Miss Adair rose and stole from the box to the stage-door, and looked up
+and down the street to see if Mr. Vandeford was approaching. She felt
+that she could not stand more alone. He was nowhere in sight, and she
+decided to walk around the block and see if the sun at ninety degrees
+would warm her chill. After this journey she returned to her post and
+found the box still empty. Mr. Vandeford had not arrived nor had Mr.
+Farraday, but she seated herself resolutely. She was just in time to
+witness a pitched battle between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Rooney.
+
+"If you are determined to walk through the scenes, Miss Hawtry, do it
+awake and not asleep!" stormed Mr. Rooney.
+
+"Very well," answered Miss Hawtry, but Miss Adair's heart warmed to her
+as she noted the contemptuousness in her manner directed toward her
+stage-manager.
+
+"Now see here, Height, you know that you want to get away with this
+woman before her husband gets back. You can't do it with kid gloves on.
+Spit on your hands, man, and grab her by the hair. You say: 'Rosalind, a
+strong man's love is a weapon which a woman can easily turn against
+herself with deadly outcome,' like you were begging her to go with you
+over to Ligget's for an ice-cream soda with crushed strawberries. Say it
+this way." And as she sat astounded Miss Adair heard a line that she had
+written in a sympathetic fervor of imagination and which was perhaps her
+favorite in the whole play, uttered by Mr. William Rooney with the most
+exquisite and manly feeling, while his homely, vulgar face and body were
+transformed into the same exquisiteness. A breathless happiness
+descended upon her, and she waited in it to hear the beautiful Mr.
+Gerald Height give utterance to it with the same art. Miss Hawtry
+brought her to earth.
+
+"Mr. Rooney," she said with an utter lack of appreciation or
+comprehension of the bit of high art that had flashed upon her, "it is
+in my contract with Mr. Vandeford that I rehearse my scenes alone with
+my support until the dress rehearsal."
+
+"Yes, I might have judged that from 'Miss Cut-up,'" Mr. Rooney answered
+her with a blow straight from his shoulder. "Give little sister her
+cue, Height, and let her run on to rescue you. God knows you need it!"
+
+"Mr. Rooney, I'll have you understand--" Miss Hawtry came to the center
+to continue her tirade, when Mr. Rooney struck the decisive blow.
+
+"Everybody on and begin the scene over!" he commanded right past the
+enraged star. "Take it up, Kent, with Miss Herne at 'I will write the
+message to your son,' and get her going, get her going!"
+
+At this forceful command the machinery of "The Purple Slipper" was set
+in motion, and swept Miss Hawtry off center and into her place for the
+time being.
+
+And despite herself Miss Adair was fascinated in watching the machine
+grind away, with now and then a spark from Mr. Rooney that took fire in
+the very core of her heart or brain or solar plexus--wherever "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind" had been conceived. Miss Adair did not know
+what it was that thus affected her, but she had got hold of her end of
+the psychic cord along which the author feeds the hostile stage-manager
+in such a manner that on the first night of a successful play they can
+say to each other with clasped hands and wet eyes, "Well done!"
+
+And while Miss Adair sat under the spell of Mr. Rooney, Mr. Vandeford
+sat in his big chair in his office and fought a battle for "The Purple
+Slipper" that resulted in a draw that filled him with anxiety.
+
+"I can find only one open booking in New York for October first, Mr.
+Vandeford, sir," Mr. Meyers was saying, with trouble settled in a cloud
+upon his broad brow. "I have it fairly good for the road for 'The Purple
+Slipper' until October first, and then it is a jump to Toronto or
+Minneapolis, which is into the grave."
+
+"I suppose that one opening on Broadway is Weiner's New Carnival
+Theater," Mr. Vandeford asked as though the question were useless.
+
+"You have it right," answered Mr. Meyers. "Still, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it
+is always failures that leave Broadway openings into which road shows
+can jump."
+
+"Until last year, yes, Pops, but now New York is so full of people with
+munition and war-contract money in their pockets that any show, no
+matter how rotten, that gets in a Broadway theater plays to capacity and
+stays. They'd go to 'The Old District Skule' because the doors were open
+and there is no other place to go. What are we going to do?"
+
+"I advise that you see Mr. Breit and trust to some very big failure to
+give you a place. It is that he will always give you a preference,"
+answered Mr. Meyers with little hope, but determination.
+
+"Yes, Breit will let me in if there is a squeezing chance, but Breit
+doesn't own a theater, nor do I, or you, Pops; and I don't blame the
+fellows who do own them for filling them with their own cheap companies
+and plays so as to get their buckets under the whole golden stream. Why
+give money away to any independent producer?"
+
+"Mr. Breit said that he had news that Mr. Weiner would open that New
+Carnival with a Hilliard show, name not given," Mr. Meyers added to the
+information already prepared for Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I'll see goose-grease frying out of him in Inferno before he gets it,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, coolly. "I know that is his game, but I'll put
+across this 'Purple Slipper' with Hawtry and keep my 'Rosie Posie Girl'
+until I get good and ready to let her play it. Then I'll produce it to
+the tune of a half-million dollars and not Mr. Weiner. I've never been
+squeezed, and I'm not going to have this rotten game beat me. I'll go
+over and see Breit and he'll jockey me a corner on Broadway, somehow.
+Back at three." And Mr. Vandeford walked out of his office as coolly as
+though not sizzling inwardly with anxiety.
+
+"I've got you next on the booking of about four-fifths of the theaters
+on Broadway, Van," said Mr. Breit, the booking king, as he and Mr.
+Vandeford smoked leisurely cigars in his big, cool office. "You should
+worry! E. and K. and S. and Z. are bound to pick some flivvers and in
+you go. Loaf on the road and lose money like a little man."
+
+"My contract expires with Hawtry if I don't present her on Broadway by
+September fifteenth."
+
+"That _is_ a bit of a pickle! But she won't have any show to jump into,
+and she'll compromise with you; won't she?"
+
+"She'll have to," Mr. Vandeford declared. "Coming down to Atlantic City
+to see 'The Purple Slipper' open two weeks from Monday, September
+twenty-third?"
+
+"I'll be there. Rooney says it is a go; says little genius amateur wrote
+it and Grant Howard 'pepped' it. That right?"
+
+"Yes. By!"
+
+An hour later, in the coolness and seclusion of the grill room of The
+Monks, Mr. Vandeford was imparting his predicament to his partner in
+the venture and adventures of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"And you are worrying about whether Miss Hawtry will stay by us for the
+few weeks we'll have to loaf on the road or even close while waiting for
+the New York opening?" questioned Mr. Farraday. "Say, aren't you a bit
+unjust in your judgment of her, Van?"
+
+"I know the whole tribe of actors, and you don't, Denny," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, over a tall glass of iced tea he was drinking; he didn't know
+exactly why, but the habit had grown on him lately.
+
+"Then why not try to put her under contract for those few indefinite
+weeks?" suggested Mr. Farraday, over his cup of hot coffee.
+
+"You talk as though we were dealing with sane people," answered Mr.
+Vandeford. "She's got us and she'll keep us guessing up to the last
+minute, and then put some kind of screws on. I have got to figure out
+the likely ones, to see what I can do to jam them."
+
+"Well, anyway, ask her. I think she'll stand by us. I know she will,"
+said Mr. Farraday, with both faith and conviction in his voice. "You do
+her an injustice, I say!"
+
+"I'm not going to make her any request or offer, Denny. I can't," said
+Mr. Vandeford, as he looked at the ice floating in his glass of tea.
+
+"Of course," assented Mr. Farraday, with pained sympathy in his big
+voice. "Would you like me to sound her out?"
+
+"It's half your show; go ahead. She probably knows the situation and has
+made her plans for the squeeze or double-cross, but you might try her
+out," consented Mr. Vandeford, with a shrewd glance at Mr. Farraday.
+"But I wish you wouldn't, Denny," he added, with a sudden glow of
+affection in his eyes. Then he was restrained from further remonstrance
+with Mr. Farraday by the thought of the author of "The Purple Slipper"
+and her plucky sticking by the play through the thick and thin of her
+disapproval of it. Again he offered up his big Jonathan as a sacrifice
+in hopes of improving the prospects of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+Mr. Farraday took Miss Hawtry into his confidence about the predicament
+of finding a New York theater for his play, "The Purple Slipper," that
+very evening, out on the veranda of the Beach Inn, where he had motored
+her by request for dinner after her fatiguing rehearsals, which she had
+made still more fatiguing for Mr. William Rooney.
+
+"And Van sent you to ask me if I was going to stick by?" she asked, with
+an effective quaver in her voice.
+
+"He felt that we had no right to--to tie you up for indefinite weeks,"
+said Mr. Farraday, constructing and temporizing at the same time.
+
+"Did you think as little of me as he did?"
+
+"No, by George, I knew you'd stick by us, and I said so!" Mr. Farraday
+exploded with genuine emotion.
+
+"Thank you. You know me after these few weeks better than he does after
+all these years of--" And the Violet bent her head on Mr. Farraday's
+nearest arm and began to weep softly. They were in a secluded corner of
+the veranda of the Inn, and the Violet raged at herself for having
+closed the complete seclusion of Highcliff for herself and her purposes
+by renting it to the Trevors when she had gone to town to the rehearsals
+of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+And as good Dennis Farraday had no valid reason, either within or
+without the law for not doing so, he put consoling and comforting arms
+about her, and exposed his wide, silk-garbed shoulder to the rain of her
+tears, which were not really raining. In his big heart there was the
+same comforting for this conspirator as there would have been for Mr.
+Vandeford's lawful widow, and he administered it with the same
+affectionate respect that he would have used to the relict.
+
+"You're a dear, wonderful little woman!" he was saying, when the voice
+of the Clyde Trevors was heard calling to them from around the veranda,
+and an oath rose in the Violet with such force that she almost allowed
+it to explode. Still she felt sure of her ultimate results.
+
+"You can count on me to stand by you and the play forever," she
+promised, and the hurried pressure of their lips in the soft, dark,
+sea-perfumed air was biologically inevitable.
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had woven a tangled web when he had let fall the
+purple letter on the purple manuscript and gone out recklessly to follow
+the hunch their juxtaposition implied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+The first two weeks of September spent in torrid New York were a strange
+period of time to have projected itself into the calm life of Miss
+Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Suddenly she found herself a cog
+screwed tight into a rapid-fire piece of machinery that was running at
+top speed night and day, by name, "The Purple Slipper."
+
+For long hours she sat in the coolness of that stage-box and held her
+breath while she threw her whole self into the building of the play,
+which so fascinatingly was and was not hers. And through all those
+hours, close at her side, between her and the big dim theater, sat Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with his arm across the back of her chair and his
+eager face close to hers and tilted at the same angle. Her slightest
+murmur or his lowest whisper caught and was answered, and they almost
+seemed to be breathing one breath, so absorbed were they in the destiny
+of their mutual adventure. Like all women of her kind, Patricia Adair
+had known men only through a cloud, which sex traditions had firmly held
+between her and them, and Godfrey Vandeford was the first man she had
+encountered since she had slipped outside of its deadening density into
+a world where men and women endeavored together first, and left their
+sentinel undertakings to a fitting secondary time and place. In all
+sincerity she accepted him as a co-worker and was as happy working with
+him as it was possible for a woman to be. She specially liked being
+beside him in the office, and watched him settle the details of the
+running the big machine smoothly, from the hiring of the property-man to
+the firing of three successive stage-carpenters.
+
+"Real eats, Mr. Vandeford?" the former had inquired one morning.
+
+"Brown-bread turkey, nice and tasty, good crackers, but soda-pop and so
+forth for booze. Remember, they've got to face it, we hope, many weeks;
+don't turn their stomachs so they'll all gag."
+
+"I see, sir, I see. I fed 'Maple Leaves' for two years, and they all et
+every night and gimme a purse when it closed to go to London."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+"Brown-bread turkey sounds nice. I'm hungry," said Miss Adair, as the
+good-providing property-man departed.
+
+"Pop is going to bring us a piece of pie and a bottle of milk from the
+automat," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he began putting busy stabs with
+the press pencil on a pile of papers. "I ought to send him to get Denny
+to motor you for a real feed in the cool somewhere, but I want you
+here." With perfect unconcern, he went on checking the list the
+property-man had left him. He had ceased trying to decide the meaning of
+the flutter which he was not sure Miss Adair really gave when she was
+pleased. He was too busy to think about anything but the rush and roar
+of the machinery of "The Purple Slipper," so he just kept Miss Adair so
+near him for all the waking hours of the day that he could have no
+occasion to have his thoughts distracted by worrying over just what
+might be befalling her. Day after day he extracted her from the Y. W. C.
+A. at ten o'clock A. M., fed her and Miss Lindsey coffee and rolls and
+berries just any place that they happened to see (often he even ate with
+the two girls in the big empty cafeteria at the institution), lunched
+with her in the same haphazard fashion, sought a cool and quiet spot to
+give her dinner, and a ride on a country road, turned her into the big
+safety at about eleven o'clock, and went to bed to sleep the sleep of
+the interestedly absorbed.
+
+The few evenings that Miss Adair spent with Mr. Gerald Height Mr.
+Vandeford did not find repose so early or with such ease. Also, his
+awakening on those mornings after was not so joyous, and he arrived at
+the Y. W. C. A. fifteen and twenty minutes too early upon each occasion.
+
+However, his time was well spent in chatting with the brisk young
+secretary, and his anxiety was entirely relieved each time by finding
+the look intact in the gray eyes raised to his in eager greeting after
+the prolonged absence of fourteen hours, when the usual separation was
+about ten.
+
+"We went out to a place called the Beach Inn last night, and whom do you
+suppose we saw there?" she demanded on one of the mornings after, over
+her bowl of halved peaches.
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Devil?" he asked, with a sparkle breaking through the
+frown with which he had instantly greeted her mention of that gay beach
+resort.
+
+"No; Miss Hawtry and Mr. Farraday. She wasn't nice to us at all, but Mr.
+Height says she always treats him badly when they are rehearsing
+together. I think Mr. Height is perfectly wonderful to her on the
+stage. He's so gentle and kind; but then he's that in real life, isn't
+he?"
+
+"Is he?" growled Mr. Vandeford over his corn-flakes.
+
+"Yes, and he's so just and fine in the way he speaks about everybody. He
+told me how poor Miss Hawtry used to be and how you pushed her along
+until she could buy that lovely house we passed, in which the Trevors
+are staying while she is in town. It is hard on you, too, not to be out
+there boarding with them and her instead of in this heat."
+
+"Did Height say that I--I boarded--out there?" demanded Mr. Vandeford,
+pushing his coffee-cup away from him with a sudden snap.
+
+"Yes, he said you stayed out there in the summer always, and--"
+
+"We're late," interrupted Mr. Vandeford, snapping his watch with the
+same temper he had used on his coffee-cup. "Bring that saucer of peaches
+along and eat it in the car."
+
+"I'll take an orange instead," assented Miss Adair, as with all
+good-nature and in all naturalness she deserted the last half of the
+rosy peach, took an orange from the bowl before her and stood up to go
+out to the car, which Valentine had parked in the shadow of the building
+opposite.
+
+"You kid, you!" scoffed Mr. Vandeford, with an ache in his heart, but
+thanksgiving for that same youthful unsophistication. "Height or
+somebody will get it all across to her, and then what'll I do?" he
+growled to himself as he followed her into the car.
+
+"And I saw that Mazie--Mazie woman there, too, with a terrible-looking
+man that has written ever so many plays that are successful." Mr.
+Vandeford was devoutly thankful that Mr. Grant Howard's name had not
+stuck in the consciousness of the author of "The Purple Slipper." "I--I
+was introduced to them too--because you know you said that I must--must
+accept broad standards, and I did--last night." Miss Adair looked away,
+but Mr. Vandeford could see that her little ears, set close against her
+small head, with their tips covered by a smooth band of hair, grew rosy.
+
+"What?" he gasped, uncertain as to what she meant.
+
+"Talked to that--that playwright and--and drank some champagne. I like
+cider better, but Mr. Height ordered it, and I thought--"
+
+Here the car stopped, and Valentine was at the door. Valentine never
+failed to be at the door instantly when Miss Adair was in Mr.
+Vandeford's car, because his French soul rejoiced within him for thus
+serving a grand dame.
+
+"Rooney is on the last lap of the last act, and then he'll begin to
+polish the whole for dress rehearsals," Mr. Vandeford said as he held
+the curtains of their box aside for her to enter.
+
+"And Mr. Height told me, too, that the Trevors had--"
+
+"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, becoming the stern producer, because he
+felt that he could stand no more of Mr. Height at the Beach Inn, though
+he began to listen intently to that same gentleman and Bébé Herne in the
+beginning of the great scene of the now authorless play. The anxieties
+passed from him, and in a moment he was in harness again with his author
+and running in perfect unison.
+
+"Cut it off, Height, cut it off!" commanded Mr. Rooney, and he ran his
+hands into his shock of black hair, which stood up all over his head
+like a black, sooty mop. "That scene needs something. It isn't big and
+simple enough. What did she say to him in your first layout, miss?" he
+demanded of Miss Adair, for the first time acknowledging to the company
+the presence of the author of their play at the rehearsals. "Can you
+remember?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the home-made color blazing in her
+cheeks and fires in her gray eyes as she rose in the box, and gave the
+six lines as she had written them. Her lovely, slurring, Blue-grass
+voice made the whole company smile with pleasure.
+
+"That's it! That's it! That's real people jawing and not a lot of smarty
+guff. Put that in, Fido, and write it in, Miss Herne," commanded Mr.
+Rooney, without any form of thanks to the accommodating and forgiving
+author.
+
+And truth to say the author of "The Purple Slipper" did not notice his
+omission. She was in such joy at having something of the "big scene"
+express what she had intended that she was clasping one of Mr.
+Vandeford's hands in both hers and holding on tight to keep from
+shedding tears of joy.
+
+"What did I tell you?" he asked, taking the two nervously clutched
+little hands into his warm, strong ones, unseen in the shadow of the
+box. "You keep getting things across to Bill by letting him ask you for
+what he wants. See?"
+
+"Yes, and I'm always glad when I do as you tell me," she whispered, with
+her lips almost against his ear as they both turned back to the stage
+and watched their machine begin to run on greased wheels. Mr. Vandeford
+thought of the Beach Inn, Mazie, the bottle of champagne, and Mr. Gerald
+Height, and groaned inwardly.
+
+The last week of the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" was a hectic
+rush, the like of which Miss Adair had never imagined. She had gone out
+again for the week-end to Mrs. Farraday's, up in Westchester, and this
+time Mr. Vandeford drove out on Sunday for tea and crape myrtle with Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, and, he was surprised to note again, Miss Mildred
+Lindsey. The day passed like an oasis in the midst of a desert storm,
+and Mr. Vandeford had the pleasure of making all arrangements for Mrs.
+Farraday, Mr. and Mrs. Van Tyne, and several other old Manhattaners, who
+had fallen under the spell of the young Kentuckian who had in an off
+moment perpetrated "The Purple Slipper," to go to Atlantic City the
+following week to be upon the spot for the opening of the play. Suites
+in the great new hotel were engaged by long-distance telephone,
+time-tables discussed, and trains settled upon by the time tea was over
+and the golden sun had let the twilight purple the rosy plumes of the
+huge myrtle hedges. In the dusk Valentine brought Mr. Vandeford's car
+from the garage and Mrs. Farraday's chauffeur drove out Mr. Dennis
+Farraday's beloved Surreness. Miss Lindsey said her farewell, and it
+again surprised Mr. Vandeford to see the gracious kiss Mrs. Farraday put
+upon the dusky red of the beautiful Western girl's cheek, while good
+Dennis stood smilingly by in the friendliest delight. Then a wistful
+sigh from the talented young author by his side claimed his instant
+attention.
+
+"What is it?" he asked, with no attempt to control the tenderness in his
+voice, though the dusk hid that in his eyes.
+
+"I want to go back to town with you," she answered him, with a little
+catch in her voice. "I feel so far away from you and--and IT, up here."
+
+"You shall," he answered, and turned toward Mrs. Farraday, who was
+coming across the grass towards them with a huge sheaf of myrtles for
+his car flower-baskets in her arms. "I wonder if you'll let me take my
+author back to town in a hurry to-night, Mater Farraday," he pleaded,
+with the affectionate smile in both his voice and eyes that he had
+learned to use in coaxing her since the days ten years ago when she had
+begun to mother him along with big Dennis. "I--I sorter--sorter need
+her."
+
+Mrs. Farraday looked at them both with a keenness under the affection in
+her glance, and then laughed merrily.
+
+"Yes, go with him, Patricia," she commanded. "I have lived through the
+week before the presentation of five plays for Van, and I think that it
+is only just that you should share that ordeal with me. He's impossible,
+and demands--everything. I gave him a perfectly new and wonderful hat
+that cost a hundred and ten dollars for the second scene of 'Dear
+Geraldine' right off my head at the dress rehearsal, and 'Miss Cut-up'
+did her dances on one of my most choice Chinese rugs. Now he's taking
+you from me. But go!"
+
+"Here's your wrap, still in the car, so hop in," commanded Mr. Vandeford
+hurriedly, as though he feared that Mrs. Farraday would withdraw her
+sympathetic permission. "Good-night, and thank you!"
+
+"Good-night, you two--two dear children," returned Mrs. Farraday, as she
+saw them off, after tenderly embracing Miss Adair and making plans for
+their future meeting. "How _lovely_ it would be!" she murmured to
+herself, with a lack of definition, as she went back to the stately
+house behind the tree, where windows were beginning to glow.
+
+For a long time the producer and his author were silent.
+
+"I hate it--and I love it," Miss Adair finally said, with her soft,
+slurring voice lowered almost to a whisper as Valentine sped them along
+the country road perfumed and dusky with the early night, though a
+silvery radiance proclaimed a chaperoning moon as imminent.
+
+"That is the proper way for an author to feel about a play one week
+before the opening," Mr. Vandeford assured her, with a laugh keyed to
+match her declaration. "It shows an entire sympathy with the poor
+producer."
+
+"Suppose, just suppose, that the producer had been anybody but you and I
+had had to stand all--" Words failed Miss Adair in imaging her plight as
+author to another producer than Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Any other producer might have done better than I have done for you,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered her, with a sadness in his voice that he himself
+had never heard before. And as he spoke he resolved to tell her the
+whole Hawtry situation, which was haunting him day and night; to begin
+with the purple, letter-manuscript hunch, which he had lightly taken up
+to spank Miss Hawtry for trying to double-cross him with Weiner about
+"The Rosie Posie Girl," and end up with the hopeless state of his
+feelings about herself. Miss Adair herself stemmed the confession which
+might have altered the fate of that good machine "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"You've made the whole horrible experience worth while to me, and I'm
+going to be a great playwright yet, just to make you--you proud of me,"
+she assured his sadness in the purple dusk, and this time Mr. Vandeford
+was so sure of the flutter that he reached out his hand and captured a
+part of it, a white, slim little hand that nestled into his as though it
+were not in any way aware of doing so. "I'm going to dinner with Miss
+Herne to-morrow night, so Mr. Kent can show me what is the matter with
+part of his costume for the third act, and then I'm going to coax Mr.
+Corbett to fix it over for him," she continued, speaking of the business
+of learning to be the great playwright she had promised him to become.
+
+"Er--er, did you say dinner with Bébé and--and Kent?" Mr. Vandeford
+stammered as a desperate opening for letting his author know just what
+she was doing in visiting that establishment without-the-law.
+
+"Yes, I know about them; Mildred told me, but I told her that I was
+going to accept the 'broad standard' that prevailed in my profession. I
+like both of those people a lot. What business is it of mine if they
+don't want to get married?" Miss Adair's voice was coolly unconcerned
+and professional.
+
+"Help!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, holding the slim little hand as if
+drowning. And indeed he did have a sinking sensation, which, strange to
+say, was relieved by a quick mental vision of the capable young woman at
+the desk of the great international safety.
+
+"And I know about Mr. Height's three divorces, and I think he is to be
+pitied instead of criticized for being so unfortunate and lonely.
+Mildred says she doesn't believe he is as lonely as he tells me he is,
+but I know he is. I asked Miss Herne to ask him to dinner, too, and she
+did," Miss Adair continued, thus making little stabs into Mr.
+Vandeford's vitals.
+
+And right there Mr. Vandeford paid the entire penalty for all his tilts
+against organized morality by feeling unworthy to take a beautiful,
+fragrant, adoring, confiding girl in his arms and telling her all he had
+learned of the tragic results of such tilts. His predicament was tragic,
+though unique. If he summed up these others, he sized up himself to her,
+and by what judgment he taught her to judge them she would judge him
+when the time came. If he taught her to turn from Kent or Height she
+would turn from him, when she knew him entirely, as she surely would
+soon. And, forsooth, how would he prove to her that he was a better man
+than the copper-headed tango lizard, Height, though he knew himself to
+be? And who was this girl, anyway, to come out of a little back-woods
+town where the standards of life were so narrow that all who could lived
+out of them in degrading secrecy, and make him feel himself unworthy
+when he had lived openly in a way about which his own conscience had not
+troubled him? Why did he hesitate to tell her about his affair with the
+Violet and his anxiety about her contract, and why should his face burn
+at the thought of telling her how he had coolly let his best friend in
+for the prospect of an affair with the star for the purpose of
+protecting her and her play? And why should the sex and business
+standards of his world be entirely different from those of hers or any
+other world! On the other hand why shouldn't they all double-cross and
+prey on and defame and applaud each other to their heart's content? Why
+should they care if they were judged by--? At this part Mr. Vandeford's
+bitter reflections were suddenly invaded by a perceptible collapse of
+Miss Adair's soft and proud young body against his, and a round, warm
+cheek fell against his silk-clad sleeve, as he perceived that his
+eminent author had plunged suddenly into the depths of healthy and
+innocent slumber, while he had been moralizing about her and the rest
+of the universe. He slipped his arm about her with cautious tenderness
+and made her comfortable, while he muttered to himself:
+
+"She's a white flame and, God willing, I'm going to keep her that!"
+
+During the next week the "white flame" burned high and bright while the
+author of "The Purple Slipper" threw herself into her place in the
+grinding of the machine that was to turn out a perfected play on the
+following Tuesday night at Atlantic City. Everywhere Mr. Rooney was
+tightening bolts and polishing surfaces until they glistened while he
+snapped and tried out all bands.
+
+Miss Lindsey was pale and quiet, but she acted her part to Mr. Rooney's
+entire satisfaction, though he never said so. Mr. Leigh's feet were
+still a target, and the glowering girl, Miss Grayson, was always
+tearful, but constantly improving. When the company was not being ground
+and polished, Mr. Corbett's tailors and dressmakers were fitting
+costumes, and the property man was checking over and over each demand of
+each and every person, from the fresh rose Mr. Kent was to give to Dame
+Carrington to the mud that was to be splashed every day upon Mr. Gerald
+Height's riding-boots for his last and triumphant entry. Miss Adair had
+lost all sense of the play as a whole and only thought of it as
+distracting and distracted bits. She had, of course, never witnessed the
+scenes between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Height, as they were still rehearsed
+in private and would be until the night of the dress rehearsal on Monday
+at Atlantic City. This was well.
+
+But one thing she kept with her through the whole strain; the sense of
+being one with Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and that one working for pure joy.
+
+As for Mr. Vandeford, his eyes sank back under his brows, and Mr. Adolph
+Meyers was with him far into every night.
+
+"How does the booking stand now, Pops?" Mr. Vandeford demanded on the
+Thursday night before the opening Tuesday.
+
+"Atlantic City next week, Wilmington and New Haven the next if need be,
+and--it is to Syracuse or Toronto we must jump, Mr. Vandeford, sir,"
+answered Mr. Meyers, with beads of perspiration on his high brow.
+
+"Violet will never make that jump, Pops. Her contract closes the day we
+open in Atlantic City, and there we'll close, too, if we haven't New
+York right in sight. What'll we do?"
+
+"It is many a show closed before it opened," Mr. Meyers said, with a
+wary look at Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"This show is going to open and never close--until it's had a thorough
+Broadway try-out, Pops," said Mr. Vandeford, quietly. "Anything from Mr.
+Breit?"
+
+"Nothing to hope for a Broadway opening before November first."
+
+"I'll pass the question up Friday, and then see what I'll do," Mr.
+Vandeford said slowly as if turning his back for the moment to
+something that stared him in the face.
+
+All Friday morning he worked with "The Purple Slipper" machine with a
+bitter defiance in his eyes that made Miss Adair keep close to his side,
+though she didn't understand her reason for doing so.
+
+"Is anything the matter?" she questioned, with her gray eyes stricken
+with alarm. The fear for her play in those gray eyes sent Mr. Vandeford
+into desperate measures. He asked Miss Hawtry to go to luncheon with
+him, and she graciously accepted.
+
+"Where do we get in on Broadway after Atlantic City, Van?" she asked as
+soon as she was served with her iced melon.
+
+"We get in all right," he parried, putting his spoon into his
+cantaloupe.
+
+"That's fine. I don't mind that Atlantic City week, but I'm glad I'm
+past ever doing the road again except to the Coast. They'll eat up 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' in Chicago and San Francisco." Miss Hawtry was
+deliberately declaring her intentions to Mr. Vandeford without saying a
+word about them.
+
+"I'm going to take 'The Purple Slipper' over to London before I take it
+West." Mr. Vandeford answered her declaration with another not put in
+words, but so well did he know the workings of her shrewd, small mind
+that he saw that the game was up unless he did what he must do. During
+the rest of their luncheon they talked about the Trevors.
+
+Straight from the Astor Mr. Vandeford walked into the office of Mr.
+Weiner.
+
+"Weiner," he asked, without any sort of preamble, "will you give a
+month's try-out of my play, 'The Purple Slipper,' in your New Carnival
+Theater from October first to November first, with a proper guarantee,
+and then an option on an unlimited run there if it makes good, for a
+half-interest in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' _without_ Hawtry?" Mr. Vandeford
+knew that he was offering Mr. Weiner a good thing, for the rights of
+"The Rosie Posie Girl" had been hotly contested by all the big
+theatrical managers on Broadway the winter before, and Mr. Vandeford had
+got them from Hilliard because of his success with "Dear Geraldine" by
+the same author. They had all coveted it because it was one of those
+combinations about the success of which there could be no doubt. In
+offering Weiner a half-interest Mr. Vandeford was aware that he was
+offering him at least a hundred thousand dollars, but Mr. Vandeford's
+hunch about the purple on purple was beginning to cost him dear, though
+at least a hundred thousand dollars did not seem too much to pay to keep
+the agony of failure out of a pair of sea-gray eyes that had trusted him
+the first time they had looked into his.
+
+"With Hawtry it goes; without Hawtry, no, Mr. Vandeford," was the prompt
+answer.
+
+"With Hawtry six months from now?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"It is that I have a weak heart, Mr. Vandeford, and I do not trade in
+futures," answered Mr. Weiner, with a spark in his black eyes.
+
+"You know my fix, Weiner; now what will you take for the New Carnival
+October first for my Hawtry show?"
+
+"I will trade that entire 'Rosie Posie Girl' manuscript, with all rights
+for that New Carnival Theater on October first, with option for the
+entire season, Mr. Vandeford," said Mr. Weiner, rolling his big cigar
+from one side of his mouth to the other.
+
+"Without Hawtry?"
+
+"I have a new Hawtry right now--in pickle," Mr. Weiner answered.
+
+"Will the New Carnival certainly be finished October first?"
+
+"Yes, to a certainty of a large guarantee."
+
+"How long will you give me to answer?" asked Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I have made an appointment with S. & K. to talk that New Carnival
+Theater for a show at five o'clock to-day, Mr. Vandeford. I will call it
+six o'clock for you," answered Weiner, as he turned the screw with all
+show of consideration for his fellow producer.
+
+"I'll be back at four-forty-five," Mr. Vandeford answered him, and with
+no further good-by took his departure.
+
+Arriving at his office, Mr. Vandeford directed Mr. Meyers that he was to
+have half an hour entirely undisturbed, entered his own office, and
+after a second's pause went into the little office that had been
+assigned to Miss Adair, the author, and sat down in the chair she very
+seldom occupied, but which was hers by tenancy. On the desk were a pair
+of silk gloves she had left there the day before, and in a blue vase
+were several roses in a good state of preservation, which he recognized
+as having come from a bunch Miss Adair had been wearing after having had
+luncheon with Mr. Gerald Height on Monday. These objects disturbed Mr.
+Vandeford vaguely. He put them out of his mind roughly and went into
+conference with himself sternly. Literally he was weighing the
+question.
+
+On one side of the balance he laid "The Rosie Posie Girl," which, with
+Hawtry, was sure to run on Broadway for at least two seasons and make
+for him a fortune that was indefinitely large and sure. Beside this, its
+production would insure him a position among the country's really great
+producers. The show was big enough in conception to admit of a
+spectacularly artistic treatment, which he had intended to give it so
+that it would place musical comedy on a plane upon which it had never
+stood before. He knew himself well enough to know that a real triumph of
+that kind once accomplished, he would want to turn to other fields of
+endeavor, and he could see his greater self standing patiently waiting
+for his lesser to be liberated by the process of climbing out of the
+very top of the theatrical profession.
+
+Sternly he turned from himself to the filling of the other pan of the
+scales in which he was weighing the question. He looked for something to
+put in to over-balance the certainty of "The Rosie Posie Girl," and
+found nothing but a vast uncertainty with many potentialities. "The
+Purple Slipper" was a play of no known classification, and with Hawtry
+in it was still less fish, flesh, fowl, or good red herring. And there
+was added the uncertainty of that week from the twenty-third to the
+first during which he had no legal hold on the fair Violet. He felt
+reasonably sure that the announcement that "The Purple Slipper" would
+open the big new Weiner theater, with all the clash of publicity which
+he could give to it, would hold her steady on her job, but as he laid it
+down on the scales, it had to be classed as an uncertainty. The fifteen
+per cent. seat sales based on Mr. Gerald Height's appearance in silk
+tights, velvet, and lace was about the only positive he had to lay in
+the scales, and that, of course, failed to tip them to any degree. For
+about fifteen minutes he sat perfectly rigid. Then he gently laid on the
+uncertain side of the scales the positive and concrete faith in a pair
+of sea-gray eyes, jeweled with tears, and watched "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" rise high as "The Purple Slipper" sank down heavily.
+
+After this he took a rose from the green vase, stuck it in his
+buttonhole, and went forth--into his own office. He there rang his
+buzzer for Mr. Meyers, and seated himself with the air of a man who has
+had a burden lifted off his shoulders rather than with the air of one
+about to give away half a million dollars.
+
+"Pops, 'The Rosie Posie Girl' is sold, lock, stock, and barrel, to
+Weiner for a month's try-out of 'The Purple Slipper' at the New Carnival
+Theater, good guarantee for that month, and an option on a run to the
+limit for eight-thousand-a-week houses. Get Lusky over the 'phone, and
+you and he have the contracts drawn as tight as wax by four-thirty."
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I must have a say that--"
+
+"No, Pops, don't say anything."
+
+"With a pardon it is that I think that Miss Adair is a very fine lady,
+and so also 'The Purple Slipper.'" With this incoherent pronouncement
+of sympathy and encouragement, though devastated at the loss of "The
+Rosie Posie Girl," upon which he had already spent many creative days,
+Mr. Meyers departed into the outer office.
+
+For a long minute Mr. Vandeford glared at the unoffending rose in his
+buttonhole, then smiled, ran his hands through his hair, turned to the
+telephone, and plunged into the last lap of the race of "The Purple
+Slipper." Until four o'clock he was closeted with the most brilliant
+theatrical publicity man in New York City; then he took his contracts
+and went over to Weiner's office and sacrificed "The Rosie Posie Girl"
+to--
+
+An hour later he had told his partner, Mr. Dennis Farraday, all about
+it, and showed him the deeds of execution.
+
+"You ought not to have done it, Van. It was too big a price to pay," Mr.
+Farraday declared, with his mane rumpled on high.
+
+"No," answered Mr. Vandeford, in happy calmness. "'The Purple Slipper'
+will pay it all out--one way or another."
+
+"It must," declared Mr. Farraday, with helpless energy. "What can I do?"
+
+"Oh, be the usual ray of sunshine around the place and--and keep the
+Violet happy and busy until we land on Broadway." Mr. Vandeford said
+this with a coldness in tone and voice that he had to force hard. His
+attitude was that he had had to sacrifice himself so why not sacrifice
+Mr. Farraday also? And he hated himself for that attitude.
+
+"I understand, and you can count on me," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+such an innocently happy face that Mr. Vandeford groaned inwardly at the
+fact that he did not understand, and would surely be made to soon if his
+calculations on the intentions of Miss Hawtry were correct.
+
+"I've arranged for a chair-car to take the whole company down to
+Atlantic City Sunday morning, so the whole bunch can have a plunge and a
+good rest-up before the Monday dress rehearsal." Mr. Farraday produced
+that piece of business with great pride.
+
+"Good!" was all the commendation that he got, and he betook himself off
+for other good-natured efforts on the affairs of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+Though at times Mr. Godfrey Vandeford approached the heroic in action,
+he was very human in reflexes and, having paid a price for the happiness
+of Miss Patricia Adair, he proceeded to partake of as much of that
+happiness as he could get hold of. He captured the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" after the rehearsals on Friday, which were the last before the
+dress rehearsal in Atlantic City on Monday night, because the cast of a
+play are, after all, so many human beings, who have to be given at least
+a day for such animal functions as packing trunks, closing apartments,
+dodging creditors, and severing home ties, and he carried her off to the
+country with the intention of having her all to himself for dinner at a
+little inn up Westchester way. After they had started in that direction
+and were flying behind Valentine along sun-gilded country lanes, he
+changed his mind, changed the road slightly, and had them landed under
+the wing of Mrs. Farraday for dinner. He did this with direct intention.
+He judged himself, and decided that it would be safest to announce to
+Miss Adair that her play was to have the honor of opening the great New
+Carnival Theatre on Broadway somewhere within two hundred yards of Mrs.
+Farraday. This program he carried out with efficient directness and then
+found a strange lacking in himself.
+
+"Oh, how wonderful you are!" was Miss Adair's exclamation when he had
+imparted his news just as a young moon was silvering the poplar under
+which they sat on an old stone bench at the bottom of the sunken garden.
+"Everybody has said that you couldn't do it, but I didn't worry at all
+like the rest of them. I knew that you could."
+
+"How did you know that I could do it?" he asked, and he rejoiced with
+pride that his author did not yet know of either the existence or his
+sacrifice of "The Rosie Posie Girl."
+
+"Why, I don't know--I knew just because I--I--" For the first time Mr.
+Vandeford was absolutely certain of the flutter towards him, and at the
+same time felt certain that he was the first man who ever had been
+certain of it; and just as his breast and arms were hollowing themselves
+to nest it he--denied it and himself. He didn't want it at a purchase
+price, and he took Miss Adair home and locked her in the Y. W. C. A.
+before midnight.
+
+The journey down to Atlantic City on Sunday morning was accomplished
+with much joy and hilarity. The entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+acted like boys and girls let out of school, and mischievous children at
+that. Miss Adair enjoyed it all immensely, and at times she very timidly
+joined in the fun, which was centering itself upon putting Mr. Leigh of
+the uncertain feet, and Miss Grayson, the glowerer, into white ribbon
+bonds, which bonds were supplied from a large box of bonbons, the
+identity of the donor of which she refused to reveal, though Mr. Kent
+declared he had brought her to the station in a gold limousine with
+diamond wheels, and bore the name of Billy Astorbilt.
+
+Only Miss Hawtry held aloof, as she and her maid and various pieces of
+ultra luggage occupied the four seats at the end of the car. The seat
+next her was kept vacant, and at various times during the several hours'
+run Mr. Vandeford, Mr. Height, and Miss Adair occupied it with
+respectful tribute, but most of the time Mr. Farraday sat considerately
+beside her, and smiled upon the fun. Mr. William Rooney and Fido rode in
+the day-coach and worked the entire way on duplicate prompt copies.
+
+Also Mr. Rooney and Fido were absent that evening from the dinner-party
+given by Mr. Farraday in the great new hotel to the entire cast of "The
+Purple Slipper"--in honor of Miss Hawtry. They were working with the
+stage-carpenter, the property-man, and the electrician until a late
+hour, when they met the members of the dinner-party in pairs in
+wheel-chairs being trundled along the board-walk for sea air before
+retiring.
+
+"Hope the angel gave the bunch enough drink to keep 'em asleep until
+two-thirty to-morrow," Mr. Rooney remarked to Fido as he spat out into
+the Atlantic Ocean. "I'm going to put the gaff to 'em to-morrow night,
+and I want to start with 'em unstrung and string 'em to suit myself.
+That little author is some girl, but I wonder why Vandeford wanted to
+shunt that white devil onto a nice boob like Farraday, and him his
+friend, too," he further remarked as he watched the star and the angel
+being trundled by in one of the big wicker perambulators that infest the
+board walk.
+
+In the other direction were being trundled the author and the producer
+of "The Purple Slipper," and at that moment they were in the mood of
+fellow-workmen at the machine of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"Rooney sent me word that the lighting is doubtful. This rotten little
+theater is hard to count on for any kind of unusual lighting, and we
+must have that diffusion for the dinner scene so as to make the candle
+effect seem real," Mr. Vandeford was saying with great animation to Miss
+Adair and with a total lack of sentiment under the same young moon that
+had baffled him Friday night out in Westchester.
+
+"The whole thing seems a confused jumble to me," admitted Miss Adair. "I
+feel as if I couldn't wait until to-morrow night to really see the play
+with the costumes and scenery and love scenes and all in the right
+place. And yet I'm so tired I feel as if I could sleep a week."
+
+"I'll shake you if you go dead on me here as you did the other night in
+the car," threatened Mr. Vandeford, with a laugh, but he adjusted his
+shoulder back of hers as if he considered the danger entirely real.
+
+"I'll certainly do it if you don't take me back where I belong, wherever
+it is," threatened Miss Adair. "I hope Mildred isn't as--as tired as I
+am and--and can help me. I'll go to bed with my clothes on if she
+doesn't," Miss Adair gasped between yawns, and fluttered to Mr.
+Vandeford with a frank intention of gaining support.
+
+"Back to the hotel, boy, and go a good pace. Double tip," commanded Mr.
+Vandeford to their propelling Italian youth, with an alarm which puzzled
+him as much as it would have puzzled many of his friends, while he
+accorded his exhausted author the amount of support needed for the
+occasion--and no more.
+
+And as Mr. Rooney had hoped, the entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+slept into the afternoon of the dress-rehearsal day in the complete
+collapse which the sea air induced, and they were in a good condition
+for restringing. In fact, some of them began that process for themselves
+by an afternoon plunge in the ocean.
+
+One of those plunges had an after-effect on the fate of "The Purple
+Slipper" further than keying up Mr. Gerald Height for his dress
+rehearsals. When he discovered, while detaining Miss Adair for a chat
+after his late luncheon, that the author had never beheld the sea before
+in all her inland existence, and had never been in it, he insisted on
+procuring a bathing-suit and initiating her into that sport. She
+assented to the proposition with the greatest eagerness, and in less
+than half an hour she had trusted herself to the arms of Mr. Gerald
+Height and the Atlantic Ocean. They were both rough in their handling,
+and finally she came to resent the boldness of the former as much as she
+enjoyed that of the latter. With crimson in her cheeks and lightning in
+her eyes, she first attempted to drown them both, then waded to shore,
+sat down on the sand, and said things to Mr. Gerald Height, which had
+the magic effect of making him unburden himself and his lizard-like
+career to her in its entirety.
+
+"You see, I didn't know what a girl who--who wrote your play was like
+exactly, and because I couldn't find out I have kept on trying.
+Now--now, by George, I know," he said, with a boyishness coming into his
+murky eyes. "Say, you know my mother was a Kentucky girl, and I guess
+that is one reason I have stuck by this fool--this 'Purple Slipper.'
+That and wanting to chase you down."
+
+"Well, now that you've 'chased me down' and found that I'm not--not
+there, you'll stay by me and 'The Purple Slipper,' won't you?" Miss
+Adair asked, and then like two merry children they both laughed at her
+jumble.
+
+"I will," answered Mr. Height, with the queer attachment in his heart
+that a man feels for a perfectly good woman who is jolly and friendly
+with him after she has allowed him to tell her just how wicked he is or
+thinks he is. "I thought the whole thing was a flivver, but when
+Vandeford got the opening of the New Carnival for it, I sat up and took
+notice. Just you watch the stuff between Hawtry and me put a line a mile
+long from the box office."
+
+"I'm wild to see you and Miss Hawtry in your scenes, and we must go to
+dress for early dinner. The rehearsals are called for six-thirty. Thank
+you for--for being my friend." As she rose from the sand Miss Adair held
+out her hand to Mr. Height, with the friendliness and confidence in her
+eyes that had smoothed over other rough, though not so rough, places of
+the same character in her young life.
+
+"That's some kid and there are lots like her. I've got to halt sooner or
+later," Mr. Height muttered to himself as he dressed for his early
+dinner. "I'm going to put this fool play across for her, too." There are
+a few women who distill loyalty out of declined passion; but not many.
+They make their mark on their generation.
+
+The dress rehearsals of a play are varied in finish and intensity, but
+the variety which Mr. William Rooney conducted was of the most
+brilliant, and he expected them to go as well as the opening night. He
+made small allowance for the strangeness of lights, scenery, and
+costuming, and that allowance was only for time, not in smoothness. As
+he willed, his cast generally performed. The cast of "The Purple
+Slipper" was of experienced actors, and he felt certain that they would
+meet his expectations. At six-thirty o'clock he seated himself in the
+middle seat of the sixth row center, looked around to see that the
+electrician and the costumer were at hand to catch any criticism he
+wished to make, and in a crisp hard voice that exploded like a cannon he
+called up the curtain.
+
+The author was at her post in the left stage box, and bulwarked and
+buttressed by the producer as usual, while Mr. Dennis Farraday, the
+angel, sat alone in the box opposite, with a delighted smile on his
+broad face.
+
+The curtain went up, and "The Purple Slipper" glided on the stage with
+never a creak or a careen. The lights scintillated and glared on the
+wonderful costumes and scenery, and the sparkling dialogue began to
+unwind itself into the startling plot. For the first ten minutes the
+author glowed with such joyous excitement that the producer felt the
+actual radiations; then little by little he felt her begin to cool, and
+a chill ran up and down his own spine as Hawtry and Height held the
+stage alone in the first dash of Howard-"pepped" dalliance near the last
+of the first act. He held his breath, frozen within him, until the
+curtain went down, and then he refused to turn to the author at his
+side. He was in a panic and undecided what to do until Mr. Rooney
+relieved him of the need of action.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford," he commanded from the middle of the theater, "get New
+York on the wire and have Lindenberg start a good scenery man out on the
+early morning train. That back-drop must have a toning wash: it jumps
+out at the costumes. Lindenberg is in his office until seven to get a
+message from you. It's ten to now. You gotter jump."
+
+Without a look at Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford "jumped," and thus she was
+left alone to watch the second act grind along to its climax, with
+Hawtry acting the high-bred virago with an extremity of brilliant
+sensuality, with Mr. Height supporting her in broad lines that could be
+well-read between. Once the author looked at Mr. Dennis Farraday in the
+box opposite, and then looked away from his blazing enjoyment of the
+startling climax, which the lovers acted in such beauty of body, and
+such beauty of execution that, without knowing why, she was thrilled
+from her head to her feet.
+
+"Broad standards," she whispered to encourage herself, as her eyes shone
+and her cheeks glowed as she lowered her head and re-read the proof of
+the program to be used on Tuesday night, which Mr. Vandeford had given
+her and upon which she observed the name Patricia Adair in type only
+slightly smaller than that of Violet Hawtry. In a few minutes the
+curtain was again called up; Mr. Vandeford was still absent, and again
+her attention was riveted to the stage.
+
+Almost the entire first half of the last act was hers, and the tension
+in her glowing young body had relaxed and she gave Mr. Vandeford a
+semblance of a smile as he seated himself beside her just before Hawtry
+came on the scene to lay with Height the foundation of the great dinner
+scene. This hurdle was held firmly in front of the young author.
+
+Miss Hawtry entered in a blaze of eighteenth century glory, only with
+her authentic costume cunningly contrived to reveal more of her
+wonderful white body than any woman of that period would have done, and
+beautiful in his velvet and ruffles, Gerald Height followed her to
+thereupon enact a scene which was a slow and marvellous distilling of
+the very wine of emotion intended to go through human blood like a
+stinging poison. It had reached its climax, and even the emptiness of
+the theater was breathless when, like a whip, Mr. Rooney's cold voice
+brought Miss Hawtry out of Mr. Height's arms.
+
+"Cut it, cut it!" he commanded. "You couldn't get that across even on
+Broadway. The censor will close the show. Play it fifty per cent. and
+then all the subway will quit you."
+
+"I'll play it as I choose, you black monkey, you, with your Irish name."
+Maggie Murphy sprang out from the body of the beautiful Hawtry to answer
+back gutter with gutter.
+
+"Wait a minute, Miss Hawtry." Mr. Vandeford rose in his box from beside
+the author of the violent scene that was becoming a basis of a scene of
+violence. "Rooney, it can be played with--"
+
+"You sit down and help your bread-and-butter baby hide her face for
+writing such rot instead of trying to tell me how to act." Maggie was
+now commanding the Violet, and she was wild with nervous rage. "She's
+welcome to you; five years of your living off me and my work is enough,
+and I don't intend to--"
+
+"Back to your lines on which Miss Hawtry enters, Miss Lindsey,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney, in his machine-gun manner. "Get ready for your
+cue, Height."
+
+Completely ignoring Miss Hawtry, who was standing down center, Mildred
+Lindsey calmly entered and began the beautiful little bit of persiflage
+with Miss Herne, who had gone on before her with an agility unlike her
+usual slow gait. There was nothing for Miss Hawtry to do but retire to
+the wings, which she did, and with the nervous bomb exploded, she
+continued the rehearsals to a finish with the greatest brilliancy,
+playing the interrupted scene at fifty per cent. of its fire, as
+directed by Mr. Rooney.
+
+But the author of "The Purple Slipper" was not there to see the ending
+in calm after the storm, for she had fled at the Violet's attack upon
+Mr. Vandeford, and while he stood his ground to see the matter settled
+in the face of the insult, she had vanished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+At twelve-thirty Mr. Rooney was still in the theater with his
+property-man and his electrician, but just before one he left through
+the stage-door.
+
+"All over, old man, you can put out your lights, lock up, and beat it,"
+he said to the old gentleman who had sat year after year and kept the
+gates of his Inferno.
+
+"Star still in her dressing-room, gent with her," the old keeper
+answered, as he leered at Mr. Rooney, and accepted the big black cigar
+offered him.
+
+"Big, red-headed chap with the show?" Mr. Rooney questioned carelessly.
+
+"Same," admitted the old keeper.
+
+"Cuss her," Mr. Rooney remarked, without either special interest or
+malice, and took his leisurely way to his hotel.
+
+The star dressing-room at the little Atlantic City theater, in which
+half the plays produced on Broadway first try out their charm, is larger
+than the dressing-rooms in most of the modern theaters, and dainty
+Susette always made any dressing-room which happened to serve Miss
+Hawtry look more like a boudoir than seemed possible, by taking thought
+to have silky rose curtains to adjust over costume-racks and windows,
+with covers to match to be slipped over the couple of rough chairs
+usually supplied dressing-rooms. A fillet covering large enough for any
+dressing-table, the silver and ivory of the make-up outfit, and lights
+shaded with the fillet over rose were about all the equipment that the
+French girl carried in the top of one of Miss Hawtry's costume trunks,
+but she managed an effect with them that many a Fifth Avenue decorator
+might envy. Following instructions, she had put all in exquisite order
+and left the theater before Miss Hawtry was off the stage. The Violet
+had been obliged to send her summons to Mr. Dennis Farraday by the old
+door-keeper; hence his knowledge of her manoeuvers.
+
+Miss Hawtry was still encased in the magnificence of the costume for the
+final scene of "The Purple Slipper," and in the rose light of the little
+dressing-room she glowed like a fire-hearted opal as Mr. Dennis Farraday
+entered with the great hesitation of a first appearance in a stage
+dressing-room. His face was pale and serious. Miss Hawtry had seen that
+her Maggie Murphy insult to Mr. Vandeford had apparently cut more deeply
+into the big Jonathan than into Mr. Vandeford himself, and she had
+realized that she must set her scene well and act quickly and with
+daring if she accomplished her purposes.
+
+"Forgive me--and comfort me. I have hurt myself more than I have hurt
+him," she cried out as she turned to him and expelled two sparkling
+tears from her great blue eyes, and held out bare, white, glorious arms
+to him, with the sob of a repentant child caught in her throat.
+
+Now, Mr. Dennis Farraday, great gentleman and the son of a line of
+gentlemen, was in the same state that many another good man and true
+would be in after witnessing "The Purple Slipper" as played by Miss
+Hawtry in her compelling animality, and his angry eyes suddenly blazed
+with another light than anger, as with a hard breath he admitted the
+big, beautiful, treacherous cat into his arms and allowed her bare arms
+to coil around his neck and her body to cling to his.
+
+"How could you--how can you?" he asked, and the question on his lips
+made them cold, and kept them from hers--long enough.
+
+Mr. Vandeford stood in the dressing-room door without so much as rapping
+for permission to enter, and his face was dead white while his eyes
+blazed in a great terror. He seemed not to notice the purport of the
+scene he had interrupted, but his voice cut into the situation like cold
+steel.
+
+"Denny, we can't find Miss Adair anywhere, and here's a note she left
+Miss Lindsey. What do you make of it?" He handed Mr. Farraday a sheet of
+hotel note-paper, which he took with a trembling hand while Miss Hawtry
+shrank back against her lace-covered dressing-table and gathered her
+forces to annihilate Mr. Vandeford. This was the note, which Mr.
+Farraday read with one glance, but failed to read to Miss Hawtry,
+because its few lines struck all consciousness of her existence entirely
+from his mind.
+
+ _Dear Mildred_:
+
+ Dishonor has never smirched the name of Adair until I put it on
+ that theater program. I have branded the annals of my family, and I
+ never want to look into a human face again. Good-by. You've been
+ good to me.
+
+ PATRICIA.
+
+"My God! What do you suppose she means?" Mr. Farraday gasped, as he
+looked in abject terror at Mr. Vandeford, who returned his glance in
+kind.
+
+"And I promised Roger to take care of her," Mr. Farraday gasped, and
+without so much as a glance at Miss Hawtry, both men departed with all
+the rapidity possible. There must be some reason that all bonds
+without-the-law are so brittle, and those of friendship and honor and
+love so strong within the code.
+
+Miss Hawtry did some rapid thinking, as unaided, she slipped from the
+costume of the star of "The Purple Slipper" into her normal raiment and
+character. Then she called a wheel-chair and had herself trundled to the
+hotel. While she was propelled, many other wheels were turning and
+turning fast.
+
+"What does Miss Lindsey think is the matter, and where she is?" Mr.
+Farraday questioned Mr. Vandeford as they strode along together down the
+board-walk towards the hotel.
+
+"She says it's that rotten scene between Hawtry and Height that's killed
+her, and she is right. I felt her die right there by my side," Mr.
+Vandeford answered.
+
+"You two don't think she would really put an end to--to herself about a
+play, do you?" demanded Mr. Farraday, and he fairly staggered as he
+asked the question. Then not waiting for an answer, he began to run
+toward the entrance of the hotel half a block ahead. Just as he was
+turning into the doors with Mr. Vandeford closely following, an Italian
+wheel-chair boy darted out of the dusk of his stand, and plucked the
+latter by the sleeve; then together they went racing back the way Mr.
+Vandeford had come.
+
+Half way down the long arbor, dusky under its vines, Mr. Farraday met
+Miss Lindsey, and in the subdued light they paused and looked into each
+other's faces; then entirely to the surprise of them both, they went
+into each other's arms and clung together like two frightened children.
+Miss Lindsey was smothering sobs which made her tender breast storm
+against Mr. Farraday's, in whose own a heart was racing with terror.
+
+"I don't blame her; it was loathsome, and it was about her own
+grandmother," Miss Lindsey managed to say in a fierce, beautiful voice.
+
+"You don't think, do you, that--" Mr. Farraday was gasping as he held
+Miss Lindsey still tighter against the racing heart, which was beginning
+to slow down and pound against hers with a slightly different speed.
+However, the terror in his voice made Miss Lindsey press him to her with
+sustaining closeness.
+
+"She's Southern and different, and I don't know what to think," she was
+saying, and in the absorption of their terror they failed to notice that
+Miss Hawtry passed them not six feet away in her wicker chair.
+
+And while they clung to each other and enjoyed their fright and anxiety
+together, Miss Hawtry went into the telephone-booth and got a
+long-distance connection with Mr. Weiner in New York in an incredibly
+short time. Their conversation was almost as incredibly short in view of
+its portentousness, but while it lasted, Mr. Gerald Height and Mr.
+William Rooney had been added to the group of anxiety under the arbor,
+and they were all in close conclave, though not in embrace, when Miss
+Hawtry returned to them, walking with cool determination in every step.
+
+"Mr. Farraday," Miss Hawtry said, with a serenity in her rich voice and
+manner, "I will have to tell you as Mr. Vandeford's partner in 'The
+Purple Slipper' that I am entirely dissatisfied with the way the play
+proves up at dress rehearsal and refuse to open in it. As I am under no
+contract to him since Saturday night, I am motoring back to New York
+to-night to begin rehearsals to-morrow in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' for Mr.
+Weiner. Good-night!" With a stately curtsy to the assembled principals
+of "The Purple Slipper," very dramatic in execution, the Violet bowed
+herself away from them forever. Ten minutes after she was on her way
+back to Manhattan in a big touring-car provided by the hotel management
+per a telephone order from Mr. Weiner of New York.
+
+"And Van sold 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' for her opening on Broadway in the
+New Carnival Theater with 'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Farraday gasped as
+he sat down suddenly on one of the benches in the dim little arbor.
+
+"Lord, what a lose, both shows and maybe--maybe Miss Adair, too," Mr.
+Gerald Height exclaimed, and there were both sympathy and anxiety in his
+voice.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Rooney, as he rolled his fat cigar from the
+left of his mouth to the right and spat into the vines. "I've made a
+pretty good play out of 'The Purple Slipper.' It will go all right
+without her. Actors aren't so much. It's the situation and the
+stage-managing."
+
+"That's what you think," jeered Mr. Gerald Height, gloomily. "I always
+had a hunch that I would never play wig and ruffles."
+
+"Can that hunch," commanded Mr. Rooney. "I'm going to put Miss Lindsey
+in the part and play it refined for a winner. Been understudying Miss
+Hawtry, haven't you, Miss Lindsey?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Lindsey, and a sudden radiance shone from her dark,
+intellectual face that lit up the whole arbor and lighted a flame in the
+creative hearts of both Mr. Gerald Height and Mr. William Rooney. And
+what it lighted in the hearts of both of those gentlemen was nothing to
+the blaze it fanned in the heart of Mr. Dennis Farraday, where it had
+been smouldering along from a spark touched off the day of the beefsteak
+and mushrooms. "If you'll help me play it as I have seen it all along,
+Mr. Rooney, I can go on to-morrow night."
+
+"Good," agreed Mr. Rooney. "I'll shove Miss Grayson up into your part,
+and cut out hers until we get a girl. We'll get the little author busy
+right now, blotting out the Hawtry smell and putting you in, as I say,
+refined and--"
+
+"Oh, but where _is_ she?" moaned Mr. Farraday, coming back to his agony
+of uneasiness, which had been drugged by hearing and seeing "The Purple
+Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford's fortunes rescued and reconstructed right
+before his ears and eyes.
+
+"There ain't but two places for a refined lady to run in Atlantic
+City,--the railroad station and the ocean,--and I bet Mr. Vandeford is
+lugging her from the railroad station right now," Mr. Rooney said with
+easy conviction. "Course she'd dodge back to the Christian ladies home
+the first mud-puddle she stepped into, but we'll set her on her feet and
+rub the splashes off her white stockings and--"
+
+Mr. Rooney was interrupted in his kindly flow of reassurance by the
+appearance of a wheel-chair propelled by the shrewd Italian youth, who
+had that evening made his individual fortune, in which sat Mr. Vandeford
+and the author of "The Purple Slipper." Without command, he stopped
+beside the group of friends, and Mr. Vandeford alighted, but Miss Adair
+shrank back into the shadow of the perambulator.
+
+"Oh, darling, listen," cried Miss Lindsey, as she reached into that
+retreat and drew Miss Adair into her arms. "Miss Hawtry has thrown up
+the part and gone back to New York, and I am going to act it for you
+just as you and I have talked about it all this time. Mr. Rooney is
+going to help us, and we--we are going to make good for you--and Mr.
+Vandeford--to-morrow night. We are!"
+
+"Just watch us, Miss Adair. I'll do my best, and I'll--I'll be like we
+talked the other day," Mr. Height said as he came to the other side of
+the wicker retreat of the hunted author. Something in his voice made Mr.
+Dennis Farraday put his arm around the lizard's shoulders, a thing he
+would not have thought of doing a week ago.
+
+"We are all going to stand by, little girl, and it'll be some play that
+we produce at the New Carnival October first," Mr. Farraday put in by
+way of his contribution to the wounded young author.
+
+However, it was the crack of Mr. Rooney's whip that brought her to her
+feet again.
+
+"Miss Adair, you and Lindsey come back with me to the theater now," he
+commanded the shrinking and tragic author. "Somebody get Fido and tell
+him to wake up everybody and have 'em all at the theater to rehearse in
+a hour; that'll be three o'clock. Mr. Vandeford, you'd better get in a
+press story over long distance before Hawtry beats you to it. You may
+catch a morning paper or two. Now, everybody get out and work like fun
+and we'll show Broadway a sure-fire hit October first."
+
+"Can you do it, Bill?" Mr. Vandeford asked in a quiet voice. It was the
+first time he had spoken since he had coolly and silently picked Miss
+Adair up off a bench in the little railroad station and put her into the
+sympathetic young Dago's one-man-power conveyance.
+
+"I can take ten yards of calico, a pot of red wagon paint, and a pretty
+gal and make a show to fill any theater on Broadway for six months--if
+I'm let alone," answered Mr. Rooney, with the assurance that moves
+mountains. "That Lindsey is one good actor with common horse-sense, and
+the little author filly has Blue-grass speed. Watch us!"
+
+"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, and steel sparks struck out in his keen
+eyes as he turned and went rapidly to one of the long-distance telephone
+booths with which all Atlantic City keeps up its intimate relations with
+New York. It was also astonishing how quickly he got his connection with
+a great New York morning paper and was put on the desk wire of one of
+the junior editors, who was a good friend in need.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Hello, Curt. Godfrey Vandeford speaking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"With my show in Atlantic City. Can you get a note across in the morning
+issue?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Good! Spread it that Hawtry is put out of 'The Purple Slipper' cast to
+give place to a new Pacific Coast star, Mildred Lindsey. Hawtry handed
+it to Denny and me rotten, but put that under pretty deep, with Lindsey
+blazed in top lines. I'll have my publicity man send you a special
+Lindsey Sunday story. Hot stuff."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Thanks, old man! By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Another fifteen minutes was spent in long distance communication with
+Mr. Meyers, and it was ten minutes after three o'clock in the morning
+when Mr. Vandeford slipped into his chair beside his author in the
+little Atlantic City Theater, which Mr. Rooney had induced the old night
+watchman door-keeper to open up at the hour when all teeming Atlantic
+City is in the depths of repose. Mr. Rooney had with him the entire cast
+of "The Purple Slipper," to whom he had just finished explaining the
+cause of their extraction from their well-earned repose.
+
+"Most of the Sister Harriet scenes are with me," Miss Bébé Herne was
+saying, with efficient energy fairly radiating from her big body,
+clothed in a decorous tailor skirt, but with a boudoir jacket serving
+for blouse. Also two kid curlers showed at the nape of her neck. "I can
+feed Miss Grayson into Miss Lindsey's part enough to get by
+to-morrow--to-night I mean. And Wallace can do the same when he's on
+with her. That ugly white cat Hawtry to double on Godfrey Vandeford
+after he pulled her out of Weehawken!"
+
+"Get on, get on, everybody, and use your brains until they lather,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney as he took his stand beside the left stage box.
+"Now, Miss, you gimme lines out of your head or your first draft when I
+call for 'em, and I'll take 'em or leave 'em as suits me. Then you
+smooth the ones I hand you into good talk, and we'll have a show here
+by sun-up that you'll be proud to invite your Christian lady friends to
+attend. And we'll keep all the 'pep' too, Vandeford, that you paid
+Howard to write into it, only we'll take the Hawtry dirt out of it. On,
+Betty Carrington, and the curtain's up."
+
+Then from three o'clock in the morning until almost noon the machinery
+of "The Purple Slipper" was overhauled and adjusted to the new cog. Mr.
+Rooney lashed and rubbed and polished and oiled with never a let-up on
+anybody, and beside him sat the author, with her head up and the bit in
+her mouth. For every line that rang untrue in the reconstruction she had
+a true one or she took a crude bit from Mr. Rooney and polished it into
+place. Fido sat crouched in a front seat and transcribed every word into
+his prompt copy so as to be a veritable first aid.
+
+And Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, experienced show man that he was, felt as if
+he was witnessing a miracle as he beheld Miss Adair's original "Purple
+Slipper," with its haphazard amateur charm, again put forth bud and
+bloom on the branches of Grant Howard's tight-knit, well-constructed,
+and well-rounded drama. The highly-colored flowers of Hawtry personality
+Mr. Rooney pruned away and constructed others for Lindsey, and Miss
+Adair lent them color and perfume in passing them to the new star, who
+was working steadily, slowly, surely, and with great power.
+
+"Don't tell him that his eyes 'burn into yours until your soul is
+seared.' That's old. We got to get a kind of smile here where Hawtry
+looked like she was going to do the ham sandwich act to Height and his
+silk tights." Mr. Rooney stopped the abhorred scene, being acted along
+about six o'clock in the morning, to demand that it be played in the
+proper key, up to which he had succeeded in wringing lines from Miss
+Adair for the first act and most of the second. "What do hearts do to
+each other that's hot and decent and funny all at once?" Mr. Rooney
+fired this biological question to the author of "The Purple Slipper,"
+and looked at her with a demand for an immediate answer in his little,
+black, driving eyes.
+
+"She can say 'There's chaff in my heart; guard the fire in yours,'" Miss
+Adair supplied offhand.
+
+"That hands it to him, and a good double meaning, too," Mr. Rooney
+approved. "Go ahead, Height, but don't get this lady mixed with the
+other kind. Remember, she lives at the ladies Christian home." The laugh
+that greeted this sally was an uproar that added to the dash and quick
+fire of the big scene, which Miss Adair and Mr. Rooney had so quickly
+expurgated and reconstructed between them.
+
+At seven o'clock the play had been entirely run through, and Fido had
+the result in his prompt copy and was beginning to rapidly write it into
+their lines for each of the cast.
+
+"One half hour to get breakfast and Miss Herne's back hair down," Mr.
+Rooney said, with the callousness of a slave-driver. "Then if you run
+through again fairly well we'll be done by noon, and everybody can hit
+the hay for six hours."
+
+Mr. Vandeford watched his author's proud little head droop on the box
+rail in front of her, and with his face very white he motioned Mr.
+Farraday to come to her. After his degrading the night before at the
+hands of Miss Hawtry, he felt that he would be unable to endure the pain
+of the repulsion he felt sure he would find in her eyes if she ever
+looked at him again.
+
+But his summons of Mr. Farraday failed in peremptoriness, for that big,
+bonny gentleman nodded to him, then stood in the wing to catch Miss
+Lindsey in his arms and bear her away to immediate nourishment. In the
+excitement of the last few hours a domesticity had grown up between Mr.
+Farraday and Miss Lindsey that it would have taken months to build in a
+world less hectic than that in which they were then living.
+
+Their courtship had been brief, and consisted in one question, asked by
+Mr. Farraday while Miss Lindsey stood in the wings waiting for a
+moderated, impassioned cue from Mr. Height, and answered by her as she
+responded to him and the call of her stage lover at the same moment.
+
+"When will you marry me?"
+
+"When 'The Purple Slipper' goes on Broadway."
+
+In the circumstances it was natural that Mr. Dennis Farraday should take
+Miss Lindsey for a reminiscent beefsteak and mushrooms during the only
+free half hour she would have for either him or food in the ensuing day,
+and to fail to heed Mr. Vandeford's summon.
+
+Thus deserted, Mr. Vandeford was about to steal forth and appeal to some
+member of the cast of "The Purple Slipper" to come to his rescue in
+providing refreshment to restore the author during the precious half
+hour respite when "the chaff in his heart" caught fire and began to burn
+away forever. Miss Adair raised her eyes to his, with the faith still
+in their wounded depths, and smiled a wan little smile.
+
+"Please get me a glass of milk with an egg in it, and some of that
+brown-bread turkey," she demanded. "I'm dead, but I'll come alive again
+if I go to sleep a minute. Shake me when you get back with it, but get
+something for yourself while you are gone."
+
+"The kiddie, the precious, spunky kiddie," Mr. Vandeford said in his
+heart over and over as he and the young Italian rushed to the hotel and
+back with a waiter and a tray of the desired refreshment, to which had
+been added an iced melon and a couple of bedewed roses.
+
+The shaking had to be literally administered while young Dago Italiana
+held the tray, and then had to be repeated several times by Mr.
+Vandeford, as he almost as literally fed his exhausted author, up until
+the very minute in which Mr. Rooney rang up the curtain and again called
+her into action.
+
+Five hours was more than enough for the smooth running of the three-hour
+"Purple Slipper" show, and at eleven o'clock Mr. Rooney dismissed his
+jaded cast with this strict command delivered in his rich, deep voice,
+which held a note of genuine solemnity.
+
+"All of you go to sleep every minute between now and night, and then
+come back here and make good--for all of us."
+
+With the assistance of young Dago Italiana, Mr. Vandeford delivered Miss
+Adair to a hotel maid, who accepted five dollars from him as a fee for
+putting her to bed, and then he plunged into still greater
+strenuosities.
+
+He sat for three hours with his skilled young publicity man and
+advance-agent, and laid out a discreet, dignified, but very interesting,
+publicity campaign for the new star of "The Purple Slipper." Due
+importance was to be given in all the notices that "The Purple Slipper"
+was to open the New Carnival Theater and in his heart the young
+advertiser put away the intention of making the fact that Mr. Vandeford
+had sold Hawtry and "The Rosie Posie Girl" for "The Purple Slipper," his
+most brilliant reserve story to set all of Broadway, at least, agog for
+the opening of the expensive new play.
+
+"It puts 'The Purple Slipper' at the big end of the horn, and it's not
+your fault that there is only the little end of the horn left for 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' for the time being," he explained to Mr. Vandeford.
+"You see, it is a kind of double-cross that acts both ways. If it goes,
+people will think it was worth your paying a big price for, and if it
+fails, they'll think the 'Rosie Posie Girl' couldn't have been much if
+you traded a chance on such a poor show for it."
+
+"Goes!" said Mr. Vandeford, but he was aware that the smart manoeuver,
+which would once have delighted his soul, made him intensely weary.
+
+In fact, so fatigued did he feel when he left this young press schemer,
+that he dropped into his bed for an hour, and had a masseur come and
+pound him into condition to go to the train with good Dennis Farraday to
+meet Mrs. Farraday, Mrs. and Mr. and Miss Van Tyne, who arrived at five
+o'clock from big Manhattan. Mr. Farraday had had a like operation
+performed upon himself, and was in such a radiant condition that Mr.
+Vandeford felt badly eclipsed beside him.
+
+"What does it all mean about Miss Hawtry and Miss Lindsey and the show,
+Van?" Mrs. Farraday questioned, with greater anxiety in her face than
+she had had at any other opening night of her favorite's successful
+shows. "Are we going to have a terrible time?"
+
+"I'm going to put you in a wheel-chair and let Denny take you up to the
+north end of the board-walk and tell you all about it while I locate and
+make comfortable the rest of the folks," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+deep relief at her presence in his eyes.
+
+"Where are my girls?" she questioned.
+
+"Both dead--asleep," he answered, as if deeply happy to be able to say
+it of his star and his author.
+
+His statement was only partly true, for while Miss Adair slept the sleep
+of the emotionally unanxious, Mildred Lindsey sat crouched by her
+window, with her eyes looking far out over the Atlantic Ocean, waiting
+for the result of Mr. Dennis Farraday's talk with his mother at the
+north end of the board-walk.
+
+There are occasionally mothers who bear sons who can tell them all about
+things, and Mrs. Farraday really enjoyed the whole story that big,
+bonnie Dennis poured out to her at the sunset hour by the brink of old
+ocean, Dago Italiana squatting on his heels out of hearing and basking
+in inactivity, from the moment of the beefsteak episode in his and Miss
+Lindsey's acquaintance up to the moment in which Miss Hawtry had
+established herself in his arms on the occasion of his début in a stage
+dressing-room. And even at that stage of the narration she rather
+astonished Mr. Farraday, who was shamefaced enough at the telling, by
+saying with soft pity in her motherly voice:
+
+"The poor woman. Of course she couldn't help loving you, and now she's
+lost both Van and you. Now go on and tell me about Mildred."
+
+"She--she's the best ever," was Mr. Farraday's explicit and enlightening
+answer.
+
+"Of course she is. I saw that the time you brought her to dinner with
+me, and also that you were in love with her. She's really a rather
+wonderful girl, and--and--Dennis, I'll tell you something that I never
+expected to tell you--I've always wanted to be an actress. I simply
+adore that Lindsey girl, and I know she'll make a great actress. Why on
+earth should she want to marry you?" Which goes to show that
+aristocratic Mrs. Farraday was not the ordinary mother.
+
+"Let's go ask her," roared big Dennis, as he embraced her in a way that
+made the sympathetic and now wealthy young Dago Italiana flash his white
+teeth in joy.
+
+And nobody can say how much the fate of "The Purple Slipper" was
+affected by the fact that Rosalind went upon the stage for her first
+appearance as a star, straight from the tender arms of stately,
+white-haired Mrs. Farraday.
+
+The opening night of "The Purple Slipper," by Patricia Adair, produced
+by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and staged by Mr. William Rooney, was a
+triumph undisputed and acknowledged by a brilliant cosmopolitan audience
+such as Atlantic City furnishes any play presented to it before
+September the twenty-fifth, for up until that week on the board-walk of
+that resort East meets West and the South joins them. The eminent author
+sat in the left stage box with Mrs. Justus Farraday of New York and Mr.
+and Mrs. Derick Van Tyne, and at her side was a chair into which at
+times dropped Mr. Dennis Farraday, but which had been reserved for the
+producer. Things had gone brilliantly from the start, from the moment
+the curtain went up with polished, interesting Miss Herne manoeuvering
+the frightened and substituted Betty Carrington through the opening
+dialogue. A veritable gasp of joy had greeted the beautiful Mr. Gerald
+Height as he entered in his colonial wig, ruffles, and velvet, and his
+big eyes under their bowed brows sought out the author and smiled at her
+with a genuine pledge of loyalty which no lizard could ever have given
+forth as he glided richly into his archaic banter with Miss Herne.
+
+"He'll get 'em going, get 'em going the whole dame bunch from Harlem to
+the Battery," muttered Mr. Rooney to Fido, who stood in the wings, with
+his eyes glued to the much annotated prompt copy. "Now watch out for
+Lindsey; she's doing forty sides of new stuff in twenty hours. Me for
+the stock company to train 'em young. Let her rip, Rosalind!" And with a
+nod Mr. Rooney sent his "bet" out upon the stage to make the audience
+forget that they had paid their money to see Violet Hawtry and make them
+glad to have paid it to see her.
+
+As Mildred Lindsey stepped out on the stage in all the glory of an
+almost unbelievable beauty, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, who sat with his
+shoulder back of that of the author of his play, seemed to behold a
+vision with his trained theatrical foresight. This slender, powerful
+young woman, with the rose dusk of the prairie sun on her cheeks, the
+depths of the great cañons in her dark eyes, and the breadth of the far
+horizons across her broad brow seemed to him to typify the rise of order
+in her profession, over which so long had ruled chaos. And as her rich
+voice led the intrigued audience from one brilliant scene to another, in
+which she reincarnated before their eyes a very flower of the old
+Southern chivalry with dash, finish, and lucidity, he felt as if he had
+done his best and now had a right to be allowed to depart in peace from
+the world of tinsel and illusion. As Lindsey and Height held the
+audience spell-bound while the tempted wife dueled with her might
+against the tender and desperate lover, placing, with a combined art
+that was as great as any he had ever witnessed, the "big scene" of "The
+Purple Slipper" among the "big scenes" of the modern stage instead of in
+the class of lascivious masterpieces where the night before Hawtry had
+laid it, Mr. Vandeford looked down into the gray eyes of the girl who
+had had it all in her blood for generations, and who had so brilliantly
+given it birth, and felt a prophecy rise within him that soon the
+American drama would begin to draw on the wealth of tradition which had
+been piling up in a vast storage for it, and that when it did,
+dramatists and actors, men and women, would rise to interpret it to a
+wondering world.
+
+"Is it really mine?" she asked him, in proud surprise and wonder.
+
+"Yes, it's yours--filtered through Howard and Rooney and all the rest,
+but--it--is--you," he answered. "You lost it a dozen times, but--his
+own comes back to a man or a woman."
+
+His eyes blazed so that the long lashes lowered over the stars in hers,
+and she saw the curtain fall on the last scene in a mist of tears. The
+onrush of applause that raised the curtain half a dozen times was
+confused in her by the pounding of Mr. Vandeford's heart back of her
+shoulder and the echo in her own.
+
+"Fifty weeks and then some, Van," she heard the young press-agent
+declare, in business-like congratulation.
+
+"Sure-fire hit," Mr. Rooney pronounced, as he spat on the stage floor
+behind the curtain. "Rehearsals at ten to-morrow to tighten up, Fido. Me
+for the hay." Miss Adair had gone back of the footlights to cast her
+gratitude into his arms, and he had failed to notice her appearance in
+any way at all, but had spat and gone on his autocratic way. Perhaps in
+the New World of the Theater, stage-managers may be able to afford to be
+human, perhaps not.
+
+Mr. Vandeford's supper-party to the cast of "The Purple Slipper" and the
+friends from New York who had come down to see its try-out, lasted until
+two o'clock in the morning, but when it was over neither the moon, which
+was as full that night as Mr. Kent had become by coffee and cigars, nor
+Dago Italiana had retired, and both stayed on their jobs out at the
+south end of the board walk, where boards melt off into sand and ocean
+and sky.
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had got about two thirds of the way along the
+painful stretch of autobiography, with which he was inflicting agony on
+himself by recounting to Miss Adair, when she raised her gray eyes to
+his with the faith and reverence still at their average level, even
+slightly higher, and stopped his punishment.
+
+"I understand exactly why people like you and Miss Hawtry don't marry
+each other," she astonished him by saying in all calmness. "Mr. Height
+explained it all to me the other day. Actors and actresses have
+peculiar temperaments that fly together when they ought not to, and fly
+apart when they ought to stay together. I know just how that is because
+I feel--"
+
+"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, as he laid his hands on the shoulders
+of his author, who was standing close to him, with the moonlight full on
+her clear-cut, high-bred face, and he gave her a savage shake. "The
+whole crazy bunch will have to have law and order shot into 'em or the
+theatrical profession will follow horse-racing to the devil. If they
+don't give up unfaith and the double-cross Broadway will open some night
+and swallow them all. And here you come out of a real world and say to
+me--"
+
+"What did you think I was going to say?" demanded Miss Adair, pressing
+so close to him that it was impossible for him to administer another
+shake.
+
+"I don't know and I don't want to hear it. I'm afraid to have you say
+anything to me."
+
+"It was this: I was going to ask you what I would have done if you had
+been married to Miss Hawtry when I got to you and we had begun to
+produce our play together. It's different when men and women work
+together! Standards have to be broader. How do I know that I would have
+run away to--"
+
+"Don't, don't!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford as she crept still nearer to him
+and forcibly tried to open his arms for herself. "I'm punished. I've
+taught you myself! When I leave you how'll I ever know if I'm going to
+find you there when I come back?"
+
+"Well, how'd you expect to find me--me--there if you don't take me
+there?" Miss Adair pleaded as she tugged at his folded arms, with such
+energy that her polished thumb-nail slightly marked his iron wrists.
+
+"I'm not worthy, child, I'm not worthy," Mr. Vandeford answered with
+grim words, and his arms still taut against his breast.
+
+"You have to judge yourself with the same--same 'broad standards' I
+judge you by, like you told me to use. Please open your arms!"
+
+"I take those broad standards away from you."
+
+"Jesus Christ gave them to me, only I didn't understand in Adairville."
+
+"God, I wish you had never left Adairville."
+
+"I know what there is for us to do."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I'll go back and marry you by Adairville narrow standards for better
+and for worse, and then we'll have to keep 'em for ourselves when we
+come back, because we did it knowing what we know, but let other people
+be broad wherever they are without judging them. I'm going to drop
+asleep right here on the sand if you don't open your arms."
+
+"Oh, good Lord, what did You make women out of?" Mr. Vandeford said in
+all reverence and bewilderment, as he took the "white flame" to his
+breast and drew it past her lips until it burned away all the chaff in
+his soul and established itself upon its altar.
+
+After Mr. Vandeford had again delivered his author to the hopeful maid,
+waiting up for another greenback, he met Mr. Rooney at the desk of the
+hotel still on his way to "the hay."
+
+"Closed up with Weiner to begin rehearsing 'The Rosie Posie Girl' on
+Tuesday, after we open 'The Purple Slipper' in the New Carnival. Said
+Hawtry wouldn't sign up until I had signed too. She's got a hunch for
+me. If you fail, their show goes in in your place; if you win, Weiner
+shunts John Drew or Arliss out to one of his other theaters on the road,
+and puts in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.' Good business, eh?" And Mr. Rooney
+rolled his cigar from east to west and questioned Mr. Vandeford, with a
+new fire for a new undertaking beginning to burn in his little black
+eyes.
+
+"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with all cordiality, and not even
+thinking of his lost thousands. "It will go big, Rooney, and I'll be
+glad--none gladder."
+
+"Sure," answered Mr. Rooney. "It's all in the business. Everybody on
+Broadway is out to stab everybody else--but mostly it's paper daggers if
+you take it right."
+
+"A tissue-paper world sewed together with tinsel thread," Mr. Vandeford
+murmured, as he fell asleep with his cheek pillowed on the wrist that
+Miss Adair had marked in the struggle for her own.
+
+A week from that night "The Purple Slipper" had its first night on
+Broadway, and opened the New Carnival Theater in a blaze of glory,
+publicity, and electric lights. The talented young press-agent had done
+his work well, and the audience assembled was the most brilliant
+possible, made up of the usual blasé critics, eager theatrical people
+who were not on the boards themselves, and interested and distinguished
+men and women from many outer worlds. In the box facing the one occupied
+by Mrs. Justus Farraday, in a blaze of both the Farraday and Justus
+jewels and prestige, and the beautiful young author of the play, with
+her son Mr. Dennis Farraday, and the producer, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford,
+sat Miss Violet Hawtry with Mr. Weiner, the owner of the beautiful new
+theater which was opening its doors for the first time on Broadway. When
+the curtain fell upon the new Lindsey star after its eighth elevation,
+the Violet rushed behind the scenes and took that astonished young woman
+in her arms, with the real tears of emotion, with which one genuine
+artist greets another, in her great blue eyes.
+
+"You were wonderful, my dear, perfectly wonderful," she exclaimed. "You
+see, Van, I never could have done it like that. Good luck to both of
+you, and the little author--oh, there you are, my dear! All of you shake
+hands with Mr. Weiner. He's so pleased that he is speechless, but he's
+going to give you a big banquet on your fiftieth performance. He's
+promised me."
+
+Which demonstration was perfectly in keeping with Miss Hawtry and
+Maggie Murphy's character, and emanated from that quality within her
+that a month later put "The Rosie Posie Girl" up as high and as
+brilliant in electric lights as "The Purple Slipper," and kept it there
+an entire year. Which goes to prove that the "tissue paper world" is yet
+of heroic fibre.
+
+When Mr. Vandeford went to insert his author into the international
+safety that evening at about the hour of midnight, he saw that his
+friend the secretary was shooing a chattering party of Christian ladies,
+who, as his guests, had sat in a group, fifth row center, in the New
+Carnival Theater that evening, off up-stairs. With his talisman key,
+which had never left his pocket since it had been presented to him, in
+his hand, he paused to speak in a friendly shadow to his successful and
+now truly eminent playwright.
+
+"You'll have to go South Thursday, and I'll follow Sunday to get that
+little marriage business over in Adairville before we leave for the
+Klondike. My commission has arrived from Washington, and the Secretary
+of the Navy wants quick reports of the copper before the big freeze. Do
+you suppose I can keep you warm in Eskimo furs and--and my heart?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the flutter which Mr. Vandeford now
+answered, without any conscious volition. "There ought to be a great
+play out of the Klondike. Jack London could have done it, but--but--"
+the faithful gray eyes were raised to his with the flame in their
+depths.
+
+With a groan, but an answering flame, Mr. Vandeford replied:
+
+"It's a fatal drag--. Yes. Some day we'll come back and try to put
+across another one!"
+
+
+ THE END
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+Transcriber's note
+
+
+The following changes have been made to the text:
+
+Page 12: "marischino" changed to "maraschino".
+
+Page 14: "plenty ruffles" changed to "plenty of ruffles".
+
+Page 14: "nee" changed to "née".
+
+Page 29: "heatrical" changed to "theatrical".
+
+Page 37: "mocking bird" changed to "mockingbird".
+
+Page 40: "Highcliffe" changed to "Highcliff".
+
+Page 42: "Vanderford" changed to "Vandeford".
+
+Page 57: "Madamoiselle" changed to "Mademoiselle".
+
+Page 58: "Madamoiselle" changed to "Mademoiselle".
+
+Page 61: "atinkle" changed to "atwinkle".
+
+Page 67: "Highcliffe" changed to "Highcliff".
+
+Page 90: "coemployer's" changed to "co-employer's".
+
+Page 114: "Fou get Gerald" changed to "You get Gerald".
+
+Pages 118-119: "ear of his coproducer" changed to "ear of his
+co-producer".
+
+Page 125: "Lindenberger" changed to "Lindenberg".
+
+Page 145: "I'd going to" changed to "I'm going to".
+
+Page 193: "She's geting along" changed to "She's getting along".
+
+Page 220: "the he Christian" changed to "the Christian".
+
+Page 236: "touseled" changed to "tousled"
+
+Page 237: "manila envelop" changed to "manila envelope".
+
+Page 245: "Vanderford" changed to "Vandeford".
+
+Page 307: "tryout" changed to "try-out".
+
+Page 373: "Esquimo" changed to "Eskimo".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
+
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+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+ <title>
+ The Project Gutenberg eBook of Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess.
+ </title>
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+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Blue-grass and Broadway
+
+Author: Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2009 [EBook #29391]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-GRASS AND BROADWAY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Carla Foust, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<div class="transnote">
+
+<h3>Transcriber's note</h3>
+<p> A Table of Contents has been created for this version.</p>
+<p>Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without notice.
+Printer
+errors have been changed, and they are indicated with
+a <a class="correction" title="like this" href="#tnotes">mouse-hover</a>
+and listed at the
+<a href="#tnotes">end of this book</a>. All other
+inconsistencies are as in the original.</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<p class="fm3">
+<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII</b></a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII</b></a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 382px;">
+<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="382" height="500" alt="" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;We are all going to stand by, little girl&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h1>BLUE-GRASS<br />
+
+AND<br />
+
+BROADWAY</h1>
+
+<p class="fm4">BY</p>
+
+<p class="fm2">MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS<br /></p>
+
+<p class="fm4">Author of <span class="smcap">"The Melting of Molly," "The Golden Bird," "The Tinder Box,"</span>
+etc.</p>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="fm2">NEW YORK<br />
+THE CENTURY CO.<br />
+1919<br /></p>
+
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+<p class="fm4">
+Copyright, 1919, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">The Century Co</span>.<br />
+<br />
+Copyright, 1918, by<br />
+<span class="smcap">International Magazine Company (Harper's Bazar)</span><br />
+<br />
+<i>Published, April, 1919</i><br />
+</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+
+<p>The need of a large sum of money in a great hurry is the root of many
+noble ambitions, in whose branches roost strange companies of birds,
+pecking away for dollars that grow&mdash;or do not&mdash;on bushes. And it was in
+such a quest that Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, lit upon
+a limb of life beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford of Broadway, New York. Their
+joint endeavors made a great adventure.</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing to it, Pop; either pony girls will have to grow four
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>legs to cut new capers, somebody will have to write a play entitled
+'When Courtship Was in Flower,' requiring flowered skirts ten yards wide
+with a punch in each furbelow, or we go out of the theatrical business,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, as he shuffled a faint, violet-tinted letter out of
+a pile of advertising posters emblazoned with dancing girls and men,
+several personal bills, two from a theatrical storage house and one from
+an electrical expert, leaned back in his chair, and prepared to open the
+violet communication. "We dropped twenty thousand cool on 'Miss Cut-up,'
+and those sixteen pairs of legs cost us fifteen hundred a week. We might
+be in danger of starving right here on Broadway, if we hadn't picked a
+sure-fire hit in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't it the truth," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, as he glanced up from
+his typewriter with a twinkle in his big black eyes that were like gems
+in a round, very sedate, even sad, Hebrew face. "Bare legs and 'cut-ups'
+is already old now, Mr. Vandeford. It is that we must have now a play
+with a punch."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The law won't let us take anything more off the chorus, so we'll have
+to swing back and put a lot on. Costumes that cost a million will be the
+next drag, mark me, Pop," Mr. Godfrey Vandeford declaimed with a gloomy
+brow, as he still further delayed exploring the violet missive.</p>
+
+<p>"A hundred thousand it will take for costuming 'The Rosie Posie Girl,'"
+agreed Pop dolefully, from above the letter he was slowly pecking out of
+the machine.</p>
+
+<p>"For furnishing chiffon belts, you mean, not costumes, if we go by
+Corbett's clothes ideas," growled the pessimistic, prospective producer
+of the possible next season's hit in the girl-show line.</p>
+
+<p>"You have it right," answered Pop, sympathetically.</p>
+
+<p>"If I hadn't promised to let old Denny in on my Violet Hawtry show for
+the fall I'd be tempted to throw back everything, even 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl' and go gunning for potatoes or onions up on a Connecticut farm;
+but the show bug has bit Denny hard and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> I'll have to be the one to
+shear him and not leave it to any of the others. I'll be more merciful
+to his millions; but asking him to put up half of a cool hundred and
+fifty thousand is a bit raw. Wish I had a nice little glad play with an
+under twenty cast for him to cut his teeth on instead of the 'Rosie
+Posie.'"</p>
+
+<p>"It's six plays on the shelf now for reading," reminded Mr. Meyers,
+eagerly, for to him fell the task of weeding all plays sent into the
+office of Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer, and his optimistic
+soul suffered when he discovered a gem and found himself unable to get
+Mr. Vandeford to read so much as the first act unless he caught him in
+just such a mood as the one in which he now labored. "Now, I want that
+you take just a peep, Mr. Vandeford, at that new Hinkle comedy for which
+I have written already five times to delay&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't do it now, Pop! Don't you see that I have got to read this purple
+letter and that is all the business I can attend to for this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> morning?"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, as he pushed a slim paper cutter along the top
+edge of the purple missive.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mr. Vandeford, it is that I have&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Express. Sign here!" was the interruption that put an end to Mr.
+Meyers's immediate supplication. The parcel that he deposited upon his
+chief's desk with forceful meekness was a play manuscript.</p>
+
+<p>"Great guns, Pops; I'm seeing purple!" exclaimed Mr. Vandeford, as he
+let the violet letter fall upon the violet wrappings in which the
+express intrusion was incased. "Exact match! This looks like some sort
+of a hunch. Open it, Pops, and run through the layout while I tackle the
+violet letter and see if anything happens." And with great interest both
+grown men plunged into the excitement of the chase of the hunch.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford's letter contained the following, delivered in bold words
+and script:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Highcliff</span>.</p>
+
+<p><i>My dear Van:</i></p>
+
+
+<p>This is to remind you that it is now July<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> fifth, and my contract
+sets September twenty-third as the last date for my opening on
+Broadway in a new play under your management. "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" will be a huge undertaking and worthy of my every effort, but
+I do not feel that you are up to producing it properly. I regret
+your losses in "Miss Cut-up," but I did my best with a vehicle that
+was not worthy of my ability. The success of "Dear Geraldine" was
+entirely due to the comedy bits I wrote in to suit myself, and I
+had to be costumer and producer and the whole show. In justice to
+myself I feel that I ought to pass under the management of a more
+forceful person than yourself. And anyway I don't think you would
+be able to get a theater to open on Broadway in September. Remember
+that over a hundred good shows died on the road waiting to get into
+Broadway last winter, and <i>I</i> won't play anywhere else. Now Weiner
+wants to buy "The Rosie Posie Girl" from you and open his New
+Carnival Theatre with me in it on October first. You must sell it
+to him. He will make you a good offer. You can't use it without me,
+and I want him to produce it. Please see him immediately. You know
+that you owe your reputation as a producer to me, and don't be
+selfish. I'll expect you up on the evening train to talk over the
+final<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> arrangements. I'll meet you in the runabout and we can go
+out to the Beach Inn for dinner. Bring me some brandied marrons, a
+large bottle of rose oil and a stick of lip rouge from Celeste's.</p>
+
+<p class="author">Hurriedly,<br />
+<br />
+<span class="smcap">Violet.</span>
+</p>
+
+<p>July fifth.<br /></p>
+
+<p>P. S. Of course you are to go on loving me just as usual. I
+couldn't do without that. How much money have I in the
+Knickerbocker Trust?</p></div>
+
+<p>After Godfrey Vandeford had read the last violent purple line on violet,
+he dropped the letter on his desk and looked out of his office window
+with serious eyes that gazed without seeing, down the long canyon of
+Broadway, up and down which rushed traffic composed of green cars shaped
+like torpedoes, honking, darting motors, skulking trucks and jostling,
+tangled people. Flamboyant signs, waving flags, and gilt-lettered window
+panes made a Persian glow in a belt space up from the seething sidewalks
+to the sky line, and above it all the roar and din rose to high heaven.
+But Godfrey Vandeford was blind to it all and deaf, as he sat and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>
+brooded above the furious landscape. His blue eyes, set deep back under
+their black, gray-splashed brows, failed to take in the lurid spectacle,
+and his narrow, lean face was flushed under the bronze it had acquired
+for keeps from the suns of many climes. His lean, powerful body seemed
+fairly crouched in thought. Once he shifted one leg across the other,
+and as he settled back in his chair he tossed the violet letter over to
+Mr. Meyers without seeming to know that he did so. Then he plunged back
+into his absorption without seeing his henchman read rapidly through the
+missive, look at him once with a gem-like keenness, and again begin to
+read the purple-covered manuscript.</p>
+
+<p>"And we picked her out of a vaudeville gutter over beyond Weehawken just
+five years ago, Pop," Mr. Vandeford finally interrupted the flip of the
+manuscript pages to say, with a deep musing in his flexible, sympathetic
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You taught her to eat with the knife and the fork," growled Mr. Meyers
+from behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> his violet barricade as he ripped over another page.
+"Mick!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not as bad as that, Pop," laughed Mr. Vandeford, with a glance of
+affection at the young Hebrew delving in the corner for a jewel for him.
+"She's just&mdash;oh, well, they are all children&mdash;and have to be spanked.
+She wants to sell me out to Weiner after I've spent five nice, good
+years in building her into a little twinkle star, but I don't think it
+will be good for her to let her do it. I'll have to use the slipper on
+her, I'm afraid. I believe in hunches and I believe I'll just use that
+purple manuscript you're chewing to let her set her teeth in. She needs
+one good failure to tone her up. What's the name of the effusion in
+ribbons?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Renunciation of Rosalind," murmured Mr. Meyers, as he bent once
+more to the pages which he had been reading with eagerness when
+interrupted by his chief.</p>
+
+<p>"We could call it 'The Purple Slipper.' About what will the cast
+figure?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Three thousand per week if you use Gerald Height at five hundred as per
+contract with him. But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I would say for a play this
+is&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"That's not much money to waste on a purple hunch. A nice, judicious,
+little second-hand staging out of the warehouse and a few weeks' road
+try-out for the failure will cost about ten thousand. I'll let Denny
+have five thousand worth of fun mussing around with it to cut his eye
+teeth, and then we'll clap Violet into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' weeping
+with gratitude to have her face saved after being slapped first. Get the
+parts out to-morrow and you and Chambers begin to cast it. I'll see
+actors here from three to five Friday. I'll open it September tenth. Now
+I've got to go and chase those confounded marrons. The last I took were
+put up in
+<a name="corr1" id="corr1"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn1" title="changed from 'marischino'">maraschino</a>
+and were not welcomed. I'll be in the office&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And about the author, Mr. Vandeford, and the contracts?" questioned Mr.
+Meyers, with both dismay and energy in his voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I forgot about the author. She won't amount to much. A woman, I
+judge, from the ribbons. Offer the usual five, rising to seven and a
+half royalties, and explain carefully that you mean five per cent. on
+the box office receipts under five thousand, and seven and a half on all
+over that. Also go into the moving picture rights and second companies
+with your usual honesty, but offer her only a two hundred and fifty
+advance to cover a two years' option. She won't know that it ought to be
+five hundred for six months, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her.
+Besides, it will all be over for her and her play before October."</p>
+
+<p>"She says in the letter which was pinned to the first page of the play,
+that the article about you in the 'Times Magazine' made her know that
+you were the one producer to whom she could trust her play," said Mr.
+Meyers, reading from a neat little cream-white note in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweet child!" murmured Mr. Vandeford, as he took up his hat and stick.
+"Don't en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>courage her in any way in your letter, Pop. We don't want her
+rushing to the scene of action when we butcher her child. Pay the two
+thousand to Hilliard for the option on 'The Rosie Posie Girl' until
+January first, and tell him I am going to produce it in November. 'Phone
+me at Highcliff to-morrow if you want me. I'll be clearing the deck for
+the&mdash;spanking."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you good luck," said Mr. Meyers feelingly.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you judge that play is about from reading the first act, and
+what is the author's name? I might have to produce a little concrete
+information in the fracas," the eminent producer paused to inquire just
+as he was closing the door.</p>
+
+<p>"It is written by a Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, and it
+has in plenty
+<a name="corr2" id="corr2"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn2" title="changed from 'ruffles'">of ruffles</a>
+and romance that is in a past time of a
+Colonial Governor and his wife alone at home with him in Washington."</p>
+
+<p>"That sounds about right for the weapon of castigation for Violet
+Hawtry,
+<a name="corr3" id="corr3"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn3" title="changed from 'nee'"><i>n&eacute;e</i></a>
+Mur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>phy. I have always believed in hunches, and that
+accord in color was meant to mean something. Better send me a copy
+special in the morning. If Mr. Farraday calls me before I get him tell
+him the Astor at one to-day. What did I say? Marrons, lip stick, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Rose oil," prompted Mr. Meyers, with just the trace of a sneer in his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Right O! Rose oil it is. By!" And the door closed on Mr. Vandeford's
+graceful figure in its gray London tweeds.</p>
+
+<p>Thus a great adventure was undertaken in all levity. And with his
+chief's complete departure a change came into the mien of Mr. Adolph
+Meyers. He told the stenographer in the outer office to engage two girls
+to copy a play that afternoon and evening, to keep him from being
+interrupted until six, and to muffle the telephone unless in cases of
+emergency. Then he seated himself in Mr. Vandeford's deep chair, put his
+feet on the desk, lit a fat, black cigar and plunged into "The Purple
+Slipper," <i>n&eacute;e</i> "The Renunciation of Rosalind." For two hours he read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+with the deepest absorption, only pausing to make an occasional note on
+a pad at his elbow. Then after he had laid down the manuscript with its
+purple wrappings and ribbons, he sat for a half hour in a trance, out of
+which he came to seat himself at the typewriter to indite a portentous
+letter, which he put in an envelope, sealed and directed to:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Miss Patricia Adair</span>,<br />
+Adairville, Kentucky.</p></div>
+
+<p>The contents were:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>My dear Madam:</i></p>
+
+<p>I have carefully read your play entitled "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," and have decided to make you the following offer for the
+production rights. I will give you two hundred and fifty dollars
+for all rights of production, including moving picture rights and
+supplementary road companies to extend over a period of two years
+from the date of signing the contract, and will agree to pay you in
+addition five per cent. of all box receipts up to five thousand per
+week and seven and a half on all exceeding that sum. If you agree
+to this proposition, I will send you a formal contract covering all
+points in legal terms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> Please let me know at your earliest
+convenience your decision about the matter, as I now intend to
+produce it in September with Violet Hawtry in the title r&ocirc;le.</p>
+
+<p>
+Believe me, my dear Madam,<br />
+<br /></p>
+
+<p class="author2">Very truly,<br /></p>
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Godfrey Vandeford</span>.<br /></p>
+</div>
+
+<p>The above epistle from a strange outer world found Miss Patricia Adair,
+attired in a faded gingham frock, planting snap beans in her ancestral
+garden. It was delivered to her by her brother, Mr. Roger Adair, from
+the hip pocket of his khaki trousers, upon which were large smudges of
+the agricultural profession. His blue gingham shirt was open at the
+throat across a strong bronze throat, and his eyes were as blue as his
+shirt and laughed out across big brown freckles that matched his
+chestnut hair.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's a letter I brought over from the post-office, Pat, along with a
+sack of meal and fifty cents' worth of sugar. Mr. Bates said Miss Elvira
+Henderson stopped in and told him to send it to you by the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> person
+coming your way," he said as he threw the reins of the filly, whose
+chestnut coat matched his hair exactly, over the gate post, and
+proceeded to take from the pommel of the saddle the two bundles of
+groceries mentioned. "Mr. Bates sent you this bunch of tomato plants and
+head lettuce to set out along the back border of your rose beds, and
+I'll spade it all up for you right now if&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Roger, listen, listen!" exclaimed Patricia, as she sprang to her
+feet from her knees upon which she had rested as she read the letter he
+had handed her. "My play, my play, it's sold!" And as she sparkled at
+him over the letter of Mr. Adolph Meyers held clasped to her gingham
+bosom, wild roses bloomed in her cheeks and tears sparkled in her gray
+eyes back of their thick black lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"What play?" demanded Roger, stolid with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"The one I wrote last month and the month before, when Mr. Covington
+said that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> the mortgage must be paid&mdash;or give up Rosemeade. I knew it
+would kill Grandfather to move him away from the house he was born in,
+and I couldn't think of anything that would get money quick but coal oil
+wells and gold mines and plays. It costs money to dig up oil and gold,
+but it is easy to write a play."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is it?" Roger questioned, with a twinkle in his eyes above the
+freckles. In his arms he still held the meal and the sugar, and his
+interest was an inspiration to Patricia to pour out the whole story in a
+torrent of tumbling words.</p>
+
+<p>"You know those love letters I have of our great grandmother's that she
+wrote to her husband while he was in Washington consulting the President
+about the first constitutional convention, the ones about the Indian
+raid and the battle at Shawnee. You remember the day I read them to you
+up in the apple tree in the orchard years ago, don't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember the day," answered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> Roger, with another twinkle turned
+inward at the memory of his seventeen-year-old scorn of Patricia's
+eleven-year-old sentimentality.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, those letters are the play," announced Patricia triumphantly. "I
+read a lot of Shakespeare and other old English dramas I found in
+Grandfather's library to see exactly how to make one. It ends when he
+comes back expecting to find her killed and she is dancing at a dinner
+she has given her lover as a bet that he would come back by that night.
+It's wonderful!" As she thus laid bare the skeleton of her play child,
+Patricia took from doubting Roger the sack of sugar.</p>
+
+<p>"Shoo, that's not a play," hooted Roger, with a decided return of his
+seventeen-year-old scorn in his thirtieth summer.</p>
+
+<p>"Read that," answered Patricia with dignity, as she handed him Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford's letter, written and signed by Mr. Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Whew&mdash;uh, Pat, two hundred and fifty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> dollars!" Roger exclaimed, as his
+manner dissolved quickly from affectionate derision into respectful awe.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, that's just a trifle for a beginning; those royalties may be worth
+several hundred thousand. In the 'Times Magazine' article that I read
+about Godfrey Vandeford and his plays, it said he had paid the author of
+'Dear Geraldine' more than a hundred thousand dollars in royalties. That
+is what made me write the play."</p>
+
+<p>"Say, let me take it sitting down," said Roger as he sank upon the grass
+beside a rose bed that had a row of spring onions growing odoriferously
+defiant under the very shower of its petals, and laid the sack of
+precious meal tenderly across his knees. "Now go on and tell me."</p>
+
+<p>"You see, Roger, I had to do something to get the money to keep the
+house for Grandfather. You know we couldn't get any more mortgage money,
+because it had closed up or something, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Did Covington tell you he was going to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> foreclose after I&mdash;that is,
+right away?" demanded Roger fiercely, with a snap in the blue eyes above
+the freckles.</p>
+
+<p>"No," said Patricia, as she settled herself on the grass beside Roger,
+with the valuable sugar balanced tenderly upon her knee. "He told me
+that he would let it stand just as it was for three months until October
+first, but after that we would have to&mdash;to tell&mdash;Grandfather and move,"
+a quiver came into Patricia's soft voice that had in it the patrician,
+slurring softness that can only come from the throat of a grand dame
+sprung from the race which has dominated blue-grass pastures. "Doctor
+Healy says it won't be long but&mdash;but now he'll&mdash;he'll die in his own
+home that Grandmother built where he fought off the Indians. Her play
+has saved us."</p>
+
+<p>"I had fixed it to run until I make my crops," said Roger, with a choke
+in his voice that was a rich masculine accompaniment to Patricia's.</p>
+
+<p>"The play will have been running six<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> weeks by that time, and I can pay
+most of it off. A hundred thousand a year is almost ten thousand a month
+and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But all plays don't succeed, Pat, honey, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The 'Times Magazine' said that Godfrey Vandeford had never had a
+failure, and didn't you read that he wants to star Violet Hawtry in it?
+She was 'Dear Geraldine.' How could it fail?" Patricia was positively
+haughty toward Roger's timorousness.</p>
+
+<p>"That's so," admitted Roger, convinced. "And we can easy get by on the
+two fifty until October, especially with the garden I am going to raise.
+I'm no Godfrey Vandeford, but I'm a first-class producer&mdash;of potatoes
+and onions and cabbage and turnip greens and corn. In these war times a
+potato producer ranks with any old producer."</p>
+
+<p>"But I won't be able to leave all of the two hundred and fifty to use
+this summer. I'll have to take some of it with me."</p>
+
+<p>"With you where?" demanded Roger.</p>
+
+<p>"To New York. Do you suppose even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would undertake
+to produce a play without the author there to help him?" Patricia's
+scorn of Roger's lack of sound reasoning about theatrical matters was
+hurled at him pitilessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," admitted Roger hurriedly. "You can take the whole two
+hundred and fifty and I'll look after the Major and Jeff."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know what I'd do without you, Roger," said Patricia, as she
+cuddled her cheek for an instant against his strong, warm shoulder under
+the gingham shirt. "I'm afraid of New York. I know you'll take care of
+Grandfather; but who'll look after little me&mdash;I don't know what I'll do
+all by myself. Maybe I won't have to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly you'll have to go," Roger interrupted with comforting
+assurance. "Go to the Young Women's Christian Association, and if
+anything happens to you telegraph me and I'll come get you."</p>
+
+<p>"I hadn't thought of the Y. W. C. A. Of course I'll be all right there.
+I'll get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> Miss Elvira to write a special letter to the secretary about
+me," exclaimed Patricia with the joy lights back in the great, gray
+eyes. "And it's so cheap there that I can leave a lot of the money at
+home. I'll only be gone about six weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I think you had better take all the two fifty with you," said
+Roger. "You know you have to spend money to make money and you mustn't
+be short. I'll look after the Major and Jeff. Don't you worry, dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you let me buy you a big silo and a tractor plow when I get all
+the money? You are the greatest farmer in the world and you only need a
+little machinery to prove it." Again the young playwright rose to her
+knees and with letter and sugar in her embrace she entreated to be
+allowed to spend the money that was to be hers from "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," which she did not know was being cast in New York as "The
+Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I'll let you help me, Pat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> Hasn't what's yours and mine
+always been ours since we set our first hen together?" laughed Roger, as
+he rose to his feet and dragged Patricia to hers beside him. "Come on
+and let's break it to the Major. You may need me to stand by if it hits
+him on the bias," and they both laughed with a tinge of uneasiness as
+they went down the long walk of the garden which on both sides was
+sprouting and leaving and perfuming in a medley of flowers and
+vegetables.</p>
+
+<p>As they walked slowly along Roger cast an eye of great satisfaction over
+the long lines of rapidly maturing peas and beans and heavy-leaved
+potatoes, and in his mind calculated that a year's food for the small
+family at Rosemeade was being produced right at their door under his
+skilful hoe which he wielded at off times when he could leave the negro
+hands to their work out on Rosemeade, their ancestral five hundred acres
+of blue-grass meadows and loamy fields. Roger had for the summer quit
+his slowly growing law practice in Adairville, enlisted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> as a doughty
+Captain in the Army of the Furrows and was as proud of his khaki and
+gingham uniform with their loam smudges as of his diploma from the
+University of Virginia which hung in the wide old hall, the top one in a
+succession of five given from father to son of the house of Adair. The
+whole county was farming under the direction of Roger, and he had been
+obliged often to work Patricia's garden by moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm almost afraid to tell Grandfather," Patricia interrupted his food
+calculations to say as they came around the corner of the wide-roofed
+old brick house with its traceries of vines that massed at the eaves to
+give nesting for many doves, and beheld the Major seated in his arm
+chair on the porch which was guarded and supported by round, white
+pillars around which a rose vine festooned itself. A faded, plaid wool
+rug was across the Major's knees in spite of the fact that the evening
+was so warm, and about his shoulders was a wide, gray knitted scarf. A
+bent, white-haired old negro stood beside him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> filling his pipe for him
+and serving as a target for the words issuing from beneath his waxed
+white mustache that gave the impression of crossed white swords.</p>
+
+<p>"War! What do they know about war, Jeff? We killed our first Yankee
+before we were seventeen, and now they fight behind guns located six
+miles away by squinting through double-decker opera glasses. War, I say
+in these days&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir," assented Jeff, in soothing interruption of what he
+considered debilitating heat in the Major's words. "We whipped them
+Yankees in no time but they jest didn't find it out in time to stop
+killing us 'fore it all ended. Now, I'm going to help you to your room
+and make you comfortable for I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I see Patricia and Roger approaching and I'll wait to talk to them for
+a few minutes, Jeff," answered the Major with a slight note of entreaty
+in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Jess a little while, then, jess a little while," consented the old
+black comrade<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> nurse as he shuffled into the house and back to his
+kitchen to complete his preparation of the simple evening meal for his
+little household. As he crisped his bacon, scrambled his eggs and
+browned his muffins he muttered to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"He's gitting weaker every day&mdash;help him Lord, and me to keep care of
+him."</p>
+
+<p>Just as he was turning the fluffy yellow scramble into a hot, old silver
+dish he paused and listened to the musketry of the Major's deep voice
+which was huge even in weakness, then he shook his head and began to
+hustle the food together to be able to use the announcement of the meal
+as an interruption to the harmful excitement, whose scattering words he
+was at a loss to understand.</p>
+
+<p>"Impossible! Impossible that my granddaughter should barter and trade in
+the
+<a name="corr4" id="corr4"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn4" title="changed from 'heatrical'">theatrical</a>
+world, a world into which no lady should ever set foot.
+No! Do not argue, Patricia! Roger and I understand, and it is not
+needful that you should," were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> the words of the assault and
+counter-charge that so puzzled old Jeff over his skillet and baker.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to act in the play, Grandfather. I wrote it and I'm going
+to show them how I want it acted and then come right home," soothed
+Patricia, looking to Roger for help and reinforcement.</p>
+
+<p>"She'll stay at the Young Women's Christian Association, Major, and
+she'll be perfectly safe. I am going to write to Dennis Farraday, who
+graduated with me at the University, and ask him to look after her if
+she needs anything."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that puts another face on the matter," said the Major, with a
+degree of mollification coming into his keen, old face and weakly
+booming voice. "Of course, the Adairs have always been geniuses of one
+kind or another, and it is not surprising that my granddaughter should
+have produced a great American Drama. If she has the interest and
+protection of a gentleman who is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> a friend of her brother's, and a safe
+retreat in a woman's organization I will have to permit her to
+superintend the placing of her great work before an appreciative public.
+Of course, she will not be thrown with any of the theatrical world
+socially, and in a few weeks she will return to her own home, leaving
+that world better for having had a brief glimpse of her. You may go,
+Patricia. Jefferson!" Fatigue showed very decidedly in the Major's weak
+call to the old negro, who came immediately and rolled his chair away
+with an indignant cast of his eyes at the two young people.</p>
+
+<p>"Wh-eugh, that was a battle, and if I hadn't thought of old Denny to
+bring up as a support to the Young Women's Christian Association I think
+it would have sure gone the other way." And Roger laughed with the
+twinkle above the freckles as he leaned against the rose vine around the
+pillar and fanned himself with his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Is</i> there any Denny?" questioned Pa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>tricia weakly, from the top step
+upon which she had sunk when the Major was wheeled away.</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, and he's a jolly good fellow," answered Roger. "I had a
+letter from him year before last. I'll write him all about everything
+and he'll look after you for me. I'd trust Denny to do his best for me
+if I hadn't seen him for fifty years. I lived with him our Junior and
+Senior years and I know him. But I must go. I have to go back to the
+grocery again to get a plow point."</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't go until after supper," pleaded Patricia. "I want to think
+out loud to you. It has just struck me that I will have to have some
+clothes. What will I do about it? I can't go to New York in a gingham
+dress."</p>
+
+<p>"In such a crisis as that I think Miss Elvira will be a better target
+for your thoughts than I can be. I'll stop and tell her the news and
+send her over," teased Roger with his engaging twinkle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I can't think to anybody like I can to you," said Patricia, as she came
+and stood beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"I really have to go, honey child, to see about the ploughing in my
+South meadow, but I'll come back to be in the finish of the dimity
+confab," answered Roger, as he patted Patricia on the shoulder and went
+rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>And a dimity confab was a good name for the conference that was held in
+the July moonlight on the front porch of Rosemeade for several silvered
+hours that night. Miss Elvira Henderson, modiste, who was the guide,
+philosopher and friend, in the matter of costuming as well as in all
+other matters, of the feminine population of Hillcrest, had hurried down
+the street to the Rosemeade gate as soon as she had consumed her
+spinster baked apple and toast supper, and on her way had collected
+pretty Mamie Lou Whitson and progressive Jenny Kinkaid, who formed a
+thrilled chorus to her interested and joyful conversation with
+Patricia.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The eyes of the world will be on you, Patricia, and nothing short of a
+silk tailor suit will be suitable for you to wear to sustain yourself in
+such a position," declared Miss Elvira, with a positive degree of
+finality in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"And you'll have to have at least three evening dresses, Pat, for that
+same article about Mr. Godfrey Vandeford said that Broadway only woke up
+at night. And you know it said he was the best known man on Broadway. Of
+course, he'll take you to lots of Cafes and dances, and midnight frolics
+and&mdash;and things," bubbled Mamie Lou very unwisely.</p>
+
+<p>"Patricia is to stay at The Young Women's Christian Association, and I
+am sure they will expect her to be in bed before any midnight
+foolishness," said Miss Elvira, with a severe glance at the frivolous
+Mamie Lou. "I shall, of course, make her an evening dress or two, one
+especially to wear when the multitude calls her before the curtain to
+express their admiration of and en<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>thusiasm over her play, but I shall
+trust Patricia not to let them lead her into any undue frivolity. The
+theatres all close at eleven o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"The article said that was the time that Broadway woke up, and&mdash;" Jenny
+began, as she hid behind Mamie Lou as if expecting a volley from Miss
+Elvira. But Miss Elvira was too much absorbed to notice her in any way.
+Miss Elvira was also in the throes of conceptive genius.</p>
+
+<p>"The last 'Woman's Review' had a colored plate of a suit that I can see
+on you, Patricia," she mused under her breath. "It was queer blue,
+with&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"In that big trunk of your great grandmother's up in the garret there's
+a blue silk that she wore in Washington that is that curious new blue
+color, Pat, and a lot more of&mdash;" Mamie Lou was saying with great
+executive ability when Miss Elvira seized on her idea and made it her
+own with the avidity of real genius.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll make over all of old Madam<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> Adair's dresses for you, Patricia,"
+she decreed.</p>
+
+<p>"They've always been kept kind of sacred and&mdash;" Patricia began to
+remonstrate with uncertainty in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"And rightly so&mdash;but at the presentation of her play it is proper for
+them to emerge," Miss Elvira further decreed. "Get a lamp and let's go
+look at them and decide to-night," she further commanded.</p>
+
+<p>And from the result of that resurrection in the garret of Rosemeade,
+Adairville, Kentucky, later Broadway, even Fifth Avenue, New York, got a
+decided and unwonted thrill.</p>
+
+<p>"The clothes are all right, Roger. Miss Elvira is going to make me a lot
+out of great-grandmother's clothes she wore in Washington to dance with
+Lafayette," Patricia confided to Roger as they stood under the rose vine
+in the moonlight at the late hour of ten-thirty that evening after she
+had helped him transplant a lot of sturdy tomato vines.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Little old New York will sit up and take notice when it sees you in
+party dimity, Pat," he said as he smiled down into the eager, gray eyes
+that were raised to his, beaming through their long black lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I hope I'll make friends, Roger," Patricia answered the warmth in
+his voice as she clung to the warmth and strength of his arm as if in
+foreboding.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course New York will love you, Pat. Hasn't everybody always loved
+you?" he asked tenderly as he put his work-worn hand over hers on his
+arm.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Patricia, with her head suddenly held high. "If anybody
+don't like me, I'll make them."</p>
+
+<p>At about the same hour that this challenge to his world was flung from
+the lips of the beautiful and talented Miss Patricia Adair upon the
+moonlit and
+<a name="corr5" id="corr5"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn5" title="changed from 'mocking bird'">mockingbird</a>
+trilled air of the Bluegrass State Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford was engaged in about the twenty-fifth round of the spanking of
+Miss Violet Hawtry in the State of New York,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> and he was having a hard
+time accomplishing his purpose.</p>
+
+<p>"It's just like your selfishness to try to put me into a piffling play
+by some unknown author with every risk to be run, when Weiner wants to
+buy your contract and put me into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' which is a
+play by Hilliard that gives me scope for all of my ability. He is
+willing to give you a fifth interest in it and that's all you deserve.
+I'll show you whether or not you can sacrifice my career,
+you &mdash;&mdash;! &mdash;&mdash;! &mdash;&mdash;! you!" And with which tirade the beautiful Violet
+stormed up and down the veranda of Highcliff in front of the supine
+figure of her manager, which was clad in immaculate white flannel, suede
+and linen, with a blue silk scarf knotted at the base of his lean,
+bronze throat, which matched the blue of his keen eyes under their
+gray-sprinkled brows, as the only bit of color in his irreproachable
+costuming.</p>
+
+<p>"You've read neither play, my dear Violet. You may like 'The Purple
+Slipper.' In which case you get the same salary and I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> get all the
+profits instead of the one-fifth our friend Weiner is offering me for
+letting you act in my other play," he answered his star's outburst in an
+easy, mollifying drawl.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody knows that a Hilliard play is a <i>play</i>, and I'm not going to
+try out a new playwright just to put money in your pockets. Why should
+I?" demanded the star virago, in a fury that made her snapping Irish
+blue eyes, tall, strapping, curved body, and pale tawny hair combine
+into a good semblance of the jungle queen on a prey quest.</p>
+
+<p>"No reason except your contract entered into in all lawfulness,"
+answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "You know what the Courts are, and if
+you like I'll meet you there and fight it out instead of by these
+sounding sea waves in this delicious moonlight. Come here and kiss me
+and do let our lawyers settle it all for us." As he spoke he rose lazily
+and attempted to take the taut young cat into a pair of listlessly
+desirous arms.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Not on your life you big loafer, you, just because you put one over me
+when I was a starved stage door drab don't think I am that same kind or
+that sort of thing goes with me now." She spit the words at him as she
+half yielded to his nonchalant embrace and half repulsed it.</p>
+
+<p>"Be accurate, Violet, my dear: did I demand your heart until I had
+managed you and my own affairs to the point where you could buy
+<a name="corr6" id="corr6"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn6" title="changed from 'Highcliffe'">Highcliff</a>
+or any other trifles you wanted? There are other ladies to
+love in the world besides you, aren't there? There are other gentlemen
+besides me and you've had five years&mdash;and a wide hunting grounds. I've
+got you under only one contract&mdash;business and not&mdash;pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>"God, I don't know whether I love or hate you most," were the words of
+the conciliating purr that he got as she turned to put herself back
+under his caressing.</p>
+
+<p>"Hate, I wager," he laughed softly, as he drew away from her and seated
+himself on the railing of the veranda which hung out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> over the old ocean
+so that its hungry waves seemed to be leaping up to engulf him. The gray
+peaks and gable of the Hawtry cottage massed themselves back of him and
+in the silvering moonlight he looked like a white eagle perched on an
+eyrie.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't make me play that play; give me over to Weiner," the star of many
+such an encounter as well of "Dear Geraldine" coaxed, as she followed
+him and put bare, white, glistening arms around his neck and attempted
+to draw his head down against a bosom that still tossed with the storm
+of anger that she had put out of voice and face. "You know how last year
+nobody could get a theatre for love or money, and the producers who
+owned theatres put on all the plays and coined money. It will be worse
+next year. You have no theatre and Weiner has three. He offers to let us
+open the New Carnival. It'll be a sure thing; while your play will have
+to take its chance for a New York theatre and maybe get none. Please,
+Godfrey!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, you see I had agreed to let Dennis Farraday in on this play, and
+it would sell him out to Weiner too," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he very
+gently but determinedly took the white arms from around his neck and
+refused the pillow of the storming breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Dennis Farraday?" Violet asked, and Mr. Vandeford shot a quick glance
+of question at her as he felt the tautening of the muscles in the white
+arms that he had in his grasp of untangling. "You are not going to trim
+him, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not if you make a hit in 'The Purple Slipper,' answered Mr.
+<a name="corr7" id="corr7"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn7" title="changed from 'Vanderford'">Vandeford</a>,
+as he gave her another appraising glance while he lit a
+cigarette.</p>
+
+<p>"Has he read the play?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's putting his money on Hawtry in a play of Vandeford's selecting and
+producing," was the slap administered with the soft drawl. And as he
+slapped he watched the reaction.</p>
+
+<p>"What did you do with that copy of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> play that fellow Dolph sent out
+this morning?" was what he got with an entire change of purpose in the
+beautiful, stormy face that had calmed in an instant.</p>
+
+<p>"It's in your room on the table by your bed," answered Mr. Vandeford, as
+he rose, stretched, yawned and in other ways indicated his desire for
+sleep in the primitive manner that a man uses in the bosom of his
+family.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to read it if you don't mind," the Violet said with a smile
+of pleasure instead of the frown of anger which had so lately rested on
+her fair face. Mr. Vandeford laughed inwardly; she was about as
+transparent as a very young kitten in its eagerness for a saucer of
+cream.</p>
+
+<p>"Good girl," answered Godfrey, as together they entered the dark house.
+Together they climbed the steps, and with a kiss executed by the Violet
+he left her to turn into the door of her room while he went on to his
+just beyond.</p>
+
+<p>Out of her sight the lazy, care-free man<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>ner left his lithe body, and in
+an instant every muscle stiffened to action. The smoulder of anger in
+his eyes blazed. He looked at his watch.</p>
+
+<p>"Thirty-five minutes to catch that eleven-fifteen train to town. Never
+again. I'm done!" he murmured and looked about him at his belongings
+strewn around his room. "I'll send Dolph out to pack to-morrow. A jump
+into tweeds and a sprint down the beach will make it."</p>
+
+<p>And after vigorously suiting his actions to his words for twenty minutes
+he was running swiftly down the beach well ahead of the time of the
+eleven-fifteen train. Just as the headlight cast a red ray down the long
+track he stepped on the platform and in ten seconds more he was being
+whirled away from the moonlight and sands and white arms, having
+accomplished his purpose of the spanking, cut forever chains that
+galled, and was well content with himself and the world.</p>
+
+<p>Back at Highcliff the beautiful Violet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> had been undergoing the rites of
+retirement, assisted by her very well-skilled maid, deep in an exciting
+dream of conquest. As she let her soft, perfumed, silken garments be
+taken from her one at a time until her pearly body was exposed to the
+brisk sea air, for which tonic Susette had thrown wide both broad
+windows, she was weighing in her shrewd little gutter-gamin mind the
+advantages of the road to the right against the turn to the left. The
+Hilliard "Rosie Posie Girl" in the fall produced by Weiner with all his
+trained staff, command of a big new theatre and three others, and
+following road prestige appealed strongly to her cupidity, which had
+been well trained in getting dimes from tight pockets in cheap cafes and
+ten, twenty and thirty theatres, but she had seen a grouping of Dennis
+Farraday's name in the paper a few days ago with the names of some young
+New York multimillionaires in a National Commission, and she knew that
+he and his "pile" were worthy of the effort of her charms. Also she had
+seen big, broad,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> breezy, gallant Dennis himself at luncheon with Mr.
+Vandeford in the Astor not ten days before, and her designs had been
+decidedly set in his direction. To her thinking, big, broad, breezy,
+gallant men were always easy. As Susette enveloped her rosiness from the
+sea air in a soft white cloud of chiffon and embroidery, removed the
+rose mules from her feet, helped her in between the fragrant linen
+sheets that were as soft as rich silk, threw over her a rose-colored
+puff of silk and lace and down, turned on her reading lamp, upon whose
+shade wanton fauns and nymphs sported, piled her pillows high and left
+her, the scales were about going down on the side in which was placed
+"The Purple Slipper," Mr. Dennis Farraday&mdash;and Miss Patricia Adair, who
+at that time was the unknown quantity which Fate often throws in any
+balance.</p>
+
+<p>With a luxurious sigh and flexing of her long, supple body the Violet
+picked up the business-like copy of the Violet manuscript which Mr.
+Adolph Meyers had sent her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>stead of the beribboned, purple
+"Renunciation of Rosalind," and began to read the first page when the
+telephone beside her bed rang with a soft tinkle. She picked up the
+ivory receiver and into it murmured a softly tentative:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Farraday! How are you?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, this is Violet Hawtry."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Deliciously well, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he's here, but the gay young thing has gone to bed hours ago."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Most interesting for me, but I have to submit."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, lovely. Do come. I'll adore having him routed out for you. Of
+course we'll go with you. I had forgot that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> Simone was to dance at the
+Beach Inn to-night."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"No indeed, I have not undressed at all. I was going to study a part
+to-night."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure Godfrey can be dressed in half an hour, and it will take even
+your Surreness that time to get here. Take the beach road; it's fine.
+Good-by then. In half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>With which ending and beginning the Violet hung up the ivory receiver
+and rang for Susette. The summons was answered by Mrs. Aline Hawtry,
+<i>n&eacute;e</i> Maggie Murphy the first, an embarrassing but in a manner cherished
+relict of the Hawtry past life in Weehawken.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure, and the little Frinchy is a-bed, Mag! What be ye wanting? The
+night is after sneaking out the back door of the morning." Mrs. Hawtry,
+once Murphy, was a big bonny edition of the Violet grown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> into a cabbage
+rose and her voice was also of the same rich texture.</p>
+
+<p>"Rout out Godfrey, Ma, and then stir up Susette with a hot stick. Mr.
+Dennis Farraday is coming down to take us over to see Simone dance at
+the Beach Inn. I want him to see me instead of Simone. Hurry!"</p>
+
+<p>"The poor dear boy, after a hard day in the cruel hot city. Alack!"
+moaned Mrs. Maggie as she billowed across to Mr. Vandeford's door and
+knocked. Then she paused and knocked again. From neither knock did she
+receive an answer as the moment was just about the one in which he had
+boarded the New York bound train a half mile up the beach down which Mr.
+Dennis Farraday was racing.</p>
+
+<p>When a search of the unresponsive room had convinced the Violet of his
+flight, for a moment her eyes were stormy, then her face cleared with a
+smile of delight, and as she padded back to her room and the waiting
+Susette, to herself she purred:</p>
+
+<p>"Nobody can beat my luck."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+
+<p>There is a certain kind of man over whom all other men smile inwardly.
+The tone of voice in which they speak of him has an affectionate growl,
+which, once heard, cannot be mistaken. Such a man is apt to cherish what
+other men call "impossible ideals about women," and it behooves his
+masculine friends to watch out for him carefully lest he come a cropper.
+Mr. Dennis Farraday was such a man among men, and Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+loved him deeply. They had met when they were both twenty-three, on
+board a tramp steamer, bound for adventure in South Africa, and in the
+seven years that had elapsed since then they had spent periods of time
+together, in various kinds of sports. Killing time on Broadway was about
+the only sport that they had not tried together. By very solid banking
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> brokering Mr. Vandeford enjoyed and increased for himself and an
+aristocratic, Knickerbocker-descended mother a few ancestral millions.
+Incidentally, he took care of the sole hundred thousand dollars of which
+Mr. Vandeford's high financiering on Broadway had left him possessed.
+Mr. Farraday and Mrs. Justus Farraday represented the sole family ties
+possessed by Mr. Vandeford, and he considered them both most valuable.
+In fact, the maternal regard of Mrs. Justus Farraday was looked upon by
+Mr. Vandeford as his chief treasure and sheet-anchor in times of the
+high winds of life.</p>
+
+<p>"What makes you do it, Van?" questioned Mr. Farraday, as he sat with Mr.
+Vandeford in the early morning in the latter's rooms after the tumult of
+the first night of the unsuccessful "Miss Cut-up."</p>
+
+<p>"Excitement," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he put his bare heels,
+protruding from his Chinese slippers, up on the edge of the mahogany
+reading-table in his living-room, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> began to pull at a long,
+evil-smelling, briar pipe. "Nothing like it."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you really care for all that noise, those explosions of chorus
+girls, sweating stage hands, cursing director and cursing star, paint,
+powder, electricity, paper walls and furniture, call-bells and
+hand-clapping from boozy critics in front?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, with a glint in his eyes deep
+back in his head. "And so would you if you had bet about twenty thousand
+on that combination and could see the people begin to eat it up right
+before your eyes as you sat in a box and watched 'em. When you've backed
+your own combination of inferno on riot, it gives you a thrill to stand
+before the box-office and watch a line of people that stretches to the
+next block plunk down dollars that they have earned at their own
+particular combinations of life to see the combination you have made of
+yours. Why, tears come into my eyes when I see some little, old,
+dried-up seamstress pay a dollar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> to sit in the roost to see Gerald
+Height love the powder off of Violet while she is cursing him under her
+breath for so doing, and it tickles me under my ribs to see some fat,
+jolly, lonely, old party buy a front seat two days hand-running to sit
+and watch Mazie Villines dance over her own head and take the child out
+to supper afterward in all propriety. It does him good all over after
+selling white goods in Squeedunck, Illinois, eleven and three-quarter
+months of every year. It's all to the good, Denny, and I wish you could
+get the drag of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it would be well if I could," agreed Mr. Farraday, as he rose
+and shook his big, lithe body with the agility of a frolicsome puppy who
+knows he is going into mischief, and looked cautiously at Godfrey. "Is
+backing the life of the Violet sport, too?" he ventured.</p>
+
+<p>"Best I know. Took nothing and made it into something in five years. If
+it bites my hand that's all in the game."</p>
+
+<p>"Same force could beget and train about<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> eleven small Vandefords into
+pretty good American citizens," Mr. Farraday snapped out, and then
+backed away.</p>
+
+<p>"Absinthe cocktails ruin the taste for sweet milk. Don't talk about
+things you know nothing about; thank God for that same ignorance," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded. "Go to bed and sleep like the cherub you are, while
+I expiate here with my pipe."</p>
+
+<p>From that conversation it was natural to man nature that the demand for
+a half-interest in the next Hawtry show would have been made by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and acceded to with the
+brotherly reservations already related. The eye-teeth of Mr. Dennis
+Farraday were very precious to Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and he had the
+intention of taking great care that their edges should not be dulled. It
+was well that he did not know that the eleven-fifteen train he had taken
+in his flight to New York passed the huge, eight-cylinder Surreness of
+his beloved Jonathan in its race<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> up the beach for the home of the
+Violet.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when all is said and considered, a large admiration is due and much
+should be forgiven Miss Violet Hawtry, who, as half-starved Maggie
+Murphy, had darted out of the gutter into the back stage-door at the age
+of fifteen, snapped her huge violet eyes with their fringes of black,
+trilled a vulgar, Irish street song in accompaniment to sundry
+provocative swayings of her lissome, maturing young body, and thus had
+made enough impression on her world to hang on by the tips of her
+fingers until she dropped into the outstretched arms of Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford, who was prowling around Weehawken and the vicinity for just
+such ripe fruit as she when he was casting his first musical girl-show
+for the purpose of some violent excitement after a snowed-in winter in
+the Klondike.</p>
+
+<p>He had taken her to an old stage-mother he knew, had her thoroughly
+washed, combed, manicured, dressed, schooled, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> had given her the
+benefit of his respect for five years while she worked up into the star
+of "Dear Geraldine" with all the might of the Irish eyes and lissome
+figure and cooing, creamy voice. He had then built Highcliff in the
+artist's colony of the Beach for the joint domicile of mother and
+daughter. However, it is easier to bathe, comb, manicure, and
+luxuriously clothe a body than it is to renovate a soul, and within the
+Violet Maggie dwelt in all her gutter vigor. It is also safe to say that
+perhaps it was no little part of the Maggie that the beautiful and
+haughty Violet threw across the footlights to draw to her the primitive
+in the hearts of her vast audiences. It was to some extent the wisdom of
+Maggie that the Violet was using as she prepared for her first encounter
+alone with Mr. Dennis Farraday as he raced down the moonlit beach to
+her.</p>
+
+<p>"Not the violet and jet, Susette, but that white embroidered lisle, and
+take time to sew three inches of tulle around the top of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> bodice in
+front and put folds five inches deep across the back. Let it come just
+below the shoulder," she commanded, as she commenced the whirlwind of a
+toilette with which, she had assured the hurrying Dennis, she was
+already adorned.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Mais</i>,
+Mademoiselle&mdash;" Susette began.</p>
+
+<p>"He'd shy at too much omitted clothing when we are alone. I'll have to
+introduce him to myself gradually," she answered the protest, laughing
+as she tossed her pale, yellow mane high on her head, and dabbed a
+little curl against her cheek with the rose oil, and made a skilful use
+of the lip-stick brought by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford from the famed
+Celeste's.</p>
+
+<p>"He will behold that
+<a name="corr8" id="corr8"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn8" title="changed from 'Madamoiselle'">Mademoiselle</a>
+Simone dance with very few garments
+<i>alors</i>," Susette pouted as she laid in the folds of modest tulle.</p>
+
+<p>"But he won't be alone in the moonlight with her, that is, if I can help
+it," answered the mistress, as she further perfumed and painted the lily
+of her beauty. "Don't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> worry, Susette; I'm going to give monsieur the
+time of his life."</p>
+
+<p>"That is without saying,
+<a name="corr9" id="corr9"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn9" title="changed from 'Madamoiselle'">Mademoiselle</a>,"
+answered Susette, as she slipped
+the silky fluff over the Violet's head, and fastened the one or two
+hooks that held it in place over the filmy undergarments in which the
+Violet stood waiting for its veiling. "<i>Mon Dieu</i>, what a beauty it
+gives you, and that placing of the tulle is <i>ravissant</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"That is what I meant it to be," laughed the Violet. "There's his car!
+Bring me that orchid wrap when I ring for it." And leaving the
+admiration of Susette, the Violet hurried down to drink from the cup of
+the same vintage she was sure would be offered her by Mr. Dennis
+Farraday. It was offered.</p>
+
+<p>"It's awfully good of you people to help a poor lonely dub to a pleasant
+evening," were the words with which the victim greeted the Violet, while
+his eyes offered the expected portion of admiration as he beheld her
+bathed in the radiance of the moon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sure the pleasure is ours&mdash;or rather mine, poor old Van," she answered,
+with not a little trepidation well hidden under her rich voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Couldn't you wake him up, the old scout? Let me get to him. I have a
+way with him I learned in the Nova Scotia woods." Mr. Farraday laughed a
+big laugh, which had in it the tang of the breeze in the tops of
+pine-trees. But the Violet was ready for him.</p>
+
+<p>"He's not there for your torture. The poor darling got a telephone
+message just twenty minutes ago to come back to New York to-night. I've
+just motored him up the beach to catch the eleven-fifteen train. Some
+day that tiresome Dolph will follow Van about some play snarl into&mdash;into
+Paradise."</p>
+
+<p>"He did that to-night, didn't he?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a merry
+laugh as he ruffled his red forelock up off his broad brow, and made
+himself look like a huge, tame lion.</p>
+
+<p>"Away with your blarney, boy!" laughed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> the Violet, in return, using her
+Maggie Murphy form of speech with telling effect, as she often did. "He
+left a thousand apologies for you," she added, slipping back into her
+veneer of the&mdash;for Maggie&mdash;upper world. "And you've had your race down
+for nothing; poor Simone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I say, can't we just go on over to supper at the Beach Inn? The
+Clyde Trevors asked me, and we can have supper with them. Wouldn't you
+like that? We can tell them about poor Van." He was as eager as a boy in
+his friendly efforts to mend what he thought must be a broken evening
+for her.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd love it," answered the Violet, with a flash of her white teeth and
+violet eyes at him.</p>
+
+<p>After a summons Susette appeared with the alluring orchid garment, and a
+white film of seed-pearls for her mistress's hair. She assisted the
+Violet's discreet Japanese butler to put them into the big car, which
+Mr. Farraday was driving himself, and then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> stood for a minute watching
+them hurl themselves away across the white sand.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Quelle vie!</i>" she muttered to herself as she turned back into the
+darkened house.</p>
+
+<p>The Beach Inn was aglow and
+<a name="corr10" id="corr10"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn10" title="changed from 'atinkle'">atwinkle</a>
+and in full laugh as they ascended
+the steps of the wide veranda hung out over the ocean, where members and
+guests were having supper at small tables lit with shaded lamps. Men and
+girls, in bathing suits that were lineal descendants of the scant
+fig-leaf, were eating and drinking together sparsely because of their
+intention of taking a midnight plunge in the breakers under the hot
+moon, while other women in radiant evening garb were almost as scantily
+attired, though attended by stuffily garbed men. Most of the parties
+turned and called a laughing greeting to the Violet, for they were the
+men and women of her world disporting themselves away from Broadway, and
+Clyde Trevor, who had written the book for "Miss Cut-up," rose and came
+over to claim his guests.</p>
+
+<p>"Lost Van?" he questioned, as he led them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> to their seats beside Mrs.
+Trevor, who had danced fifty thousand dollars out of New York the winter
+just ended. His voice held a hint of irony, which the Violet got and Mr.
+Dennis Farraday missed.</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite yet," she said, with a coo at which Trevor smiled, and under
+his breath he gave her the word, "Good hunting!"</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks."</p>
+
+<p>"Old Van had to hop back to New York on the eleven-fifteen, but we came
+on to glad with you anyway," Mr. Farraday was saying to Mrs. Trevor,
+with an ingenuous smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Go to it, baby," commanded Trevor to his wife, as a rich negro melody
+began to fling its invitation against the roaring call of the ocean, and
+at his word Simone rose from the seat of Mrs. Trevor and slid out into
+the cleared space at the head of the steps.</p>
+
+<p>"Just in time," commented Mr. Farraday under his breath, as he turned
+his chair to watch her drop her silk coat, and float out on the waves of
+sound just as she would later<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> float on the waves of the ocean after she
+had plunged from the steps to lead the midnight bathing in the surf, for
+which the management of the inn paid her the sum of two hundred dollars
+per plunge.</p>
+
+<p>All of this gaiety and amusement was just a prelude to the ride home in
+the moonlight, which the Violet took with good Dennis Farraday and
+during which she discovered that there is such a thing as honor among
+men about poaching on other men's preserves, and during which, also, the
+fate of Major Adair, Patricia, Roger, and old black Jeff hung in the
+balance.</p>
+
+<p>"Just what are we racing?" she questioned as they flew along the beach
+with rubber tires that just skimmed the hard, white sand.</p>
+
+<p>"A bit fast?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a protective laugh, as he slowed
+down the flight.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's loaf and talk a while," the Violet answered, with a tentative
+note of invitation in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I had thought you and Van and I would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> have a great powwow over the
+play this evening, and it's fierce that he had to get back to that
+furnace a night like this, but we can limp along on a few ideas without
+him, maybe. What do you think of 'The Purple Slipper'?" As he set the
+car at an easy pace he turned and looked down at the lovely face so near
+his shoulder with a great and extremely boyish enthusiasm, which was
+very delightful and very irritating to the Violet.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you think about it? You tell first," she said with a smile that
+answered his enthusiasm adequately and which served to cover with
+agility the fact that she had not read the play.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at first it seemed a queer kind of vehicle for you, but as I read
+on I could see you queening it in all those furbelows of dress as well
+as adventure and sentiment. It's a little serious in situation, but it
+is full of comedy adventure in line, and I can just see the audience eat
+you up in it. I told Van so, and I bought in before I had read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> more
+than half the second act. I don't feel as though I could wait to see you
+in that dinner scene while you hold the enemies of your spouse
+confounded. I agree with Van that your emotional qualities may exceed
+your comedy."</p>
+
+<p>"Does Van back my emotional acting against my comedy?" the Violet asked,
+with barely concealed surprise in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"He does. He says that 'The Purple Slipper' is going to be the sensation
+of Broadway for the early fall, and I agree with him. Do you feel as
+sure of it as he says you are?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered the Violet, and by her assent in premeditated ignorance
+of the contents of the play manuscript she put the second cross on the
+production which made it a double on the fate of Mr. Dennis Farraday as
+a theatrical producer. However, that fact may have been balanced by the
+fact that it was the third cross on the fate of Miss Patricia Adair.
+Crosses on fates in the world of Broadway go in singles, dou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>bles, and
+threes, and no man can tell their exact significance.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" answered Mr. Dennis Farraday, with another and still broader
+smile of gratification and admiration of the Violet as an artist&mdash;a
+smile which further infuriated, but equally inspired her. "And what a
+grand time we'll all have putting it across! I'm going to help Van see
+actors for the cast on Friday, and I'm going to sit in on rehearsals
+straight through. I'm due a month's vacation, and I'm going to have my
+mail from the office relayed back to New York from the yacht off
+Nantucket so that bunch of money grubbers can't find me. Think of having
+the honor of being co-producer for Violet Hawtry for my first shot!"</p>
+
+<p>All of which enthusiasm and admiration went like wine to the head of the
+Violet, though it left her heart uncomfortably cold; and beautiful, cool
+moonlight heats the heart of a fair woman when it is not more than two
+feet away from that of a brave and fair man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sure I'll make it a success for you, man dear!" Maggie Murphy in the
+Violet made an attempt to put a glow into the situation, using the
+brogue that was like rich cream poured over peaches, as she snuggled her
+bare shoulder, from which the orchid wrap had slipped, with a natural
+little shiver against good Dennis's wheel arm.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Van are trumps to take me in for the fun, and I'm no end
+grateful to you both," was all she got for her man&oelig;uver.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes&mdash;Van is a dear," she hedged in a matter-of-fact voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and I suppose after my co-first night with him the old scout will
+stop baiting me about blinking the white lights. I always have been
+obliged to beat Van at any game before I could rest in peace." And at
+the thought of getting in at his David big Jonathan laughed heartily
+just as he began to slow up the car for the turn along the sea-wall that
+led under the porch of
+<a name="corr11" id="corr11"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn11" title="changed from 'Highcliffe'">Highcliff</a>.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you ever competed with him in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> biggest game of all?" the
+Violet asked softly, as the car swept into the shadow and stopped by the
+broad stone steps.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, with a countenance so open
+and a voice so hearty that the Violet, used to artifice from everybody,
+suspected that they could not be real, and this suspicion made her give
+up the game for the time being. She laughed with a mocking sweetness as
+she sprang out of the car and to the top of the steps before he could
+help her.</p>
+
+<p>"Some day I'll tell you what I mean," she mocked from the dark doorway.
+"Good-night!" And while he stood at the bottom step looking up at her,
+she vanished into the darkness of the house, leaving him out in the cool
+moonlight, a fate very different from what she had been planning for him
+for several hours.</p>
+
+<p>"Just as old Van said, they are nothing but children, and I blame him
+about trifling with her more than I thought I did; she's a dear thing
+and a little pathetic in her anxiety<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> to make good for him. Scout has
+just got to do something about it all. She's a fine and devoted woman.
+And beautiful&mdash;whee-ugh!" The big thirty-year-old boy ended his
+soliloquy with a whistle, which showed that in a measure he had
+appreciated the dangers of the last hours. One of the eternal questions
+is how can a mere man be so wicked&mdash;or so good as he is often discovered
+by temptation to be?</p>
+
+<p>"I'll have to be publicly and finally severed from Van before I annex
+him, the boob," was the soliloquy of the Violet as she prepared for her
+slumber of beauty. Another question is how thin a veneer of feminine
+beauty weathers indefinitely the wash of circumstances.</p>
+
+<p>Then after that moonlit night in August Fate spun her web, which she
+called "The Purple Slipper," rapidly, and for a number of the people
+involved life became very hectic. The center of the whirl was Mr. Adolph
+Meyers, though he was safely functioning with power behind the throne
+occu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>pied by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's nonchalant and elegantly clad
+figure.</p>
+
+<p>"But Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is never before that you have produced a
+play without a reading," he remonstrated on the morning of the day set
+for the picking of the cast from those probably suitable chosen by
+Chambers, the invaluable agent of the great army of those theatrically
+employed. "Actors will be here from twelve o'clock even to six. How will
+a choice be made?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm trusting to your hunch about the purple manuscript falling on the
+day of the Violet letter, Pops," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "Make
+out a little memorandum against each name that tells me what to pick. I
+like the idea of going it blind that way: it may be lucky. And, Pops,
+split that five-thousand-dollar check of Mr. Farraday's in three ways.
+Pay Lindenberg two-fifty as his advance on the scenery for 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' provided he furbishes up something that will do for the
+little road sally of Violet's spanking-machine, to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> be emblazoned as
+'The Purple Slipper' on the cheapest black bills ever run off in New
+York. Give Hugh Willings a thousand advance for the music of 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' but make him write as many as six waltz songs even if you
+are sure the first is a hit; it is good to make people, specially any
+kind of artists, work for the money you pay 'em. The other fifteen
+hundred you had better put off by itself as a starter on the Violet's
+gowns. She likes to pay an Irish woman with a French name three hundred
+dollars for six dollars' worth of chiffon sewed with seventy-five cents'
+worth of silk."</p>
+
+<p>"What is for costumes for the 'Purple Slipper'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, any old dolling up will do for that. The women can wear what
+they've got and the men borrow or rent." With a wave of the cigarette in
+his hand, Mr. Vandeford dismissed the scenic effects of the play for
+whose d&eacute;but Miss Elvira Henderson was concocting a dream costume to
+adorn the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> author for receiving triumphal plaudits.</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is a costume play of a period," the humble
+power behind the throne pleaded.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, is it? Then rent the nearest layout to its date that Grossmidt has
+for all of 'em in a lump, and make him give you a bargain. Tell him they
+won't be worn more than two weeks. I guess Violet will be in line by
+that time." With which significant order Mr. Godfrey Vandeford turned
+from the anxious Mr. Meyers to answer the tinkling telephone at his
+elbow. In a second he was speaking to the most eminent stage director on
+Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, this is Godfrey Vandeford, Bill."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Called to know if you would like to stage a little show for me
+right away."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I'm going to give Hawtry a little canter before 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl.' New<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> line for her, and doubtful. Like to take hold for a
+pittance?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, that three hundred a week for the 'Posie Girl' goes, of
+course, but this play is just a Hawtry whim that I have got to let her
+get out of her system. One hundred a week is my limit, and you ought to
+do it for seventy-five. You can sit in your chair all the time for all I
+care."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Now you get me&mdash;a hundred it is. Let her have her head and work off
+steam before we start 'The Rosie Posie.' Yes, Willings is doing the
+Rosie songs for us. They'll be hot stuff."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Corbett's making sketches for 'The Rosie Posie' scenery now. We'll
+start 'The Purple Slipper' on Monday. Yes, that's its blooming name.
+By!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"Is it William Rooney to stage 'The Purple Slipper'?" asked Mr. Meyers,
+with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> shrug of his narrow shoulders as he began pecking out on his
+machine the notes that were to guide his chief in picking the artists
+who were to embody the characters in the play founded on the life
+romance of that old grandame Madam Patricia Adair of colonial Kentucky.</p>
+
+<p>"Why do you reckon Samuel Goldstein likes to build up a reputation for
+himself on Broadway by the name of William Rooney, Pops?" inquired Mr.
+Vandeford, with the idle curiosity of a free and untroubled mind.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the prejudice against Hebrews for a reason," answered Mr. Meyers,
+with a glint in his gem-like eyes and a wave of color flushing across
+his high, scholarly forehead.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, the top crust of the whole show business is Hebrew, and I should
+think the bunch of you would be proud of the fact. I'm even proud that a
+man named Adolph Meyers runs this whole company, and me included," said
+Mr. Vandeford, without taking the trouble to note the wave of gratified
+pride, devotion, and embarrassment that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> swept over the countenance of
+his faithful henchman. "Now I'll get a little booking for your 'Purple
+Slipper,' and that is all you need expect me to do, except shoulder all
+the loss I haven't shunted on Denny."</p>
+
+<p>"It is to be a win, not a loss," murmured the loyal Adolph under his
+breath, with a glance of affection at the absorbed Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>This vow of Mr. Adolph Meyers shows that it is as dangerous to arouse
+the affection and loyalty of one genius as it is to incur the anger of
+another.</p>
+
+<p>The casting of "The Purple Slipper" was a joy to Mr. Dennis Farraday. He
+was to pay well for it in the future, but it was conducted in pure glee.
+He sat beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford in the latter's long, Persian
+carpeted, soft-tinted, and famous-actor-photograph-bedecked, private
+office beside that eminent producer, and watched the strong light from
+over their shoulders reveal the points of the men and women who came in
+to exhibit themselves. From the moment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> they entered the door, through
+the walk or waddle or lope or saunter with which they approached their
+fate to the expressions of joy or disappointment which their emotions
+showed under Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's grilling, Mr. Farraday was deeply
+interested.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, B&eacute;b&eacute;, it is not necessary to put on more than a hundred extra
+pounds when in training for the heavy mother," he genially admonished a
+very large lady of uncertain age&mdash;an age artfully covered with rouge,
+powder, pencil, and lip-stick&mdash;who sank into the chair facing him with a
+pathetic remnant of the former lissome grace which had got her as far as
+being a dependable leading woman to any star who could go her a few
+points better.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it's not from living on large salaries from you that I have put
+on the pounds, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford!" she answered with a jovial laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Still eating half of old Wallace Kent's salary checks?" Mr. Vandeford
+demanded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> This seemed a lack of delicacy to Mr. Dennis Farraday, who
+blushed with a color equal to that which rose in the cheeks of the old
+beauty as her eyes snapped and she rose to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"As you know, he's feeding a squab chicken at Rector's to get her into
+the broiler class. Good-day, sir," and she prepared to sweep out of the
+office with all the fire she had used in many a queenly situation.</p>
+
+<p>"Good old B&eacute;b&eacute;," Mr. Vandeford said, as he rose and put a restraining
+arm around her broad waist. "I was just teasing to see what was
+smouldering. How'll seventy-five a week, with costumes of frills and
+powdered hair, do you? Thirty sides and the center of the stage four
+times." "Sides," meaning single sheets of dialogue, puzzled Mr.
+Farraday, but he made a mental note to seek enlightenment.</p>
+
+<p>"I haven't had a part this winter, Godfrey," she laughed, and sobbed on
+Mr. Vandeford's shoulder. "I'm living in a suitcase at Mrs. Pinkham's."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Stop and get a twenty-five check from Dolph, and be on the job Monday
+at the Barrett Theatre. Now run!" Mr. Vandeford gave Miss B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne's
+two hundred pounds of avoirdupois a gentle shove toward the door, which
+hint she took with an alacrity that had in it a great deal of left-over
+grace.</p>
+
+<p>"Supported a lot of big guns for years. Knows her business better than
+any actress on Broadway," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to his horrified
+confr&egrave;re as the door closed behind the old beauty. "Picked up Wallace
+Kent when he was a piffling, faded juvenile, and taught him to be a good
+elderly support worth his hundred to any director. He's left her flat
+for a pony in the Big Show, old hound!"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty raw," observed Mr. Dennis Farraday, with a great deal of emotion
+very poorly concealed in his sympathetic voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, she's had her fling in life! Dopes a bit, but can be depended upon.
+Next!"</p>
+
+<p>This time there entered a husky, young brute of a boy with shoulders
+broad enough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> to run a double-decker plough. His hair was long and
+sleeked close to his well-shaped head, but his fine mouth and chin
+sagged, and his eyes were bold and sophisticated. In costume he was the
+glass and mould of Broadway fashion.</p>
+
+<p>"Reginald Leigh," he announced himself in a nice voice, and, as he
+spoke, took from a case a card and laid it on the edge of Mr.
+Vandeford's desk.</p>
+
+<p>"Experience, Mr. Leigh?" asked Mr. Vandeford, still standing and with
+not an atom of encouragement in his whole body from head to toe.</p>
+
+<p>"College dramatics and last summer in stock at Buffalo. I've worked in
+two pictures for the Universal."</p>
+
+<p>"Heavy juvenile at fifty a week," offered Mr. Vandeford, with an
+indifferent glance up from the paper in his hand prepared for his
+guidance by the indefatigable Mr. Meyers. The word "handsome" was typed
+in the offer from which Mr. Vandeford made to Mr. Leigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My price is a hundred, Mr. Vandeford," answered Mr. Leigh, very
+pleasantly, and he took a grip on his hat and stick that was meant to
+convey the idea of immediate departure.</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a finality that staggered Mr.
+Dennis Farraday; for the youngster's looks and charm were so evident
+that it pained him to see "The Purple Slipper" lose them. "Costumes
+historical, furnished," added Mr. Vandeford, with increased
+indifference.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, in that case&mdash;" murmured the boy, almost, but not quite, unleashing
+his eagerness.</p>
+
+<p>"Just leave your telephone number with Mr. Meyers in the outer office,
+please. Good-morning, Mr. Leigh," was the answer his concession got
+along with the dismissal in the "good-morning," which was spoken in such
+a tone that it was obeyed in short order.</p>
+
+<p>"That is a find," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to the gasping Mr. Dennis
+Farraday.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> "Handsome young chaps who have any kind of manliness are hard
+to find these days. Too busy to be actors."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you engage him?" further gasped his partner in the adventure
+of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll let him cool his heels, to get some of the know-it out of his
+system. Dolph will make him come around and beg in less than twenty-four
+hours."</p>
+
+<p>"See here, Van, these people are artists to whom you are trusting your
+money and reputation as a producer, and you treat them like&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The foolish children that they are," interrupted Mr. Vandeford. "Next!"
+and he pressed a button under his desk that buzzed for Mr. Meyers's ears
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>The next three applicants were girls, who respectively giggled,
+glowered, and simpered. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford chose the two who glowered
+and simpered and got rid of the giggler by referring her telephone
+number to Mr. Adolph Meyers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That second that you sent away was the prettiest of the bunch,"
+commented Mr. Dennis Farraday, with interest that had survived to that
+point with undiminished intensity.</p>
+
+<p>"Not at home under that little cocked hat. That giggle was the whole bag
+of tricks," instructed Mr. Vandeford. "Got any men out there, Pops?" he
+asked through the telephone to Mr. Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately there entered a debonair, very handsome, and sleek gentleman
+of uncertain age.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Kent, want to support B&eacute;b&eacute; in a costume play for a hundred a
+week?" asked Mr. Vandeford, with not an instant's greeting in answer to
+that gentleman's cordial good-morning.</p>
+
+<p>"In New York or on the road?" questioned Mr. Kent, with an assurance
+that he tried to make bold.</p>
+
+<p>"To the devil if I send you there," was the answer he got straight off
+the bat.</p>
+
+<p>"A hundred with costumes?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"With costumes."</p>
+
+<p>"Done."</p>
+
+<p>"See Dolph; but not over ten-dollar advance to save your hide."</p>
+
+<p>"He's giving fifty."</p>
+
+<p>"To whom?"</p>
+
+<p>"B&eacute;b&eacute;."</p>
+
+<p>"He did that because he knew that you'd get half of what he gave her.
+Ten's your limit."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Good-morning!"</p>
+
+<p>"Barrett on Monday morning."</p>
+
+<p>"All right!"</p>
+
+<p>With which Mr. Kent rapidly made his exit.</p>
+
+<p>"Old reprobate! But he does feed the lines to his opposite, and B&eacute;b&eacute;
+happy is worth twice B&eacute;b&eacute; in a grouch. You see what the whole blamed
+thing is like and&mdash;" Mr. Vandeford was interrupted by the tinkle of the
+telephone at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Godfrey Vandeford speaking."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a>
+</span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"When did you get in?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Not busy at all."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"The Claridge?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Right away."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't seen or heard from him in two days."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Right over. By!"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>From overhearing, as he was forced to do, this one-sided conversation,
+how could Mr. Dennis Farraday imagine that Violet Hawtry had come into
+sultry New York seeking him to devour and that his keeper was rushing
+away from his presence to his defense?</p>
+
+<p>"You and Pops engage the rest, Denny. You see the trick now. Nothing
+left im<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>portant but what Dolph puts down on this paper as 'woman support
+for character parts with looks.' Try your hand, old man, and if you pick
+a flivver there are plenty more to cast in and her out. By!" And before
+Mr. Farraday could protest he was left alone in the inquisition-room.
+And as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford went down in an elevator on his way to the
+Claridge to deliver the next instalment of the spanking of Miss Violet
+Hawtry, he passed a live wire going up opposite him and met one walking
+down Forty-second Street, neither of which he could be expected to
+recognize, as he had never seen either.</p>
+
+<p>The first of the two dynamos walked into the office of the Vandeford
+Producing Company and failed to thrill Mr. Adolph Meyers in the least, a
+fact for which he could never afterward account. He motioned her into
+the inner office, and left her to her fate and Mr. Dennis Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Vandeford," she said in a queer, throaty kind of
+voice that had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> in it a "come hither" of unusual quality, which
+suggested that in her production a Romney woman might have loved a Greek
+dancer well. She stood at ease before the long desk with a grace that
+was unmistakably that of complete assurance.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not Mr. Vandeford, but his&mdash;his partner, Dennis Farraday. Er&mdash;er,
+won't you be seated?" and with the happy, considerate manner of his that
+he had always used to all women, he offered her his own chair and
+appropriated the one of authority that Mr. Vandeford always occupied.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," answered the young woman, with an ease equal to his own.
+And then they both waited while regarding each other seriously. Finally
+the tension relaxed and Dennis Farraday gave a big, jovial laugh while
+he made his admission:</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know a thing about the play business. I'm just sitting in with
+Mr. Vandeford for the fun of it."</p>
+
+<p>"An angel?" asked the girl, with a laugh that somehow accorded with
+his.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's it. He's gone out and left me to&mdash;to cut my eye teeth."</p>
+
+<p>"On me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Looks that way," and again they both laughed.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I can help you," volunteered the girl, after the laugh. "I am
+Mildred Lindsey, and Mr. Chambers sent me in to see if I could support
+Miss Hawtry."</p>
+
+<p>"Er&mdash;er, what experience?" Mr. Dennis Farraday managed to ask by fishing
+into his impressions of the last two hours.</p>
+
+<p>"Five years in stock on the Pacific coast, two years in towns between,
+and two weeks in a flivver here on Broadway early in the spring. Dead
+broke, hungry, and about ready to make good for some manager." As the
+answer was fired point-blank at him, Mr. Dennis Farraday seemed to see a
+fire of psychic hunger blaze as high as that of wolfish, physical agony
+in the girl's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dennis Farraday eagerly searched on the paper of guidance in casting
+made out by Mr. Adolph Meyers for the benefit of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> Mr. Vandeford and
+found "woman support," and opposite the item of salary, seventy-five
+dollars. He doubled.</p>
+
+<p>"How would a hundred and fifty a week with costumes do for salary? You
+can have a couple of weeks advance right now if you like," he said in an
+easy, nonchalant manner as much like that of Mr. Vandeford as he could
+muster, for those fires of hunger in the girl's eyes were searching
+holes in Mr. Dennis Farraday's pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"It would save my life&mdash;but&mdash;but could you tell me a little about the
+part? I might not be able to play it." There were both hope and fear in
+her compelling voice.</p>
+
+<p>The question found Mr. Dennis Farraday unprepared by any precedent
+established in the two foregoing hours, for between the artists and Mr.
+Vandeford there had been alone the matter of salary to be settled and
+not one of them had inquired whether they were being engaged to play a
+Billy Sunday or an Ethiopian slave. But in another way it found him
+better prepared<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> than would have been Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. He had read
+the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford had not.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to my uninitiated way of thinking, the supporting part is about
+as good as the leading one," said Mr. Dennis Farraday, and forthwith he
+launched out on an eager, enthusiastic resum&eacute; of the plot and
+atmosphere, even quoting lines of "The Purple Slipper." And as he talked
+Mildred Lindsey leaned across the table toward him and fairly drank in
+his words.</p>
+
+<p>"I see&mdash;it's wonderful how she keeps his enemies at bay during the first
+half of the banquet&mdash;while she waits. It's great!" Her enthusiasm
+expressed in her wonderful voice urged Mr. Dennis Farraday on and on to
+a fuller exposition of the play and its beauties.</p>
+
+<p>"You see, the sister is really the one to carry the plot. It is on her
+that Rosalind leans, and she has to be all there in her quiet way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I see, and it can be made&mdash;" At this juncture the eye of Mr.
+Adolph Meyer was inserted to a crack of the door and then removed as he
+shook his head in puzzled doubt. He had intended to intrude to the
+rescue of his
+<a name="corr12" id="corr12"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn12" title="changed from coemployer's">co-employer's</a>
+inexperience, but he decided that the time
+was not ripe by one glance at Mr. Farraday's eager face, surmounted by
+its rampant, red leonine locks.</p>
+
+<p>"I have pity for Mr. Farraday," Mr. Meyers remarked to himself as he
+seated himself at his machine, not knowing that in a very few minutes
+the second live wire would arrive in the office and this time he would
+get a shock himself.</p>
+
+<p>For a half-hour he wrote on, while the animated voices boomed and purled
+and bubbled in the office beyond the crack of the door he had left open
+to observe the first lull that might call for relief. Then he got his
+shock.</p>
+
+<p>The office door opened timidly, and somebody entered so quietly that she
+stood beside<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> Mr. Adolph Meyers before he had lifted his head.</p>
+
+<p>It was the author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," now "The Purple
+Slipper," and she looked every inch of it! Miss Elvira, the genius
+guided by "The Feminist Review," had done her best with the blue-silk
+suit, and Fifth Avenue could have done no better.</p>
+
+<p>"May I see Mr. Vandeford? I am Miss Patricia Adair," she announced in a
+rich and calm Southern voice and manner.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Adolph Meyers sprang to his feet with the impact of the shock.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford is not in the office, Madam, at present," he managed to
+gasp. Then he followed her big, gray eyes as they rested on the crack of
+the door through which the boom of Mr. Dennis Farraday's voice mingled
+with the excited chime of Miss Lindsey's laughter, and noticed as though
+for the first time that it had emblazoned upon it in large, gilt
+letters, "Mr. Vandeford. Private."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It is Mr. Dennis Farraday, the partner of Mr. Vandeford, engaging
+actors, Miss, in his absence. Will you walk in?" and in almost the first
+panic in which he had ever indulged Mr. Adolph Meyers showed the proud
+young author into the sanctum sanctorum from which he had barricaded
+many an enraged virago who had threatened his life if he kept her from
+an appeal to the manager.</p>
+
+<p>"It is Miss Adair, the author of your play, Mr. Farraday, would speak
+with you," he announced across the long room, bowed in a way he had
+never done in his life, and shut the door behind Miss Adair.</p>
+
+<p>It is interesting to wonder how it would have affected the end of the
+whole matter if Patricia Adair had walked in behind the giggler when Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with all his experience with authors, was seated on
+the throne instead of poor inexperienced Dennis Farraday, enjoying "The
+Purple Slipper" with his newly engaged, supporting lady.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"By jove, Miss Adair, it is little bit of all right that you should come
+in and catch Miss Lindsey and me chewing joy-rags over our&mdash;your play.
+Let me introduce Miss Lindsey, who is to support Miss Hawtry in the part
+of Harriet." And bonnie Dennis, the angel, beamed with pure joy at the
+good time he was having as a producer. At the very sight and sound of
+him poor Patricia, who for half an hour had been wandering up and down
+Forty-second Street, looking for the tallest building on it, took both
+comfort and delight, and her sea-gray eyes with stars in their depths
+returned the beam of his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"It's so wonderful that you like my play and are going to produce
+it&mdash;and you to act in it, Miss Lindsey," she said as she seated herself
+in the chair Mr. Farraday had drawn up for her. She looked at them both
+with respectful awe in her eyes and in her cheeks a flush of color that
+came and went as she spoke, in a way that at first puzzled Miss Lindsey
+as to its brand and then in turn awed her as she decided it was the real
+thing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> The blue-silk triumph of Miss Elvira and "The Review" also
+puzzled her for a moment, but she put it down to some little Fifth
+Avenue shop that only d&eacute;butantes and authors of plays could afford, and
+took it in with delight at its exquisite detail.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it is a dandy play, as Mr. Farraday has been telling it to me.
+Crooks and&mdash;and cut-ups are about done for," said Miss Lindsey. She gave
+a quick glance at Mr. Farraday, to see if he resented the allusion to
+Mr. Vandeford's recent failure.</p>
+
+<p>"Right-o!" agreed Mr. Farraday, with a sympathetic smile at her
+allusion, which passed over the head of the lady from Adairville,
+Kentucky.</p>
+
+<p>Then ensued more than a half-hour of the most enthusiastic discussion of
+plays in general, and Miss Adair's in particular. Both Mr. Dennis
+Farraday and Miss Mildred Lindsey were impressed with the fact that the
+author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind" had learned her business from
+the most erudite sources, and they talked Shakespeare<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> and Fielding
+until they at last wound themselves up into a complete pause.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Adair broke the strain.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm awfully hungry, and I don't know where to go to get something to
+eat," she said, with exactly the same tone of confidence she had used in
+asking old Jeff for a cold muffin in between the meals of her eighth
+summer.</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, we are all hungry! You girls come with me," exclaimed Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, as he jumped to his feet and looked around for his hat.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, but I think I had better go home to&mdash;to see about&mdash;" Miss
+Lindsey was faltering with the embarrassment of those who are both proud
+and hungry, when food is offered them socially.</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! You are coming over to the Claridge with Miss Adair and me
+for a bite. Then you can come back by here and see Dolph.&mdash;Dolph, make
+out a check for Miss Lindsey's advance. Shall we say one or two hundred,
+Miss Lindsey?" Dennis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> Farraday was in his element when doing the breezy
+protective to two girls at once.</p>
+
+<p>"One hundred, please," answered Miss Lindsey, with color mounting to her
+cheeks that underpainted that already there. She smiled with amusement
+at the surprise that manifested itself for an instant on the round face
+of Mr. Meyers that an actress should not "grab" all offered her and then
+plead for more. "But I really do feel that I had better not&mdash;go to
+luncheon, for I am&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Please do! I'd rather you would," the eminent author urged, and she
+clung to the show girl in a way that showed Dennis Farraday, accustomed
+to the women of her world, that vague proprieties were hovering beside
+the gates that were opening for Patricia from her old world into her
+new.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to come, Miss Lindsey, to celebrate, or we shall think you
+are not all for the play," Mr. Farraday said with a finality in his
+voice that settled the matter.</p>
+
+<p>And the three of them scudded along a few blocks of the sun-steamed
+streets into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> the coolness of the Claridge, also into the heart of a
+situation that had been seething for an hour between Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford and Miss Violet Hawtry.</p>
+
+<p>"How wonderful of you, Van dear, to find me such a play at the eleventh
+and three-quarters hour!" had been the volley that Violet had fired at
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad you like it," he had parried, feeling sure that she was jockeying
+with him for position for the clinch.</p>
+
+<p>"Dennis Farraday told me that you were backing my emotional handling
+even more than my comedy scenes. Could you for once be playing square
+with me and really looking forward to my development in getting
+this&mdash;this rather remarkable kind of a play for me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've done my best for you for five years, Violet," he quietly answered
+the insult, as he looked across the empty white tables that stretched
+away from Violet's favorite and reserved seat in the black and gold
+dining-room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'Miss Cut-up,' for instance?"</p>
+
+<p>"There were several ways to put that play across. You had your way in
+every particular. Mine might have succeeded," was his calm answer.</p>
+
+<p>"The really amusing thing about you is that you don't at all know how
+little brains you have," was the polite broadside delivered him as
+Violet began to sip the clear coffee from her cup.</p>
+
+<p>"Same to you," was the reply she received. Godfrey spoke in a
+good-natured tone of voice. "Now, what did you come to town to talk
+about&mdash;'The Purple Slipper'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you leave Highcliff like a thief in the night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did you read the deeds Dolph gave you when he went up to pack my
+personal effects?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, thanks! I suppose you consider Highcliff the price of your
+freedom?"</p>
+
+<p>"And cheap at that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why not turn me over to Weiner?" Violet asked in a dangerous tone
+of voice<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> that made Mr. Vandeford glance around with apprehension to see
+who would witness the explosion if it occurred.</p>
+
+<p>"I tried to buy Denny off yesterday, but you fastened 'The Purple
+Slipper' firmly in his head, maybe his heart, the other evening, and it
+would be like taking candy from a child. Maybe you can&mdash;can influence
+him to let go&mdash;if I give you the chance." There was something coolly
+insulting in his voice that told Violet he had surmised her intentions
+and the failure of her assault on his big Jonathan.</p>
+
+<p>"Your usual impertinence! I'll get him yet, just to spite you. I'll go
+in and play that 'Purple Slipper' to win, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Again Miss Adair breaks in on enthusiasm for her play." Dennis
+Farraday's big voice boomed right at the elbows of the embattled pair.
+"Look who's here, Van!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Godfrey Vandeford looked up quickly, and as quickly rose to his
+feet. And with one glance into slate-gray eyes behind long black
+lashes&mdash;eyes filled with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> awed, worshipful gratitude to him&mdash;his heart
+rose in his breast and all but flitted out upon his sleeve.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford, the producer of your play," good Dennis
+flourished. "And Miss Violet Hawtry! In fact, the whole happy family!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+
+<p>Now, by all rules of the game, it was the prerogative of Miss Violet
+Hawtry to take charge of a situation in which the star of a play meets
+the author; but she missed her cue, and the gutter instinct within her
+sat dumb and dumfounded before the lady from Adairville.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm charmed to meet you, Miss Hawtry," Miss Adair assured her, with a
+glance of such admiration and friendliness that even Violet's
+narrow-gage soul expanded into a variety of graciousness all its own,
+and she smiled back into the eyes of the young author with a radiance
+that had the semblance of warmth.</p>
+
+<p>"And this is Miss Lindsey, whom we have chosen to support you in our
+play, Miss Hawtry," Mr. Dennis Farraday continued, with a glance of
+respectful awe at the Haw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>try, which matched that given her by the
+author a second before and obtained for Miss Lindsey a cordial enough
+recognition of the introduction only slightly to frapp&eacute; her instead of
+freezing her entirely. "We are all hungry," he added after the change of
+civilities.</p>
+
+<p>"You are all having luncheon with me," Mr. Vandeford found his voice to
+say. Ignoring Violet's glance of indignation at this skilful avoidance
+of a climax of her scene with him, he had three extra covers laid at the
+corner table devoted to the services of Miss Hawtry.</p>
+
+<p>"I warned you that we were hungry, Van," said Mr. Farraday, as he began
+to search through the menu for an article of diet safe to pour in
+quantities into a girl who had long been empty. "How'd rare steak and
+fresh mushrooms do?" he asked, and he looked away from what he was sure
+would be in the eyes of Miss Lindsey, and which was there.</p>
+
+<p>"Wonderful!" she murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Right-o, for you and Miss Lindsey, but what about nightingales' tongues
+for my author?" laughed Mr. Vandeford, with an interested note in his
+rich voice, which caused Miss Hawtry to look at him sharply and Miss
+Adair to repeat the blush to such a degree that Miss Hawtry, as Miss
+Lindsey before her, was forced to admit that it was native and not
+imported. The flush did not pass unnoticed by Mr. Vandeford, as he
+laughed again with a question as to her nourishing.</p>
+
+<p>"I want something that I don't know what the name means," calmly
+returned Miss Adair, with delighted excitement at the thought of
+adventuring into a land of strange food. "I know steak and ham and eggs
+and chicken and turkey."</p>
+
+<p>"Will you trust me?" asked Mr. Vandeford. There was an eagerness in his
+voice and smile that again made the Violet glance at him and then at Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The latter was beaming with mirth at the dilemma of
+feeding the young author who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> was so frankly scattering her hay-seeds on
+the metropolitan atmosphere. At that instant Miss Hawtry made a
+momentous decision.</p>
+
+<p>"Trust Mr. Vandeford and you can't go wrong," she advised with peaches
+and cream in her voice, and for some unknown reason Mr. Vandeford would
+have been glad to twist the creamy throat from which issued the creamy
+voice. Instead, he turned, calmly summoned the head waiter, and went
+into a conference with him in a few very discreet words, which the rest
+could not hear, though there was no sign of any intention of keeping the
+consultation from them.</p>
+
+<p>"I think it will be wonderful not to know until I taste it and maybe not
+then!" exclaimed the author, with another of her sea-gray, long-lashed
+glances of worshiping admiration at Mr. Vandeford, the eminent Broadway
+producer who was putting a great star into her play based on the
+adventures of an ancestress.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the situation was dangerous to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> both Mr. Vandeford and his
+author, but who was to blame?</p>
+
+<p>And the jolly, impromptu luncheon-party was not the kind of episode that
+could soon be forgotten by any of the guests. The unknown food for the
+author was served by the head waiter himself, and he refused to answer
+questions as to its origin or component parts, even when urged by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The expression on Miss Lindsey's face after her
+encounter with the steak and mushrooms, served with an exalted baked
+potato, was one of decided relaxation. The look of affection in her eyes
+as she glanced at the author who had dragged her into this food
+situation rivaled the suddenly rooted admiration which beamed in the
+eyes of Mr. Dennis Farraday and which put Miss Hawtry alertly on watch,
+so much so that Mr. Godfrey Vandeford was privileged to lean back in his
+chair behind a mist of cigarette-smoke and let his eyes gleam where they
+listed.</p>
+
+<p>"Now tell us just how you happened to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> think of all the wonderful things
+in your play, Miss Adair, specially that dinner situation," Mr. Dennis
+Farraday urged. He was lighting Miss Hawtry's cigarette, to the intense,
+though concealed, interest and astonishment of Miss Adair of Adairville,
+Kentucky. He thus asked sincerely and interestedly the usual question
+that the unsophisticated fires at an author at the first opportunity and
+which the author, no matter how sophisticated, really enjoys answering.</p>
+
+<p>And thereupon followed the story of the old letters in the trunk, with
+the mortgage only so lightly and proudly alluded to that the hearts of
+the listeners were decidedly touched, told by the author with the
+delighted enthusiasm that their sympathy warranted.</p>
+
+<p>"And so you see, since it couldn't be oil-wells or gold mines it had to
+be the play," she ended, quoting herself in her conversation with the
+faithful Roger, who was at that moment following his plow with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> mind
+on the straight furrows and his heart in New York.</p>
+
+<p>"You are a precious darling, and your play <i>must</i> succeed!" said Miss
+Lindsey impulsively at the end of the recital, and then she quickly
+glanced at Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to see if he resented her taking this
+affectionate liberty with his distinguished author. She found that
+eminent producer not at home to her glance; he was lost in contemplation
+of tears that hung on the long black lashes that veiled Miss Adair's
+gray eyes and a little quiver that manifested itself on her red lips.
+Then she shook off the tears by lifting those long lashes so that she
+could look straight into his eyes with a smile of absolute confidence in
+his intention and ability to remove from her life forever all of her
+distress, which was alone poverty in the concrete, by being the
+successful producer of her wonderful play. Men of Godfrey Vandeford's
+type admit many strange fires and their votaries into the outer temple
+of their hearts, but they keep the inner<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> shrine tightly surrounded by
+asbestos curtains. However, there is always one, and one only, closely
+guarded entrance through which the ultimate woman must slip in an
+unguarded moment. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would never have thought of
+being on any particular guard against the author of a play in purple
+ribbons entitled "The Renunciation of Rosalind," but he knew almost
+instantly that something dire had happened to him as he sat and writhed
+at the thought of his plans for the extinction of that piece of dramatic
+art, which he had not even read. The whole sophisticated world has
+decided that there is no such thing as love at first sight, except the
+biological scientists and they know and can prove that such a thing does
+exist and that it is a worker of wonders. And dire pain is one of its
+reactions.</p>
+
+<p>But all agony comes to an end and so did Mr. Vandeford's. Miss Hawtry,
+who had been so busy in her own mind with her own schemes that she had
+no time to listen to Miss Adair's, picked up her gloves from be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>side her
+final coffee-cup, and pulled the fine-meshed veil down over her
+beautiful, though slightly snubbed, nose as a signal for a separation of
+the group of feasters.</p>
+
+<p>"May I motor you to your hotel, Miss Adair?" she asked very sweetly. Of
+course Patricia did not know that she had got in her invitation at the
+first signal of the feasters' disintegration, which she herself had
+given, for the purpose of forestalling a similar invitation from Mr.
+Farraday, whose Surreness she knew must be moored somewhere near. "Where
+are you stopping?" she asked with very little interest, and received an
+answer that almost upset her equanimity.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm staying at the Young Women's Christian Association," calmly
+announced the author of "The Purple Slipper," with no sense of
+embarrassment in either voice or manner. "Thank you for offering to take
+me there, but Mr. Farraday is going to take Miss Lindsey and me to buy a
+hat at a place which Miss Lindsey knows of. She is going<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> to buy one,
+too, now that she is going to play in our play."</p>
+
+<p>"The Y. W. C. A.! Great guns!" muttered Mr. Vandeford under his breath,
+while the Violet leaned back in her chair and fanned herself.</p>
+
+<p>Then very suddenly Mr. Vandeford sat up and looked at Miss Mildred
+Lindsey keenly for half a second.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll have to go back to the office to get that check for Miss Lindsey
+before we go hat-hunting," announced good Dennis, with a calmness that
+made Mr. Vandeford suspect that he had met the fact of the eminent
+author's abiding-place before and had got used to it. "You and Miss
+Hawtry going over to the office, Van, or will you come with us, if she
+has other folderols to follow in a different direction?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am to see Adelaide about my costumes for 'The Purple Slipper' at
+two-twenty, so must forego the pleasure of&mdash;of hat-hunting this
+afternoon," Violet murmured faintly. "But I know Mr. Vandeford will
+adore go<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>ing with you." Miss Hawtry felt that safety lay in numbers, and
+she preferred to leave the unsophistication of Miss Adair with both Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford and Mr. Dennis Farraday than with either of them
+alone.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could get out after the hat, but you people must remember that
+I am putting on 'The Purple Slipper,' and I have to be about Miss
+Adair's business while old Denny buzzes about hat roses, free and equal
+with her," answered Mr. Vandeford. His envy, apparent in his voice, of
+the care-free state of Mr. Farraday was very real, though none of the
+others could guess its meaning. "I'll see all of you later. By!" and
+with a sign to the head waiter, which tied tight Mr. Farraday's
+purse-strings, Mr. Vandeford left them while the going was good. So
+determined was his exit that Miss Hawtry could not keep him back for the
+finish of the fight.</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Vandeford was in a mortal hurry. He had much to do and undo. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+arrived at his office, three squares away, slightly out of breath.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you see her, Pops?" he demanded of Mr. Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"I did, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and here is a carbon of the letter I sent
+her, not with any encouragement to come to New York at all," and in
+self-defense he handed out to Mr. Vandeford a copy of the letter Roger
+had delivered to Patricia among her roses and young onions and
+string-beans.</p>
+
+<p>"Take it away," commanded Mr. Vandeford, seating himself at his desk and
+wildly shunting papers and letters about.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford, sir, I am sorry for that young lady and I ask you to
+have a heart," Mr. Meyers ventured to say to his chief with a boldness
+which he himself could not understand, but with which Mr. Vandeford was
+strangely patient. He ended with, "It will be a nobleness for you to not
+produce a cold show for her, but pay a small damage sum for such a
+beautiful lady and call it all off."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My God, Pops, I'd give half the 'Rosie Posie' to be able to do it! But
+Denny and Violet and that girl they engaged for support have already
+filled her full of success dope about the play, and if I call it off
+arbitrarily, where shall I stand with her?" Ignorance of the
+completeness of his own capitulation to the faith and tears in the
+sea-gray eyes, and the genuine, grown-on-the-spot blush from Adairville,
+Kentucky, showed in the consternation with which he asked the question
+of his henchman.</p>
+
+<p>"'Stand with her'!" repeated Mr. Meyers, with a consternation that
+matched his chief's, but was of different origin. "You had no such fear
+when you called off from rehearsals in the second week the comedy of Mr.
+Hinkle, and a fourth of the damages paid to him will to her be&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Get to work under your hat, Pops, get to work! The 'Purple Slipper' has
+got to go on Broadway and go big. I followed that purple hunch for pure
+cussedness against Violet, and now watch it lead me by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> the nose.
+<a name="corr13" id="corr13"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn13" title="changed from 'Fou'">You</a>
+get Gerald Height on the wire as soon as you can, while I talk to
+Rooney."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is not a Hawtry play, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Get busy, get busy, Pops! Put a copy of that manuscript on my desk
+where I can lay hands on it the minute I get a chance. Get everything
+going for a week later than I first called the show and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. Dennis Farraday, as he burst into the outer
+office, ushering as a wedge before him Miss Patricia Adair and Miss
+Mildred Lindsey. "Got that hat-check, Pops? Money, I mean, for Miss
+Lindsey, not a pasteboard for your own lid from some hotel."</p>
+
+<p>For a minute Mr. Vandeford lost himself in the depths of the worshiping,
+gray eyes that seemed to have been lifted to his for all eternity in
+that terrible faith and gratitude. Then he went into action as captain
+of the ship which was to come into the port of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> Adairville, Kentucky,
+with all sails set, loaded or bearing his dead body.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Miss Adair extract money from Pops with a can-opener while I
+discuss a few details with Miss Lindsey, in the office," he commanded
+coolly, ushered Miss Lindsey into the sanctum and softly closed the
+door.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford," Miss Lindsey began rapidly, "I knew it wasn't fair to
+make any definite arrangements with Mr. Farraday, and of course I will
+take whatever salary you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you live, Miss Lindsey?" Mr. Vandeford interrupted to ask with
+a totally unwarranted interest on the part of a manager in the affairs
+of an actor he has engaged. Miss Lindsey, for the second time that day,
+underpainted her own cheeks and laughed as she answered:</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me, but I also live at the
+Y. W. C. A., though I give Mrs. Parkham's as my address for letters and
+telephone calls. It's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> cheap and&mdash;and I have done dining-room work there
+for a month, waiting&mdash;waiting for&mdash;for a part in a play."</p>
+
+<p>"Great guns, how that hunch works!" exclaimed the well-known producer,
+as he sank into his chair from positive weakness. "You take in this
+situation, don't you?" he demanded with a quick recovery.</p>
+
+<p>"I think I do," answered Miss Lindsey. Then she lifted her big black
+eyes, in which shone the psychic hunger, though that of the body had
+been appeased. "I've got to make good, Mr. Vandeford, and I'll do
+anything you want me to. I've got every right&mdash;to live at the Y. W. C.
+A., and a right to hand food to&mdash;to that child in there. You can trust
+me."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I can," Mr. Vandeford answered, after looking at her keenly
+for a few seconds with the glance with which he had picked his winners
+or failures in the human comedy for many experienced years. "Stop your
+dining-room work at the nunnery and see that she has a good time, just
+you and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> she together. I'll send you matin&eacute;e tickets to shows I want her
+to see, and Mr. Farraday and I'll look after the other amusement. I want
+her to meet only the people I introduce her to, and the Y. W. C. A. is
+the best place to live in New York&mdash;for her. Understand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Find out how much money she has."</p>
+
+<p>"I know now; she told me. She's got a ticket home, good until October
+first, and a hundred dollars to last until&mdash;until the royalties come in
+from the play. Those royalties have got to come in, too, or her
+grandfather&mdash;" Miss Lindsey's voice was positively belligerent as she
+began to put the situation up to Mr. Vandeford, whose heart, as that of
+a theatrical manager, she felt, must be hard by tradition.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know all about that. You get what money you want from Mr. Meyers
+out there, and fool her about what things cost as much as you can&mdash;until
+the royalties come in. Let me know when things don't run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> smoothly for
+the two of you. Of course, this is worth money to you and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want money for&mdash;for&mdash;looking after her."</p>
+
+<p>"How much did Mr. Farraday offer you for your part?"</p>
+
+<p>"He doubled it when he saw that I was&mdash;was hungry, but I know a hundred
+and twenty-five is right and that's all I expect."</p>
+
+<p>"The one-fifty stands. If all goes well I'll see you get your chance on
+Broadway this winter. We understand each other now; don't we?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"Then get the hat quest going. I'm busy."</p>
+
+<p>"Five dollars is her outside limit."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you juggle?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll try, but she's&mdash;well, you know what a girl like that is."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to it!" With which command Mr. Vandeford led the way into the outer
+office. A brief aside put the situation he had just adjusted into the
+willing ear of his
+<a name="corr14" id="corr14"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn14" title="changed from 'coproducer'">co-producer</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>, who beamed with satisfaction at the
+idea of the joint nesting of these first two theatrical experiences he
+had captured at the outset of his quest for adventure in the white
+lights. He immediately began counting Miss Lindsey's advance into her
+hand, thus giving Mr. Vandeford a word alone with his eminent author,
+beside Mr. Adolph Meyers's big window.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Lindsey tells me that she also lives at the Y. W. C. A.," he said
+with a curious paternal glow in his solar plexus that he had never
+experienced before.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm so glad! I know that is foolish of me, but I am a little
+frightened. I don't know anybody in New York except you and her
+and&mdash;I've never been in a big city before, and only in Louisville a few
+times with my aunt. I'll enjoy it if she will take me places and bring
+me back and forth to rehearsals," and the gray eyes beamed with relief
+and anticipation of being led forth from the Y. W. C. A. into the gay
+world by a competent guide. "Can we go to some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> of the <i>th&egrave; dansants</i> in
+the afternoon, and maybe to the Metropolitan and the Aquarium?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, all those places and more," assented Mr. Vandeford, with a
+suppressed smile at the diversity of amusements his charge had planned
+in her sallies from the Y. W. C. A. "You see, it is both the duty and
+the pleasure of a producer of a play to see that his author has a good
+time while in the city." It was a surprise to Mr. Vandeford to find
+himself thus stating the case inversely.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I mean to work hard to help with 'The Purple Slipper,' so I'll
+be too tired to bother you much to take me places. And I know how hard
+you work, so don't have me on your mind, will you, please, sir?" The
+lifted curl of the black lashes and the reverential note in the soft,
+slurring, Blue-grass voice almost upset the staid deference with which
+Mr. Vandeford was conversing with the author of his new Hawtry play.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, play producing isn't so hard on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> producer and the author, so
+we'll have lots of time to frolic," he hastened to assure her, though an
+uneasy little pang shot into his heart as he thought of just what befell
+the average author at the rehearsals of his or her play, and he took an
+additional vow of protection. "Shall I come to take you to dinner and to
+a show to-night?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'd love it," she answered, and again the color came up under the
+gray eyes. "It would be wonderful to have you show me Broadway the first
+time. I could never forget that."</p>
+
+<p>Then a thought delivered a blow that laid the producer of "The Purple
+Slipper" low. The afternoon was half gone, and there were dozens of
+wires that he must manipulate since he had had a change of&mdash;heart,
+concerning "The Purple Slipper," and dinner-time and evening were the
+only hours that some of the most important could be found.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I can't ask you to do that," he exclaimed, and for almost the
+first time since<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> the day of his graduation he felt color rise up under
+his own tanned cheeks. "I have to see the stage director and a lot more
+people about some things connected with your play. Still, I can't bear
+to have anybody else get that first night on Broadway away from me. I
+think it is due me." Being herself entirely sincere, Patricia recognized
+the utter sincerity of the distress in the voice of her producer where
+any other woman would have been doubtful of the ready excuse coming
+immediately after the invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Then I'll just go to bed early and rest up from the trip, so that I can
+go with you whenever you get the time to take me. You are working for us
+both about the play, and if you had rather I waited for you, that is
+only fair," Miss Adair hastened to assure him with a sincerity equal to
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>"You are one good sport," was the reply that he made her straight from
+the shoulder, for the thought of a perfectly beautiful girl going to bed
+in the Y. W. C. A. and cover<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>ing up her head and ears from the bright
+lights of her first night in old Manhattan just to give a strange and
+reverenced man the pleasure of introducing her to the old city made a
+profound impression upon him. "To-morrow night we'll wake up things on
+Broadway. I'll telephone you in the morning to let you know how the play
+is going and to see if there is anything I can do for you. Now you must
+all go and let me get busy."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, this is just about the hour that hats begin to bite well,"
+assented Mr. Farraday, as he removed the girls down to his car with no
+thought or question as to whether his services would be needed in the
+enterprise in which he had embarked with Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Now for it, Pops!" said Mr. Vandeford as the door closed behind his
+co-workers in the production of "The Purple Slipper," whose work at that
+moment was to play at a distance from his labor. "I'm going to read that
+play, and nothing short of some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>thing that will injure its prospects if
+neglected by me must disturb me. When I'm done I'll make plans with you.
+It will take me several hours, and you stand by every second of the
+time. Get me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, and he shut his
+door into the outer office just as Mr. Vandeford closed his own with a
+bang.</p>
+
+<p>Then for three hours or more, while the sun sank behind the Palisades
+and the white lights flashed up from Broadway beneath his window like
+bits of futile challenges to the dying light of day, Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford went through the supreme agony of a long life on Broadway, and
+was paid in full for every double-cross he had administered to a
+confr&egrave;re. He read "The Purple Slipper" and groaned aloud from page to
+page. He began its perusal sitting erect in his chair, and he ended it
+hunched over its pages spread on his desk with his head in his hands,
+his fingers desperately clutching his shock of gray-sprinkled hair. Then
+in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> complete collapse he flung himself back in his chair, elevated his
+feet to the edge of the desk, and began literally to devour the smoke of
+a small black cigar. For half an hour he sat motionless, as was his
+habit when fighting all preliminary battles, and his eyes seemed to be
+seeing the big old monster city open its thousand gleaming eyes and
+change its roar of the day to an incessant purr of a night-stalking
+beast, but in reality he was seeing and hearing a month into the future,
+and the spectacle thus pre-visioned was the first night of "The Purple
+Slipper" on Broadway. Then very suddenly he came back into his conscious
+self and went into action. He rang the buzzer for Mr. Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Pops, get Grant Howard on the wire and ask him to come around here as
+quick as he can make it. If he talks straight wait an hour for him, if
+he's thick-tongued go after him yourself. Get him! Now put me on the
+wire with Rooney if you can find him, and make appointments with
+<a name="corr15" id="corr15"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn15" title="changed from 'Lindenberger'">Lindenberg</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+for scenery at eleven in the morning. Ask Corbett to send an
+artist to talk costumes for a period play at eleven-thirty, and have
+Gerald Height here at twelve sharp. Don't forget to engage that
+good-looking youngster&mdash;Leigh, I think is the name&mdash;even if you have to
+give him a hundred advance. That's all for the present. Get Rooney for
+me." Mr. Vandeford turned to his desk and began making rapid notes on a
+pad with a huge, black, press pencil. For five minutes he spread his
+thoughts upon the paper in great smudges; then his telephone rang, and
+he took up the receiver:</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, this is Mr. Vandeford speaking. Hello, Billy!"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"That new Hawtry play is beginning to promise something. I'm delaying it
+a week, and I want you to come into it with your sleeves rolled up. We
+may make a sure-fire hit of it."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, I'll keep right on getting 'The Rosie Posie Girl' in shape, and
+shunt Hawtry into it as soon as she cinches the public in this play&mdash;or
+fails."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"That was just what I was going to hand you&mdash;you get four hundred a week
+for this show, but you'll have to go in and earn it. It's a departure,
+and you may not like it. You'll have to hammer it a lot, but I'm not
+signing a single 'Rosie Posie' contract until I see this in shape."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it. A stage manager has to take my stuff all hot even if he
+thinks some of it is cold. Get me?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"That's good. I'll give you the completed manuscript Saturday so you can
+pound and set it for Monday next."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"That's good. By!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>With which short, but sure, wire-pulling Mr. Vandeford opened his
+campaign to double-cross his own original plans. He had hardly stopped
+fixing Mr. William Rooney when Pops looked in upon him and announced Mr.
+Grant Howard, the eminent playwright.</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Grant," was Mr. Vandeford's short and unenthusiastic greeting to
+the small, black-haired person with weak, pink-rimmed, blue eyes, who
+sauntered into the sanctum and dropped sadly into a chair with his back
+to the light. A cigarette hung from the left corner of his upper lip,
+and his hands trembled. "Been hitting 'em up?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered the playwright, laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"Broke?"</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty bad."</p>
+
+<p>"Want to doctor a play for Hawtry for me by Friday next for a thousand
+dollars cash?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cash now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cash Friday."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Would have to lock myself up in my apartment to do it; but Mazie's been
+crying for gold-uns for a week."</p>
+
+<p>"Send Mazie to me, and I'll fix that, and hand you the thousand on
+Friday. Here, take this manuscript over in my other office and be ready
+to talk it over with me by ten o'clock. I'll see Mazie in the meantime."
+Mr. Vandeford placed the precious "Purple Slipper" in the hands of a man
+who at that very moment had two successful plays running on Broadway,
+his interest in both of which he had sold out for a mess of pottage to
+be consumed in the company of Miss Mazie Villines of the "Big Show."</p>
+
+<p>"Dolph had better order me up a little cold wine to start on," said Mr.
+Howard, as he rose languidly to incarcerate himself at the bidding of
+Mr. Vandeford. The same scene had been enacted between the two bright
+lights of American drama several times before with very good results.
+Mr. Howard's brain was of that peculiar caliber which does not originate
+an idea, but which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> inserts a solid bone construction as well as keen
+little sparklets into the fabric of another's labor, and makes the whole
+translucent where before it may have been opaque. On Broadway he was
+called a play doctor, and Mr. Vandeford was not the first manager who
+had shut him up with quarts of refreshment to tinker on the play of many
+a literary, dramatic, bright light.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolph will give you scotch and soda to your limit, no further,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, without graciousness. "I'll be here waiting for
+your talk-over at ten-thirty o'clock."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. Have Mazie come for me after her show?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>With which the eminent playwright betook himself to a small private
+office which opened into the lair of Mr. Adolph Meyers. After he had
+entered that retreat Mr. Meyers softly rose from his typing machine and
+as softly locked him in. Then he proceeded to hunt for Miss Mazie
+Villines until<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> he got her into conversational connection with Mr.
+Vandeford. They conversed in these words with great cordiality:</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Want to earn a nice little two hundred for keeping Grant Howard working
+at doctoring a play by next Friday for me?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"I'm giving him a thousand if it's delivered Friday."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Two hundred to you."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Not three!"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"There's Claire Furniss. Grant had her at supper last night at Rector's.
+She's a beauty, you know."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Two fifty."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!"</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"Good! Come get him here at my office at eleven-fifteen. Get a taxi by
+the hour at your stage-door&mdash;on me&mdash;and come by for him."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Good girl! By!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>"What a life!" Mr. Vandeford muttered to himself, then rang his buzzer
+for Mr. Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Pops, it's eight o'clock. Go get us a couple of slabs of pie at the
+automat, and then I'll go over to see Breit at the booking office."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Meyers acquiesced, and departed in search
+of provender for the lion and himself. Left to himself, Mr. Vandeford
+fell into another trance, from which he was dragged by another tinkle of
+his telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"There'll be a wireless to my grave," he muttered as he took down the
+receiver and snapped into it:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"This is Mr. Vandeford talking."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Miss Adair. Anything the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Speak a little closer into the phone. Miss Hawtry has asked you to
+supper to-night? Mr. Farraday? And myself?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Did she say I was to come for you?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know, I feel like a brute, but I'm going to tell you to go to
+bed as per promise. I've got two big guns from Broadway putting licks on
+the production of 'The Purple Slipper' until the small hours to-night,
+right here in the office. I'll tell Miss Hawtry about it, and you
+can&mdash;go to bed."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, she'll understand. It's her play too, you see."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"No, you can't help me to-night, thank you just the same. How's Miss
+Lindsey? Would you like me to send my car to take you girls for a little
+spin in the park to cool off before you go to bed?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Her hair's wet? And so is yours? I didn't know it was raining."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, a mutual shampoo? Bless you both!"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"No, you don't interrupt me when you call me. You are to call me any
+time you are willing to do it, if it is every five minutes."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"No, I mean it."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Very well then&mdash;good-night and good dreams."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"Can you beat it?" Mr. Vandeford smiled to himself as he hung up the
+receiver. "Those two peachy girls washing each other's hair in the Y. W.
+C. A., within ten blocks of the 'Follies' is to laugh&mdash;or cry. Good
+little Lindsey! I wager she could have got 'em both forty-seven-eleven
+dates." Then a thought delivered a blow just above his belt in the
+region of his heart. "So it's Violet's game to use her as a decoy-duck
+for Denny?" he questioned himself, then gave his own answer in a soft
+voice under his breath. "Damn her!"</p>
+
+<p>Furthermore he did not communicate with Miss Hawtry to give her Miss
+Adair's answer to her invitation. He answered it in person, but only
+after much had happened in the three hours intervening.</p>
+
+<p>The hours from eight to nearly ten Mr. Vandeford spent in slowly
+munching the refreshment retrieved from the automat by Mr. Adolph Meyers
+and thinking out loud to that dignitary who took down his thoughts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> on
+paper in cabalistic signs of shorthand. They were all notes of what
+could and must be done in the next few days in the fight for the good
+fate of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to see that fellow Reid about that new lighting he provided for
+the new Sauls show in May. I liked it in some ways and&mdash;" Mr. Vandeford
+was saying when a banging on the door of the private office in which was
+incarcerated the eminent playwright interrupted him.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you give him the right amount of booze, Pops?" Mr. Vandeford asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Entirely right," answered Mr. Meyers, with his pencil still poised over
+his pad. The knocking continued.</p>
+
+<p>"See what he wants, Pops, and give him a little more if you have to,"
+decided Mr. Vandeford, as he lit a new cigar and turned to the whirlpool
+of his desk while he waited for Mr. Meyers's return.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, do you expect me to cast a Sunday School charade into a play in
+six days, Vandeford?" was the storm of words hurled at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> him as the
+released and infuriated doctor of plays hurled himself and his sheaf of
+manuscript into the door ahead of Mr. Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Is that what you think of it?" calmly questioned Mr. Vandeford, as he
+swung around in his chair. "Sit down and tell me what you intend to do
+for it."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to rewrite the whole blamed mess for fifteen hundred dollars,
+that's what I'm going to do," announced Mr. Howard with both
+belligerence and excitement in his voice and in the flash of his sick
+little eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it as good&mdash;or as bad&mdash;as all that&mdash;money?" questioned Mr.
+Vandeford. "You'll have to show me," he added calmly, though in the
+vitals of his heart he was relieved that Howard still spoke of "The
+Purple Slipper" as a carcass on which to operate.</p>
+
+<p>"It's got a perfectly ripping, basic, sex-comedy idea that climaxes the
+third act; the rest is piffle."</p>
+
+<p>"I thought some of the character drawing, and one or two of the
+sentimental bits were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>&mdash;actable," Mr. Vandeford ventured, determined to
+save as much of the hair and hide of Miss Adair's child as possible,
+enough at least to help her to recognize and claim it later.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we can leave enough bits to anchor the author's name, if that is
+what you mean," the playwright admitted impatiently. "How about fifteen
+hundred? I won't do it for less."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest ease with which he had
+ever dispensed five hundred dollars in all his life. "Now shoot me your
+layout of the whole thing before Mazie gets here to take you and lock
+you up."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to take that dinner scene where the wife holds her husband's
+enemies and her lover at bay to see if he gets back home on a
+sporting-chance bet with lover, and write Hawtry both back and front of
+it; write her in as the virago she is and give her a chance to act
+herself for once."</p>
+
+<p>"Good idea," admitted Mr. Vandeford.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> "But you'll have a hard time
+writing a gutter girl into a grand dame, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Women are all alike, and the worst viragos are the grand dames. It
+takes a gutter girl to play one let loose, as they do only on rare
+occasions. I've got 'em in my own family. That's the reason I'm a black
+sheep turned out. Got a sister that's worse than me, only respectable
+and fashionable. See?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I see," again admitted Mr. Vandeford. "You'll keep all the
+atmosphere and minor stabs in, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure. They are pretty good staggers, some of the minor stuff. Lots of
+it is good talk&mdash;only wandering. That woman may write something some day
+if she breaks loose and goes to the devil for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"She won't," said Mr. Vandeford, positively.</p>
+
+<p>"Never can tell," answered Mr. Howard, with indifference. "What did
+Mazie say?"</p>
+
+<p>"She's due here for you now," answered Mr. Vandeford, looking at his
+watch.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Great girl, Mazie. Cooks me dandy rice and runny eggs, and sits on the
+neck of every bottle in New York while I dig. Couldn't do without her.
+Say, tell her you are just giving me five hundred, will you?"</p>
+
+<p>"She knows it's a thousand," answered Mr. Vandeford, truthfully. "But
+I'll keep the extra five hundred you are extracting dark for you."</p>
+
+<p>"That's good, and I'll tell her that I haven't got any&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her that you haven't got any money, as usual," were the words
+which Mr. Howard's fair lion-tamer used to finish his sentence of appeal
+to Mr. Vandeford for his co-operation in fraud. She had entered past Mr.
+Meyers with his full approval, for he felt a great relief at the sight
+of her and her guardianship.</p>
+
+<p>"How's Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he rose and, with all the
+ceremony he would have used for a grand duchess&mdash;or Miss Patricia
+Adair&mdash;offered a chair to the pert little person with her funny,
+good-hu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>mored, rather pretty face and her very smart clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"Kicking along, Mr. Vandeford, thank you," was the answer. "Gee, but I
+did kick the limit to-night, that's sure. I put some shady shines over
+what Grant wrote into a let-down in my part for me last night in great
+shape. They et it up, darling." Her naughty face beamed on Howard.
+"Hawtry was in a box, left. Had a gink in soup to fish with her that
+looked like real money. Have you rented her out?"</p>
+
+<p>"You folks get along and stop that taxi meter you've got running on me,"
+Mr. Vandeford said, answering the sally with a laugh; but it surprised
+him that there was a cold space in his vitals at the insult that the
+little trollop handed him with such comradery, guiltless of any
+knowledge that it was an insult.</p>
+
+<p>"What was that about touching pitch?" he asked himself as he walked
+rapidly up four blocks to the theater where Mazie had told him he would
+find the Violet with her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> prey. He was just in time to meet them in the
+lobby. Denny was in the gorgeousness of his "soup to fish," Mazie's and
+her world's term for evening attire, and the Violet in every way matched
+his good looks.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, where is Mademoiselle Innocence?" asked Hawtry, with a little
+frown, as she perceived that Mr. Vandeford was alone and not in regalia.</p>
+
+<p>"Asleep at the Y. W. C. A.," he answered shortly.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure?" asked the Violet, with a little laugh for which he could have
+killed her.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, she promised Miss Hawtry to go to supper with us and see a
+midnight show," Mr. Farraday exclaimed, and there was disappointment in
+his voice as he looked at Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"I couldn't get away from the office until just this minute, and I
+didn't think I could get away this soon. Miss Adair sent her apologies
+to you both, and I came over to bring them."</p>
+
+<p>"Evidently we are not to be trusted with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> the author, Mr. Farraday,"
+laughed Violet, with what good Dennis took as good nature and what Mr.
+Vandeford knew to be rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, bless the child and her beauty sleep, but don't let that kill our
+evening joy. Come along, Van, and we'll go some place sufficiently
+disreputable to admit a crumpled person like yourself if you wash your
+hands. We can have a good powwow over the play. I want to know what you
+have been doing while I was off the job chasing a hat for the author."
+And the big, stupid Jonathan linked his arm in that of his anxious and
+hovering David and drew him along towards the Surrenese, which stood
+across the street, at the same time guiding the steps of the Violet's
+satin slippers in that direction.</p>
+
+<p>While the three walked across the narrow street Mr. Vandeford made some
+rapid calculations and a decision in his mind. He saw plainly that he
+could not undertake to guard Mr. Dennis Farraday from the Violet and at
+the same time fend Miss Patricia Adair from her wiles. He'd have to
+choose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> between them, and in the twinkling of an eye he chose Patricia.
+It is said that there is a love between men "that passes the love of
+women," but nobody has ever witnessed it.</p>
+
+<p>"You people go on to your show&mdash;I'm all in," he capitulated as they
+stood beside Mr. Farraday's car; and the heart of the Violet rejoiced
+within her.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure Miss Adair is getting caught up on sleep so she can go with
+you to-morrow night. She's a perfect dear, and we'll put her play
+across," Hawtry cooed to him in her rich voice, and he knew that she
+felt she had struck his price and bought him off.</p>
+
+<p>"If Denny falls for her he'll fall far; but I can't help it. A girl's a
+girl, specially from the country," Mr. Vandeford said to himself, as he
+stood and watched them drive away into the white-lighted ca&ntilde;on of
+Broadway. Then he went home and to bed.</p>
+
+<p>A man may put out his night light, stretch himself between his sheets
+with the perfection of fatigue and still not sleep. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> are various
+combinations of reasons that prevent his slumber. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+was still awake when Mr. Dennis Farraday let himself into his apartment
+with a key that had been presented to him five years before when Mr.
+Vandeford had installed his Lares and Penates in the tall building on
+Seventy-third Street, some of these Lares and Penates being Mr.
+Farraday's extra linen and clothes.</p>
+
+<p>"That you, Denny?" Mr. Vandeford asked as he switched on his light and
+took a hurried glance at a clock on his mantel which registered the hour
+of 2 <span class="smcap">a. m.</span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Mr. Farraday, as he came to the door of Mr. Vandeford's
+sleeping apartment. "A thought suddenly struck me, and I stopped in to
+explode it at you and sleep here."</p>
+
+<p>"Fire away!"</p>
+
+<p>"My mater is coming to town the first of the week to have her glasses
+changed, and
+<a name="corr16" id="corr16"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn16" title="changed from I'd">I'm</a>
+going to telephone out to her to-morrow and ask her to
+write Miss Adair to have din<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>ner with us informally at the town house
+while she is here. You know mater's mother was from old Kentucky, and
+she'll adore the child. Think that's good thinking?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a glow under his ribs about which
+he said nothing. Men are vastly inarticulate, but they have various
+means of communication, and Mr. Vandeford now felt that in his care of
+his author Mr. Dennis Farraday would understand.</p>
+
+<p>"You know I am on new ground, old chap, but&mdash;but how about asking Miss
+Lindsey, too?" Mr. Farraday questioned, with great diffidence.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine!" agreed Mr. Vandeford, with accelerated glow under his ribs that
+Miss Lindsey had been proposed when Miss Hawtry might have been invited.
+"Get to bed, can't you, you Indian, you? Night!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night!" answered Mr. Farraday, as he departed to his own room.</p>
+
+<p>And still Mr. Vandeford did not sleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Flat upon his back he lay and faced, analyzed, and card-indexed his
+situation and himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Five years of myself given to that gutter girl and I never even cared;
+let her annex me for purposes of parade and publicity, and thought it
+funny sport. Wasted? Something to be deducted for pleasure in artistic
+success of "Dear Geraldine," but what will it cost me if I have to stand
+by and see her make old Denny hate himself as I do myself, or worse?
+She'll not stop short with him, and how do I know what he'll do? The
+money don't matter, but the&mdash;cleanliness does. If I go in to save him,
+she gave me notice to-night that she would go for that gray-eyed girl.
+What can she do to her? First, kill her play, no matter what I do to
+build up a success for the kiddie to cancel that mortgage. Second: do
+something, say something that will kill that look in those gray eyes
+when they lift to me. Never! Take Denny, Violet, and the Lord help him;
+I can't. You've bought me. Washing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> her hair in the Y. W. C. A.! God
+bless that institution and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>At last Mr. Godfrey Vandeford slept.</p>
+
+<p>After his ten o'clock awakening Mr. Vandeford displayed a marked
+eccentricity in his demeanor. That morning was unlike any morning he had
+ever experienced, and his conduct surprised himself. A daybreak shower
+had fallen on the hot and baked city, and it was as fresh as a suburb.
+Arrayed in the coolest of white silk, linen, and suede, Mr. Vandeford
+had his chauffeur drive him not to the whirling office but to the most
+sophisticated Fifth Avenue florist, where he purchased the most
+unsophisticated bunch of flowers at the highest price to be obtained in
+New York.</p>
+
+<p>"The Young Women's Christian Association," he commanded the obsequious
+young Valentine who drove the big Chambers. Mr. Vandeford was never
+sufficiently unoccupied of mind to pilot a car in and out of New York
+traffic. For half a second the young Frenchman hesitated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I don't know where it is&mdash;Find out," commanded Mr. Vandeford, and again
+he had the foreign experience of feeling the blood burn the under side
+of the tan on his cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>Valentine consulted the tall man in uniform at the door of the flower
+shop, and this menial consulted some one within, who must have consulted
+a directory, judging from the time it took to obtain the correct
+address. With his eyes straight in front of him, as a chauffeur's eyes
+should always be, he then drove rapidly down the avenue.</p>
+
+<p>And on that beautiful morning Mr. Vandeford's luck was with him.
+Valentine whirled expertly up to the curb in front of the large,
+hospitable building which had emblazoned over its door the impressive Y.
+W. C. A. letters, letters that send a beacon all over the known world as
+they did to Mr. Vandeford in little and unimportant New York. Mr.
+Vandeford got out of the car with hurried grace in his long limbs and,
+with actual trepidation, went in through the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> door, into a world he had
+never even thought of before. He had entered many an African lion jungle
+with less fear. He glanced with awe at the natty young woman in white
+linen who presided at the desk, and wanted intensely to put his flowers
+behind him and back out of the door rather than approach and ask for the
+lady to whom he wished to donate them. In fact, he might have
+accomplished such a retreat if again luck had not come his way.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Vandeford, how glad I am that you got here before we went out
+to the museum," exclaimed a fluty, slurring young voice just behind him,
+and he found that the gray eyes with the black lashes were just as
+unusual as he had decided they could not possibly be in the interval
+that had elapsed since he had looked into them. "Oh, how lovely!"</p>
+
+<p>The last exclamation was made over the edge of the bouquet, which he had
+tendered Miss Adair as silently as a school-boy hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> out his first
+bunch of buttercups to the lady for whom he has picked them.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you come for me to go to help work on the play?" was the energetic
+question that brought him out of his trance.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not right now," he answered haltingly, and when he realized how
+many times he would have to put her off with words to that same effect,
+his trance became a panic.</p>
+
+<p>"When are you going to need me?" Miss Adair asked him with a direct and
+business-like look right to his eyes. "I am ready for work now."</p>
+
+<p>"Now what'll I do?" he demanded of himself.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+
+<p>"I thought of a lot of new things for my characters to say, while I was
+coming up from Kentucky on the train, and I want to put them in." Miss
+Adair further tortured Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"This morning I am going to talk to the electrician and the costumer and
+the scene painter." Mr. Vandeford answered by telling her the truth,
+because, with her very beautiful and candid eyes beaming into his,
+showing both interest and consideration, he had not the power to make up
+any kind of lie to put her off the trail of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"I am so glad that I got up early and am ready to go with you! I can
+tell them about what my great-grandmother really wore when it all
+happened, and it will be such a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> help to them!" Miss Adair exclaimed
+with great business acumen shining in her eyes. Mr. Vandeford gave up
+the fight, piloted her into his car, and gave the command, "Office!" to
+the very decorous, but very much interested Valentine.</p>
+
+<p>As they were skimming back up the avenue and about to turn into
+Forty-second Street, an inspiration came to Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you keep some of those costumes of the period of the play hid
+away in an old brass-nailed leather trunk in your garret?" he asked Miss
+Adair, with desperate eagerness shining in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Miss Adair answered readily. Then she hesitated, and the genuine
+blush rivaled the one in the northeast corner of the bouquet at the
+waist of the very chic, blue-silk suit. "That is, I did have some&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Have they been destroyed?" questioned Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest
+anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not exactly," answered Miss Adair, with a distressed tremor at the
+corner of her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> curved mouth that rivaled a rose of a deeper hue in the
+southwest corner of the bouquet.</p>
+
+<p>"I see," answered Mr. Vandeford, with great relief. "You are not just
+sure where they are. That's great! You can have a talk with Mr. Corbett,
+who is to design the costumes, and then hop right back home in a day or
+two, as soon as you are rested and we've had a little bat on Broadway,
+and find them for him to use in his designs. The management will pay all
+the expenses and you can&mdash;can&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford cast around in his mind for some other business in
+connection with "The Purple Slipper" that would keep the author thereof
+busy and contented in Adairville, Kentucky, out of the clutches of
+Violet and out of the way of his stage director until it all was running
+smoothly.</p>
+
+<p>"How about your getting a lot of photographs of the house in which it
+all happened?" he went on. Vaguely he felt photography must be a slow
+process in Adairville, Kentucky.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Also, in his heart he was forced to acknowledge that his inspiration for
+getting the author out of the way of her own play while it was being
+murdered was not entirely original. Tradition had told him, whether
+truly or not, that at a certain crucial moment in the butchering and
+rehearsal of "The Great Divide" the poet-author, Moody, had been sent
+West to hunt a genuine war costume for a great Indian war-chief, his
+favorite written character, and on his return with the trophy had found
+the Indian cut entirely and forever from the play.</p>
+
+<p>"Those dresses would be the greatest help you could give us now," he
+urged with an inward chuckle at the thought of the trick on the great
+poet, which froze in his heart as he observed two tears balanced on the
+black lashes of the lovely sea-gray eyes lowered away from his.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he gasped, in desperate fear that the Moody Indian
+story had penetrated to the wilds of Adairville, Ken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>tucky. "You'd only
+be gone a few days, and everything could wait until you came back. I
+wouldn't turn a wheel without you, and&mdash;" he committed himself deeper
+and deeper at every step.</p>
+
+<p>"I've had the dresses all made over, and this is one. I've hurt my play
+just because I wanted to look pretty in New York! I'm humiliated with
+myself. As if anybody cared how I look; and the play&mdash;" The soft little
+slurs stopped and the beautiful old-blue-silk-clad shoulder trembled
+slightly against his shoulder as a little ghost of a sob came to the
+surface and was suppressed while the home-made color faded from beneath
+two tears that fell from the black lashes.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please forgive me, child! It doesn't matter at all, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You oughtn't to forgive me," the voice trembled on. "Miss Hawtry would
+have been wonderful in that dinner dress my grandmother wore, and
+I&mdash;I've had two made out of it! I can give them to her and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> tell her how
+to put them together again with&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind!" fairly snapped Mr. Vandeford. Then he
+broke the record in his own thinking processes and decided for the
+second time to tell the whole truth to this country girl with her
+mixture of hay-seeds and patrician airs. He directed Valentine to
+Central Park and made a clean breast of it. It is a pleasure to record
+that at the Moody Indian story Patricia laughed until two other tears
+ran down her cheeks, but this time they did not wring Mr. Vandeford's
+heart, for they coursed over the accustomed roses and were a great
+pleasure to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go home if you want me to," the talented author of "The Purple
+Slipper" offered, with a small snap in her eyes, mingled with the
+accustomed veneration of Mr. Vandeford, her producer. "I don't want to
+be in anybody's way. I thought I had to come and spend all my money. I
+want to see the Metropolitan and the Aquarium and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> Brooklyn Bridge and
+Trinity Church, ... and ... a Midnight Frolic, because Mamie Lou
+Whitson, at home, is expecting me to go to one even if Miss Elvira said
+I ought not to. Can I see just one Frolic before I go home?"</p>
+
+<p>"If you go home now the whole 'Purple Slipper' will go into cold storage
+until you come back," Mr. Vandeford growled at her, and the effort it
+took not to hold on to her with bodily fingers was a great strain. "I
+told you the usual situation because I felt that you were clever enough
+to make the best of it and help the play a lot. No author ever has seen
+a play produced as he wrote it, and he has to stand seeing everybody
+take a whack at it, from the producer to the man who takes the tickets
+at the front door. I've got a good playwright shut up until Friday
+rewriting 'The Purple Slipper'; then I'm going to work at it myself and
+let Miss Hawtry write in all the things she wants to say, and cut out
+all the things she doesn't. After that, I'm going to turn it over to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
+Bill Rooney, who was born in a barrel down on the wharf and educated in
+the gutter, but who is the best and highest-priced stage director in New
+York. He'll do innumerable things to it while he's 'setting it,' as he
+calls getting it ready for rehearsals. All the actors and actresses will
+be allowed at times to butcher and scalp their parts and everybody will
+stab. And if you are a plucky girl you'll sit still and see it done.
+There will come lots of times that everything you suggest, even very
+timidly, will be thrust down your throat; but if they are vital they
+will get under the hide of Bill and opening night you'll see that your
+pluck has put a lot into the whole thing and that the mutilated and
+dressed-up play is still your child. Will you trust me and sit in with
+me and help me make 'The Purple Slipper' go?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do! I will!" answered Miss Adair, with her head in the air and the
+Adairville roses flaunting themselves in her face. And as she spoke she
+offered him her slim, long-fingered, white little hand that his
+com<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>pletely engulfed as, answering a signal, Valentine turned the car
+back toward Forty-second Street. "If I've got to have thorns stuck in me
+and then cut out I'm mighty glad you'll be there."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I'll be there," he answered her softly, as he released her hand at
+least two seconds sooner than he was really obliged to, though he
+himself could not have said why he did it. He felt like a grown person
+who frightens a child with a bear tale to make it cuddle to his own
+strength in the firelight.</p>
+
+<p>Then followed a day in the offices of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical
+Producer, which, up to that time, could not have been duplicated on
+Broadway and perhaps never will be, though the results may have the
+effect of&mdash;but that was all in the future of the theatrical business at
+that time.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Meyers," said Mr. Vandeford, as he ushered the author of "The
+Purple Slipper" into the outer offices, where he found Pops soothing and
+controlling about seven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> enraged experts in different lines of dramatic
+production, "Miss Adair will have the small office from now on to work
+in when she is not in consultation with me. Please take her in and see
+that she is made at home while I run through my mail. Yes, Mr. Corbett,
+I will be ready for you in a few minutes. Sorry to detain you, all of
+you," with which apology to the body of assembled experts Mr. Vandeford
+bowed, went into his sanctum, and firmly closed the door, just as Mr.
+Adolph Meyers bowed the author into her sanctum and as firmly closed her
+door. Mr. Gerald Height, who had been sitting looking indifferently out
+of Mr. Meyers' window, looked after the disappearing author as if a
+perfumed breeze had suddenly blown across his brow, and whistled softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Say, Pops, who, by thunder is&mdash;," he was questioning Mr. Meyers with
+extreme interest, when Mr. Vandeford's buzzer sounded and Mr. Meyers was
+forced to answer it before he could attend to Mr. Height's question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Meyers found Mr. Vandeford pale, but determined.</p>
+
+<p>"Pops," he said, and Mr. Meyers could have sworn that the voice of his
+beloved chief trembled, "I'm in the devil of a fix, and you have got to
+throw me a line to pull out; in fact, you'll have to cast in a drag-net
+if you want to land me."</p>
+
+<p>"If it was a submarine I would make a rescue of you, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir," the faithful henchman assured the panic-stricken producer.</p>
+
+<p>"She's worse than any submarine ever floated, and I'm rammed&mdash;in a
+corner, Pops. To make a story that is going to be long in acting, short
+in telling, I've had to put Miss Adair on to what is usually handed out
+to the authors of plays, and then to stop her wails, offered to let her
+sit in and watch her play baby hacked up. Her office-hours here and at
+rehearsals will be from ten mornings to midnight, and what are you going
+to do about it?" Mr. Vandeford questioned Mr. Meyers with a kind of
+for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>lorn hope in his eyes, for Mr. Meyers had often seen him through the
+crooks of his trade.</p>
+
+<p>"I advise to make it straight to her, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and she will
+come out all right or otherwise go home. That young lady has the look of
+a horse on which I won seven hundred at the last Gravesend. Besides, we
+have not time for play-acting about that 'Purple Slipper.' It is a cold
+bird and we must be in a hurry about putting pep into it for a success."</p>
+
+<p>"Right-o, Pops! I'll ask her in here, and when I buzz send in Corbett.
+The poor kiddie!" With which lamentation over the fate he was about to
+mete out to Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford dismissed Mr. Meyers and opened
+the door which led from his sanctum into that which had been so recently
+assigned to the author of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>That eminent playwright was discovered in the height of fascination,
+looking down upon the uproar of Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>"I saw a taxicab run over a man and not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> kill him," she exclaimed with
+both horror and joy. "I started to call you, but it was all over in a
+second."</p>
+
+<p>"That's all right. I've seen that hundreds of times, even when they were
+killed." He reassured her about neglecting to share the excitement with
+him. "Are you ready to take up the matter of costumes with Corbett?"</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I have to tell him&mdash;about my making over&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No; just listen to me handle him, and I'll tell you when to break in.
+I'll give you a lead. Please come into my office." And with coolness of
+manner, but trepidation of heart, he led her into his office and seated
+her in a chair beside his at the far side of the desk,&mdash;the very chair
+in which had sat Mr. Dennis Farraday on the day previous, when he had
+received his initiation into the world of theatricals. Then he buzzed
+his signal to Mr. Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>Immediately Mr. Corbett entered.</p>
+
+<p>"Morning, Corbett.&mdash;Miss Adair, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> author of the play I want to talk
+to you about.&mdash;Want to take on a costume play of early Kentucky?" Mr.
+Vandeford made no pause in which to allow Mr. Corbett to acknowledge his
+introduction to the author, and Mr. Corbett seemed to bear no resentment
+for the omission. His astonishment at meeting an author when the
+costuming of a play was being discussed was profound.</p>
+
+<p>"What date?" he inquired, looking carefully away from Miss Adair.</p>
+
+<p>"What date, Miss Adair?" asked Mr. Vandeford in exactly the same crisp
+tone in which he was conducting the negotiations with Mr. Corbett.</p>
+
+<p>"1806, I think. It was just before they began to wear&mdash;" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say with a delighted smile that entirely failed to make an
+impression on Mr. Corbett.</p>
+
+<p>"Good date for costuming," the artist interrupted the author to say,
+with the easy assurance of a person fully informed. "Styles were
+distinctive. I dressed 'Lov<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>ers' Ends' for E. and K. in 1789, and the
+costumes kept the piffling play alive for two months. How many dolls and
+how many boots?"</p>
+
+<p>"How many men and how many ladies in the play, Miss Adair?" Mr.
+Vandeford questioned her with delight at getting a question to fling to
+her and also translating for her Mr. Corbett's query.</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty in all," answered Miss Adair. "There are eleven ladies with
+the&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Split even," Mr. Corbett took the words out of her mouth. "Want sole
+leather or tissue paper, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair caught by psychic
+sympathy the fact that he was asking if the play was to be costumed as
+one intended to survive. Consequently her very soul hung on the answer
+Mr. Vandeford must make to Mr. Corbett's question.</p>
+
+<p>"To play about thirty, I should say," answered Mr. Vandeford after a two
+minutes' calculating.</p>
+
+<p>"Only a month?" gasped Miss Adair, then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> colored home-made pink in the
+height of embarrassment.</p>
+
+<p>"Weeks." Mr. Vandeford answered her gasp without looking at her, but
+taking the vow gallantly, considering that he felt Mazie Villines to be
+his sole dependence for a winning manuscript version of "The Purple
+Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>During this question and answer Mr. Corbett was also calculating.</p>
+
+<p>"About seven thousand if Adelaide makes the Hawtry layout," he finally
+announced.</p>
+
+<p>"Five hundred advance for the sketches, and a week's option," Mr.
+Vandeford offered calmly.</p>
+
+<p>"A thousand advance for models of costumes made up," answered Mr.
+Corbett, just as calmly and firmly. "Have to hunt in museum for
+materials to go by. Takes experts on fabrics."</p>
+
+<p>"I can give you pieces of silk and things that are cut from the costumes
+of that period." Miss Adair had learned, and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> cut her remark into
+the conference with precision and decision.</p>
+
+<p>"Genuine?" questioned Mr. Corbett.</p>
+
+<p>"Worn by the characters about whom the play is written."</p>
+
+<p>"Then seven hundred and fifty for made-up models, Mr. Vandeford," Mr.
+Corbett offered.</p>
+
+<p>"The pieces will be large enough to make the models," Miss Adair said
+with a curt firmness that was a combination of that used by both Mr.
+Vandeford and Mr. Corbett and which both startled and delighted the
+former.</p>
+
+<p>"Six hundred for models, Corbett," he said with finality and with an
+inward chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>"Six-fifty, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Corbett answered with equal finality,
+and for the first time he stole a glance at the author.</p>
+
+<p>"Goes! When?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two weeks?"</p>
+
+<p>"Goes! Good-morning, Mr. Corbett!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Corbett's exit was immediate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad Miss Elvira made me put all the pieces of my dresses in my
+trunk to patch with in case I tore anything. They saved us four hundred
+dollars, didn't they?" Miss Adair said to Mr. Vandeford with gratified
+business acumen shining in the sea-gray eyes. "I wasn't much in the way,
+was I?"</p>
+
+<p>"You were a great help, and that was the first time I ever succeeded in
+jewing Corbett," answered Mr. Vandeford with satisfactory enthusiasm.
+Something of relief over the guarding of his author showed in his voice,
+which second note, however, he sounded too soon as the next ten minutes
+proved to him. "Now we'll discuss the sets for the production with
+Lindenberg and then it'll be time for luncheon, and we'll go&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford, sir, Mr. Height would like to be in next," Mr. Meyers
+interrupted his chief, just a second too soon, or rather just in time,
+for if Mr. Vandeford had settled Miss Adair's luncheon plans in that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+second the fate of "The Purple Slipper" might have been different.</p>
+
+<p>"Show him in, Pops, and have the rest come back at two-thirty," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Gerald Height entered.</p>
+
+<p>For five successive seasons on Broadway, with brief dazzling flights
+into the provincial towns of Chicago, Boston, Washington, and
+Philadelphia, Mr. Gerald Height had been the reigning beauty, and he
+well deserved it. He was both slender and broad, with the grace of a
+faun in young manhood, and with the deviltry of a satyr of more advanced
+age in his yellow-green eyes, which tilted under high black brows that
+were arched penciled bows across his forehead. His lips were full and
+red, but chiseled like a youth's on a Greek frieze and they were mobile
+and tender and hard by turns. His red-gold hair clung to his head in
+burnished waves, and this head was set upon his broad, strong shoulders
+as a flower is set on its parent plant, and his smile was a conquering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+triumph. He poured it all over Miss Adair as Mr. Vandeford introduced
+them, and took the chair opposite the producer and the author, with the
+light from the window fully revealing all of his charms.</p>
+
+<p>"New Hawtry play on, Height, by Miss Adair." Mr. Vandeford began the
+conversation with his usual directness, and somehow his voice was
+crisper than usual, for he seemed to get a shock from the radiance of
+the stage beauty before him that pushed him, with his white-tinged black
+hair, well forward into middle age.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolph was telling me, and I ran through a synopsis he had on the
+machine. Powder and furbelows!" As he spoke Mr. Height smiled at Miss
+Adair with appreciation of herself and got in return a smile of the same
+degree of appreciation of himself, both smiles not at all lost on the
+psychologically aging Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"That clause in your contract that lets you out of all costume plays is
+perfectly good, you know," Mr. Vandeford heard him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>self saying when he
+had intended to bluster that same clause aside if the favorite had tried
+to stand on it, because he well knew that to see Gerald Height in silk
+stockings and lace ruffles a quarter of a million women might be counted
+upon to pay two dollars per capita and so assure at least a fifteen per
+cent. certainty to the box-office receipts of "The Purple Slipper,"
+whose fate had mysteriously come in the last few hours to mean so much
+to him. "Mr. Meyers has a youngster that we can whip into lead, I think.
+Now thank me for letting you out, and run along."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh," ejaculated Miss Patricia Adair, and the little exclamation of
+dismay hit both men at once and made them both sit up straight in their
+chairs. Also they both looked for a long minute at Miss Adair, and both
+were aware of the other's scrutiny. Mr. Height broke the tension.</p>
+
+<p>"I might see how buckskins and powdered wig would go," he said, with a
+tentative glance across the table, which began with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> Mr. Vandeford and
+ended with Miss Adair.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you would be perfectly beautiful, and I hope&mdash;" Miss Adair
+paused, and Mr. Height was as competent as either Miss Hawtry or Miss
+Lindsey had been to judge of the home-made color under the gray eyes.
+Also he was as much, perhaps more, affected by it, though in the
+presence of Mr. Vandeford he was wise enough to dissemble his delight.</p>
+
+<p>"Want me to try, Mr. Vandeford?" he questioned with greater deference
+than he had ever shown a mere manager in the last five years of his
+triumphant career.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, it would be a fifteen-per cent. drag if you are willing,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford with managerial delight and manly rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Can I have until to-morrow to decide?" asked Mr. Height. "You see, I
+haven't read the play or heard the layout," he added to the author of
+"The Purple Slipper," with deference in his rich voice that had thrilled
+its millions.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Could you make it this afternoon if Mr. Meyers goes into it with you?
+My other man has a big picture offered him at a good figure," Mr.
+Vandeford answered, with both fear and joy at the prospect of pressing
+the star into retreat.</p>
+
+<p>"Dolph has told me all he knows about it, which is nothing. He hasn't
+taken out any parts and seems to have lost the manuscript forever. I
+hope you kept a copy, Miss Adair." And again the two young things smiled
+at each other to Mr. Vandeford's devastation.</p>
+
+<p>"Why couldn't I tell Mr. Height about the play while you see the
+electrician and the other people, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair questioned,
+her candid gray eyes shining with such a sincere desire to be useful in
+the crisis that Mr. Vandeford could not suspect her of any adventurous
+motive. "We could go over in&mdash;into my office and you can call me any
+minute if you need me."</p>
+
+<p>"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Height. "Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> I could let you know right away if
+I thought I could do the part justice, Mr. Vandeford."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, as he motioned them into the inner
+office, which had been conferred upon the author of "The Purple
+Slipper," and rang his buzzer for Mr. Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Find Mr. Farraday and ask him to come around here immediately if he is
+anywhere near, or to come at four if he can't get here in ten minutes,"
+he commanded. "Heard from Mazie?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Howard is in a good working soak, is her report, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir, and I have the wire that Mr. Farraday is on his way here," was the
+double answer Mr. Meyers returned to Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Good! Give me my letters to sign," Mr. Vandeford answered.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Meyers brought in a sheaf of letters, and Mr. Vandeford was in the
+act of setting pen to paper when the door of the inner office opened
+after a gentle knock and Miss Adair entered, followed by Mr. Height.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford looked up quickly and found Miss Adair close beside his
+chair, looking down upon him with her beautiful reverence and confidence
+in him entirely unimpaired.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Height wants me to go and have luncheon with him and tell him about
+the play. He's hungry, and so am I. Can you spare me if I'm working
+while I'm eating? May I go?"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford rose to his feet quickly, and a great Broadway star was in
+closer danger of descending head-first from a six-story window upon that
+thoroughfare than he ever knew. Then "The Purple Slipper" rose and
+demanded its chance of success with Gerald Height as "drag" and the
+tragedy was averted.</p>
+
+<p>"Run along, children, and don't spill your milk on your bibs," he
+answered them, with a dissembling smile that would have done credit to
+Mr. Height himself when upon the boards with Miss Hawtry. They departed
+in great spirits, and Mr. Vandeford noticed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> that Mr. Height had not
+been at all concerned as to how his manager's inner man would be served.</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon Mr. Vandeford propped his feet upon the desk, got out one of
+the most evil of the cigars he kept in a drawer of his desk for just
+such crises, and went into communion with himself for ten minutes. Upon
+that communion broke Mr. Dennis Farraday, who got the full force of it.</p>
+
+<p>"I came to pick up you and Miss Adair to go out in the park to luncheon.
+It's cooler there. Where is she?" were the words with which Mr.
+Vandeford's partner in the production of "The Purple Slipper" greeted
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"She has gone out to luncheon with a damned tango lizard," was the
+disturbed and disturbing answer his courtesy received.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, bristling.</p>
+
+<p>"She met Gerald Height a half-hour ago, here in this office, and then
+went out to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> luncheon with him," was Mr. Vandeford's answer to Mr.
+Farraday's bristling.</p>
+
+<p>"Without consulting you?"</p>
+
+<p>"No! I consented all right enough."</p>
+
+<p>"Why didn't you tell her if you didn't want her to go with him?"</p>
+
+<p>"See here, Denny, I want to ask you if anything in my past life makes
+you think that I am a proper old hen to have a downy little chicken
+thrust right under my wing for safe keeping, whether I hatched her or
+not?" Mr. Vandeford demanded, and his rage was so perfectly impersonal
+and perplexed that Mr. Farraday sat down to go into the matter to his
+rescue.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, Van?" he asked in a calm voice and manner that were
+most grateful to Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Just this: Here's a girl come up here, from a place where a girl is
+guarded like a pearl of great price, into the muck and excitement of the
+getting together of a Broadway production in which she is directly
+interested. I don't know what to do. If I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> spend my time hovering over
+her, her show will go cold and break her. She's poor. I told her as much
+of what she is in for as I dared and still she wants to stay and see it
+all through, demands to stay and be let in for the whole thing. What'll
+we do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose she'd go with me up to visit the mater and be motored down to
+participate in&mdash;in expurgated moments?" asked Mr. Farraday, as he
+ruffled his hair into a huge plume on the top of his head.</p>
+
+<p>"She would not. She's got a taste of it and she'll thirst for more. And,
+for all that unsophistication, she is a clever kid. She'll get Height
+into a costume play before luncheon is over and that'll go a long way to
+cinch a hit for 'The Purple Slipper.' He's made a fad of not playing
+costume, and all the women in New York will flock to see him in velvet
+and lace. She bargained that fish Corbett out of four hundred dollars in
+the preliminary costume deal, and if anybody has to send her home it
+will have to be you. I can't do it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Well, just gently warn her about Height and things of that kind, can't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot! Would you tell a woman who is walking a tight rope that the
+ground sixty feet below her is covered with broken champagne bottles?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then she's got to go home," decided Mr. Dennis Farraday, positively.</p>
+
+<p>"How'll you make her?"</p>
+
+<p>"You've got to do it. She's got awe of you planted six feet deep in her
+soul. Anybody could see that. You've got to send her."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't be done," growled Mr. Vandeford in desperation. "Wish I were
+married to six respectable women and then I could make 'em all chaperon
+her in turns, while I feed her fool play to the public."</p>
+
+<p>"You'd only have to strike out the syllable 'un' before 'married' by a
+little trip to the City Hall to have one mighty fine wife," Mr. Farraday
+said with a straight look into Mr. Vandeford's eyes, which was so deeply
+affectionate that it gave him the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> privilege of opening the door to any
+holy of holies.</p>
+
+<p>"Violet and I are all off, Denny, and it ought never to have been on,"
+was the straight-out answer he got to his venture, an answer that Miss
+Hawtry would have felt smoothed greatly the path of her present
+adventures in life.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor girl! I knew she was hurt somehow, but I thought&mdash;forgive me, old
+man." With a tenderness in his voice that both alarmed and puzzled Mr.
+Vandeford his big Jonathan closed the subject and snapped a lock on it.
+"Come over to the Astor with me for a cold bite."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!"</p>
+
+<p>The cool, green-leafed Orangery at the Hotel Astor is the oasis in the
+desert days of rehearsal for all early fall plays, and beside its
+tinkling fountain and under its tinkling music can be found at luncheon
+all of the theatrical profession who are not around the corners at the
+equally cool, white-tiled Childs restaurants. Beside and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> around the
+green wicker tables careers of managers, artists, actors, playwrights,
+electricians, and scenic artists are made and unmade in the twinkling of
+some bright or heavy-lidded eye. Each and every feaster watches each and
+every other feaster with the quick, wary eye of a jungle being consuming
+its food before it is snatched from him or her; and gossip reigns over
+all.</p>
+
+<p>"Gee, look at the swell dame Gerald Height has got cornered over there!"
+exclaimed Mazie Villines, as she looked up from a frapp&eacute;d melon, which a
+"heavy" moving picture man was "buying" for her consumption. "The way
+them society queens do fall fer him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Put your blinkers on, Mazie, put 'em on, and don't take a shy at Height
+over my knife and fork! Let him eat what he pays for and me the same,"
+growled the huge man. "I let you put up that drunk Howard for a week,
+and that's rope enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to feed him the green in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> 'runny' eggs; it makes me sick to
+open for him," was the adored Mazie's way of speaking of her eminent
+playwright.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, get his wad first," was the heavy's advice.</p>
+
+<p>Just at this moment Mazie had the delight of seeing Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford enter with his "soup and fish" friend Mr. Dennis Farraday. As
+they both had to pass directly by the table at which sat Miss Adair and
+Mr. Height, of course they both paused for greetings, which included the
+introduction of Mr. Height to Mr. Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>"I could hardly eat in this beautiful cool place when I thought that
+maybe you would work on in the hot office with nothing with ice packed
+around it for your luncheon," said Miss Adair, as she raised her eyes to
+Mr. Vandeford's with the adoration still intact after at least
+three-quarters of an hour assault upon it by Mr. Gerald Height's
+disturbing personality. "I wanted to go back for you, but Mr. Height
+said that Mr. Meyers fed you cold pie when you were busy, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> that you
+roared dreadfully if anybody interrupted you when you were eating it!"</p>
+
+<p>"He does," Mr. Farraday interjected, smiling down at her in a way that
+it was unwise to do in the Orangery at noon; and it lighted a fuse he
+little suspected. Miss Violet Hawtry caught the smile in mid-air and
+then promptly turned her back and became all charming attention to the
+gentleman with whom she was having luncheon, who was no other than the
+celebrated Weiner, who had built three theatres in two years and was
+building more. He was of the bull-necked type of Hebrew and not of the
+sensitive, exquisite type of the sons of the House of David to which
+belong the E. &amp; K.'s, and the S. &amp; S., as well as the great B. D.</p>
+
+<p>"When will the new theatre be completed, Mr. Weiner?" Miss Hawtry asked,
+as she turned over an iced shrimp and tore at a lettuce leaf with her
+fork.</p>
+
+<p>"October first," answered Mr. Weiner, past a mouthful of Russian
+herring.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What will the opening show be?" asked Miss Hawtry, with indifference,
+though there was a glint under her thick lashes lowered over her
+snapping Irish eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"'The Rosie Posie Girl,'" answered Weiner, and he swallowed his herring
+and gave her a shrewd glance at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>"Vandeford will never sell it to you," Miss Hawtry announced calmly, as
+she ate the shrimp and the torn lettuce leaf.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe!" answered Weiner with equal calmness. "What are his plans for
+his new show that he is tearing up Forty-second Street about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Road from September fifteenth until New York October first."</p>
+
+<p>"What theater in New York?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know." As she made this answer Miss Hawtry looked up and caught
+a snap in Weiner's small black eyes, perched on each side of the hump of
+his red nose.</p>
+
+<p>"Has the show got goods?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to put some into it," answered Miss Hawtry calmly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"I like Mr. Dennis Farraday, who's Vandeford's angel. I don't want to
+see Van take the money out of his pocket and get away with it." Miss
+Hawtry was dealing in half-truths to a lie expert.</p>
+
+<p>"Hooked Farraday yet?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite."</p>
+
+<p>"No use bargaining with a woman when she's fishing for a man, but if he
+slips the hook come to me and I'll show you a new bait. When do you
+open?"</p>
+
+<p>"Twenty-third of September, at Atlantic City."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be there."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you will, and&mdash;" but the rest of Miss Hawtry's remark was cut
+off by Mr. Dennis Farraday's genial greeting, backed by Mr. Vandeford's
+more restrained pleasure at happening upon her and her co-plotter, to
+whom she introduced Mr. Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>The exchange of amenities was as brief as it was cordial, but as Mr.
+David Vandeford and Mr. Jonathan Farraday passed on to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> table which
+the discreet head waiter had reserved in case of the unexpected and
+tardy arrival of just such personages as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and his
+friend, Mr. Farraday, Miss Hawtry had answered a low-voiced question
+from Mr. Farraday with a sadly tender smile and the words:</p>
+
+<p>"At eight?"</p>
+
+<p>"The Claridge got me a box for the Big Show and a table at the Grove
+Garden for to-night, Van," remarked Mr. Farraday, as he unfolded his
+napkin. "It is the coolest place in town, and we might as well let the
+kid get just one good peep before she goes back into the shell ... if
+she goes. I'll take Miss Hawtry on and leave the box number for you and
+Miss Adair."</p>
+
+<p>"Right-o," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a growl. For the life of him he
+could not understand just why Mr. Gerald Height should have the
+privilege of feeding his author alone, while he seemed to be always
+forced to enjoy her company in the presence of others. He looked across
+the room, met<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> the gray eyes laughing at him over a glass that was
+plainly iced tea, and was forced to exchange smiles with his downy
+little chicken, who was delightedly peeping out of her shell.</p>
+
+<p>"I think Mr. Vandeford is the most wonderful man I ever met," confided
+Miss Adair to Mr. Height, with no suspicion of the incitation such a
+remark would be to the ardor of the beloved of many women.</p>
+
+<p>"He's a great producer; had three big hits hand-running and fell down on
+'Miss Cut-up' because he wouldn't stand up to Hawtry, and let her cop
+the whole show," answered Mr. Height with great generosity, for in
+reality Mr. Height had the very poor opinion of Mr. Vandeford that it is
+the custom of all actors to hold in regard to their respective managers.
+However, he was sugar-coating the pill he was determined to administer
+to Miss Adair without delay. "He ought to marry Hawtry and get a bit in
+her mouth and the spurs on."</p>
+
+<p>"Is&mdash;is he in love with Miss Hawtry?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> asked the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" with great interest, and the home-made color rose several
+degrees, that were not warranted by the calm gossip of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"That's the noise he makes, but who can tell?" answered Mr. Height,
+reveling in the Adairville roses and no more aware of their origin than
+was their owner. "He meets bills, but nobody gets in behind his
+window-boxes." And Mr. Height raised his glass of Tom Collins, perfectly
+contented with the thought that he had enlightened Miss Adair about the
+private life of Mr. Vandeford. As a matter of fact he had failed utterly
+to do so, as she had not understood a word of his Broadway patois.
+"There's the great B. D. and beloved son-in-law," and Mr. Height nodded
+and smiled at a white-haired man and his companion who were seating
+themselves at the table next to them.</p>
+
+<p>"B. D.?" questioned Miss Adair.</p>
+
+<p>"Benjamin David," answered Mr. Height. "He and his son-in-law are
+putting on a great new show. Offered me a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> lead and&mdash;but I think I'll
+stick by 'The Purple Slipper.'" His eyes were so ardent as slightly to
+disturb Miss Adair and very greatly disturb Mr. Vandeford, who caught
+the warmth across several tables, and ground his teeth.</p>
+
+<p>However, Miss Patricia Adair was fully capable of handling such a
+situation, for ardor is ardor, whether encountered on Broadway in New
+York or Adairville in Kentucky, and Miss Adair had met it many
+times&mdash;and parried it.</p>
+
+<p>"I've really got to leave this perfectly lovely place and hurry down to
+the Y. W. C. A., to get some costume samples for Mr. Corbett," she said
+calmly, as she began to draw on her gloves and pull down the veil that
+reefed in the narrow brim of the jaunty hat Miss Lindsey and she had by
+a great stroke of luck discovered on a side street the day before.</p>
+
+<p>"Y. W. C. A.?" questioned Mr. Height, in stupefaction.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody looks that way when I say<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> it!" laughed Miss Adair, with a
+dimple flaunting above the left corner of her mouth. "Will you take me
+there or put me on something or in something that will let me off very
+near?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take you," answered Mr. Height tenderly and heroically, as he held
+the blue-silk coat for her to slip into.</p>
+
+<p>As the two of them stood together the great Dean of American Producers
+looked upon them with interest, and rose and offered his hand to Mr.
+Height.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how about it?" he asked, with a smile under his beetling white
+brows.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. David, please meet Miss Adair, the author of Mr. Vandeford's new
+Hawtry play," Mr. Height said by way of beginning an answer to the
+question put to him. "At last I'm going into wig and ruffles; the play
+is of colonial Kentucky."</p>
+
+<p>"I am delighted to meet you, Miss Adair," said the Broadway Maximus,
+"and you are fortunate to have Mr. Height for your play. I covet him,
+but I'll wait until next time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank you for not taking him away!" said Miss Adair, with a
+displaying of the roses which the great B. D. noted with pleasure. "Will
+you come and see our play and tell us what you think about it?" Miss
+Adair made her request, which was against the traditions of conventions
+on Broadway, with the unabashed air with which she had invited the
+reigning Governor of Kentucky to have dinner with her and Major Adair at
+the state fair the year before.</p>
+
+<p>"Ask Mr. Vandeford to invite me to a dress rehearsal," answered the
+great one, and Gerald Height beamed with pride, while Miss Adair
+displayed only gratitude and delight as they took their departure.</p>
+
+<p>In their exit they passed Mr. Vandeford's table and stopped to speak to
+him and Mr. Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Benjamin David Mr. Height introduced to me, and he's coming to
+help us at the dress rehearsals of 'The Purple Slipper.' It's
+wonderful!" Miss Adair ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>claimed, as Mr. Vandeford rose and stood
+beside her. "Mr. Height is going down to the Y. W. C. A. with me, and
+we'll be right back to the office with those pieces of silk for the
+costumes. Mr. David wants him for lead, but he's going to be in 'The
+Purple Slipper' and go to Mr. David next. Isn't that fine?" and without
+waiting for an answer to her question the busy playwright departed on
+important business connected with the costuming of her play.</p>
+
+<p>"Somehow, Van, I don't see why we should worry," Mr. Farraday said, as
+he looked at the retreating figures of the pair whose beauty was
+attracting no little attention in the feasting Orangery. "She's
+<a name="corr17" id="corr17"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn17" title="changed from 'geting'">getting</a>
+along all right, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Remember you've been in the business about forty-eight hours, Denny,
+and never forget that every knife here is sheathed in a smile and
+everybody carries a rubber stamp with double X on it," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, with gloom, as he pushed back his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> coffee-cup. "She's tasted
+blood now and that ends it. She's with us, and the Lord help her! I
+can't!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, come on and let's get to the office," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+a cheerful lack of sympathy with his friend's anxiety for the talented
+budding playwright.</p>
+
+<p>"Everything all O. K., Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he passed the
+table where the Miss Villines and the heavy movie man were finishing
+their bottles of cold beer.</p>
+
+<p>"Soused and scribbling," answered Mazie, cheerfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Remember, Friday."</p>
+
+<p>"Remember your check-book."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!"</p>
+
+<p>Shortly after Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday reached the office of Mr.
+Vandeford, Miss Adair, accompanied by Mr. Height, appeared with a neat
+little parcel in their possession. Also Miss Adair had another, very
+conventional, corsage bouquet in the place of the one Mr. Vandeford had
+given her in the morning and which at lunch<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>eon had begun to look the
+worse for wear.</p>
+
+<p>"Now what shall I do?" she asked Mr. Vandeford, with great energy.</p>
+
+<p>"Go right down and get in my car and go back to the Y. W. C. A., to take
+a long nap. I'll call for you for that Broadway eye-opener at eight
+o'clock to-night, so get 'em well rested," he answered, and he smiled
+when he noted that the expression in her eyes that he had begun to look
+for with desperate eagerness still held. Mr. Meyers had engaged Mr.
+Height with a contract, and Mr. Farraday had been an interested
+spectator to the tussle. Producer and author were alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Height asked me to go to see Maude Adams, but I told him I couldn't
+go anywhere at night until you could take me," said Miss Adair with
+sparks of joy in the sea-gray eyes. "I'm so glad it is to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you really tell Height that?" demanded Mr. Vandeford, with youth
+swelling through his arteries.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Go, child, go and get a nap," Mr. Vandeford laughed, as he opened the
+door for her and started out to descend and deliver her into the keeping
+of faithful Valentine.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll put her into the car, Van," offered Mr. Farraday. "They need you
+here in this fight."</p>
+
+<p>And again his author was snatched out of Mr. Vandeford's clutches.</p>
+
+<p>Several hours later a very interesting scene was enacted in two tiny
+adjoining rooms under the roof of the Y. W. C. A., with Miss Adair and
+Miss Lindsey as the principals.</p>
+
+<p>"If you take away all that net there won't be any waist left to the
+dress. Don't!" pleaded Miss Adair, as Miss Lindsey stood over her with
+determined scissors.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm making it absolutely perfect, and you can't tell by looking down on
+it. You'll have to trust me," answered Miss Lindsey, with pins in her
+mouth, as she snipped away a funny little tucker of common new net with
+which Miss Elvira Henderson of Adair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>ville, Kentucky, had for the sake
+of her spinster convictions ruined a triumph she had accomplished
+directly out of "Feminine Fashions" and the ancestral trunk.</p>
+
+<p>"Will it be&mdash;be modest?" demanded Miss Adair.</p>
+
+<p>"A lot more modest than having that ugly mosquito netting telling
+everybody that you are not willing to have them see your marvelous neck
+and arms except through its meshes. Nobody will think you know you've
+got 'em, if you show them like everybody else; but they'll think you
+think you are a peep-show if you cover them half up." And as she spoke
+Miss Lindsey gave another daring rip and snip. Her philosophy struck
+home.</p>
+
+<p>"That's every word true," agreed Miss Adair, with relief. "I'll just
+forget about my skin there, as I do about that on my face and hands and
+nobody will notice me at all."</p>
+
+<p>"That's it. Skin is no treat to New York, and nobody will look at you
+twice." Miss Lindsey had a struggle to keep her voice and manner
+unconcerned enough, as she sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>veyed her finished product and saw that
+from under her hands would go forth a sensation. In the old ivory satin
+with its woven rosebuds and cream rose-point, above which rose pearly
+shoulders and a neck bearing a small, proud head, with close waves of
+heavy black hair, Miss Adair was like a dainty, luscious, tropical fruit
+that is more beautiful than its own flower. "How an old maid in a
+country town made that dress I don't see!" Miss Lindsey added
+reflectively.</p>
+
+<p>"It was you, who unmade it," answered Miss Adair with gratitude. "I wish
+you were going, too," she added as she nestled to the taller girl for a
+perfumed second.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to luncheon with you and Mr. Farraday to-morrow," answered
+Miss Lindsey, with a pleased laugh at Miss Adair's sudden clinging that
+indicated her sincerity in not wishing to leave her alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, lovely! And Mr. Height will be with us too, for I promised to have
+luncheon with him again," she exclaimed, as Miss Lindsey began to insert
+her into an evening<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> wrap made of a priceless old Paisley shawl which
+"Fashions" had also tempted Miss Elvira to desecrate with her scissors.</p>
+
+<p>"Gerald Height?" asked Miss Lindsey, and her eyes first snapped and then
+smouldered. "Where did he get in on&mdash;where did you meet him? Does Mr.
+Vandeford know about it and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I met him in Mr. Vandeford's office. He's in 'The Purple Slipper,' and
+I went to luncheon with him to-day. I meant to tell you about it, and
+meeting Mr. David, but Mr. Vandeford told me to get a nap and I thought
+I&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here the speaking-trumpet in the hall informed Miss Lindsey that Mr.
+Vandeford was waiting for Miss Adair below, and she had to let her
+treasure depart from her.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder just how straight Godfrey Vandeford is," she mused, as she
+picked up the discarded tucker of coarse netting. "The poor kid! I wish
+she was at home hidden behind Miss Elvira's skirts. Hawtry and a girl
+like that! Damn men!"</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+
+<p>It may be that in the long life of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford he had passed a
+more perturbed evening than that on which he led his prot&eacute;g&eacute;, the author
+of "The Purple Slipper," to her d&eacute;but under the white lights of
+Broadway, but he could not recall the occasion. His grilling had begun
+while he waited for his charge to descend in the lobby of the Y. W. C.
+A. and it ended&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"We are delighted to have Miss Adair stay with us while her play is
+being rehearsed," a very pleasant young woman, with a trim figure, kind
+and wise eyes, and gray-sprinkled hair, remarked to him after she had
+whistled the fact of his arrival above. "When such men as you, Mr.
+Vandeford, begin to put on clean historical plays, many of our anxieties
+will be over. I look on each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> musical show that appears on Broadway as a
+personal enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad indeed, Madam, that we are going to claim you as a friend of
+'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Vandeford answered, with his most pleasant
+smile. Somehow the sight and sound of that executive young woman in
+charge of his young author gave him a calmness that he needed, and his
+confidence shone in his face.</p>
+
+<p>"We are deeply interested in Miss Adair, for we have had influential
+letters sent us about her, and of course we are looking forward with
+eagerness to seeing her play. She is such a dear child!"</p>
+
+<p>The influential letters and the increased warmth in the young woman's
+tone in speaking about his author drew Mr. Vandeford still nearer to
+her, both in body and in spirit. He leaned slightly against the desk and
+smiled again.</p>
+
+<p>"May I send you seats for some night the first week of 'The Purple
+Slipper'?" he asked, with the greatest deference. And it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> must be
+recorded that in making the offer Mr. Vandeford was not bidding for the
+distinction conferred on him in the next few seconds.</p>
+
+<p>"That will be delightful," exclaimed the young woman. "And, Mr.
+Vandeford, here is a latch-key to the front door, to use to-night if you
+and Miss Adair are a little later than midnight in coming home. Remember
+to give it to her after you have put her inside the door and tell her to
+hang it on the rack opposite the number of her room. There she comes
+now!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford accepted the latch-key of the Y. W. C. A. with awe and
+looked at it as he would have looked at a decoration handed him by the
+Metropolitan governors. Then he glanced up and beheld Miss Adair
+displaying herself to his new-found friend.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very pretty, my dear," she was saying with an affectionate
+smile. "Just let me put a pin here in this fold of lace," and expertly
+she reefed up the last fold of rose-point that Miss Lindsey had snipped
+down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> in a hurried finish of her remodeling. Strange to say Mr.
+Vandeford felt still more further drawn to his young Christian
+Association friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Now run along, both of you, and have a pleasant evening," she said to
+them as she turned to answer the telephone.</p>
+
+<p>"That girl is an extremely delightful person," Mr. Vandeford remarked,
+while he and Valentine were tucking Miss Adair under the linen robe in
+the car.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm so glad you are getting used to the Y. W. C. A.," Miss Adair
+answered, giving him a delighted smile as he seated himself beside her
+while Valentine started the car up the avenue. "Mr. Height said it was
+like being forced to go to church in a strange town and getting into
+somebody's cozy corner by mistake."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I were married to that girl, to-night," Mr. Vandeford exclaimed
+out of the sudden rush of anxiety that had overtaken him by this
+fledgling author's mention of his leading man.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Then who would be taking me out, out on Broadway?" asked Miss Adair
+with a little laugh that had a more distinctly friendly note in it than
+it had before held for him.</p>
+
+<p>"Both of us," replied Mr. Vandeford, with an answering laugh that
+sounded much too young in his own ears. "You'll need two."</p>
+
+<p>"Am I going to have as many dreadful things happen to me to-night as I
+was going to have when I met Mr. Corbett and Mr. Benjamin David and Mr.
+Height and the other theatrical people? Am I being warned again?" Mr.
+Vandeford accepted the teasing and laughed at himself.</p>
+
+<p>"My wings are up. Go out and scratch for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Not very far, though," Miss Adair answered. Mr. Vandeford was not sure
+that she moved a fraction of an inch nearer to him, but he hoped so. "I
+feel just the same about you as I do about Roger and I like to be going
+with you&mdash;into&mdash;into danger."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Who's Roger?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"He's my brother, who treats me as you do. It's fun for a woman to be
+frightened dreadfully when she is with a man she likes." Again there was
+that uncertainty as to whether Miss Adair fluttered a fraction of an
+inch in his direction, and for the life of him Mr. Vandeford could not
+say whence had flown all the many ways he would have commanded
+ordinarily for the finding out if such were the case.</p>
+
+<p>"A frightened woman is often rather&mdash;rather deadly to a man," he
+answered before he could stop himself. The habit of speaking out
+directly to Miss Adair was growing on him, he perceived, and it alarmed
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Into what danger are you taking me now?" asked Miss Adair with a fluty,
+merry laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"We are going with Mr. Farraday and Miss Hawtry to see the Big Show and
+to the Grove Garden on the roof afterward for supper. Just a slow, usual
+sort of an eve<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>ning, but Denny thought it would be fun for you to see
+the Big Show and the Big Feed and the Big Dance by way of initiation,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered, with an entire lack of enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to see what you wanted me to see this first night," Miss Adair
+said with the affectionate frankness of six years going on seven. "What
+would that be?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see it to-morrow night," Mr. Vandeford answered her, and this
+time the tenderness in his voice surprised him and he considered it
+entirely unjustifiable.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Height was going to take me to see Maude Adams, but I know he'll
+put it off again when I tell him that you want me to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, don't! Let Height get Maude Adams out of his system, for Heaven's
+sake," snapped Mr. Vandeford, this time in unjustifiable temper.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what is&mdash;" Miss Adair was asking of Mr. Vandeford in positive
+alarm when Valentine stopped before the blazing doorway of the Big Show.
+A functionary seven<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> feet tall opened the door of the car and all but
+literally extracted them by force, for he was anxious to repeat the
+operation on the occupants of the car chugging behind them.</p>
+
+<p>Now, there are many, many fair women born within the state lines of Old
+Kentucky who live calm and peaceful lives and die and are buried with no
+greater contrast of experience than comes from birth and death, love and
+hate, riches and poverty, and they never know the difference; but
+occasionally one bursts out of her bonds and flames her beauty over
+strange worlds, in foreign embassies, in the courts of St. James or
+Petrograd, or in an opera or theater box in New York. When this eruption
+occurs many sparks fly. And many sparks from bright eyes were showered
+on the author of "The Purple Slipper," who sat calmly unaware in the
+left stage-box of the Big Show that August night beside the notorious
+Hawtry, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and Mr. Dennis Farraday. And of the
+sparks no one was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> more conscious than both Miss Hawtry and Mr.
+Vandeford, while big Dennis was in a blissfully ignorant state of mind
+like to that of Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Though he
+had been for about forty-eight hours a producer on the rear side of the
+footlights, Mr. Farraday still had the attitude of mind possessed by one
+of an audience, and he watched the stage rather than the "front." He
+thus failed to get the impression created by his guest from Kentucky,
+and blissfully left Mr. Vandeford to deal with her sensations derived
+from the show. Mr. Vandeford had his hands full.</p>
+
+<p>To Miss Adair the Big Show was a series of mental and moral and artistic
+explosions. She sat with delight through the Japanese acrobats and Swiss
+quartette of yodelers, and she welcomed pretty, pert little Mazie
+Villines with enthusiasm that gradually faded into horror as that artist
+flaunted more and more lingerie and "dished the dirt" which the
+inebriate playwright, at that moment engaged in "putting pep" into Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
+Adair's own beloved "Purple Slipper," <i>n&eacute;e</i> "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," had supplied. The "dirt" was received by the audience at
+large with a hilarious joy that entirely justified the managers of the
+Big Show for keeping Mazie busy "dishing."</p>
+
+<p>However, all things come to an end, and with a last provocative,
+revealing kick Mazie was allowed to depart and give way to a pair of
+young dancers who promised to display wares more wholesome.</p>
+
+<p>Without knowing why he did it, Mr. Vandeford leaned forward so that his
+left ear was within reach of the whisper of Miss Adair's lips as she
+turned her head and tilted it like a droopy flower toward his.</p>
+
+<p>"I've only seen Sarah Bernhardt and John Drew and Maude Adams and
+Mansfield and Joe Jefferson and Arliss and the Coburns, up in
+Louisville," she faltered with her eyes questioning his and wide open
+with horror.</p>
+
+<p>"These next ones aren't so bad, and we'll go before any more come on
+that&mdash;that you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> won't like," he whispered in return. He had glanced
+through the program and seen that the climax would be an exhibition of
+jungle courtship by one of America's most notorious women and her
+partner, done to extreme negroid melody.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you," she murmured as she turned to watch the willowy youth and
+maid go through some very beautiful movements of the dance that was
+entirely unobjectionable. In two minutes she had turned her face,
+beaming with pleasure, so that Mr. Vandeford could see that all was well
+with her; and ten minutes later she giggled out loud at the repartee of
+two black-faced artists.</p>
+
+<p>During the respite that his knowledge of the numbers on the program gave
+him, Mr. Vandeford did more of his peculiar brand of thinking, and
+reached a diplomatic conclusion. By the intermission, which came just
+before the jungle "big number" to give late comers time to gather in for
+their salacious feast, he was ready to act.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Miss Adair and I are going to get a breath of air," he announced.</p>
+
+<p>"But the big number is next, and she might miss it," objected Miss
+Hawtry, with solicitude for Miss Adair's pleasure. Mr. Vandeford had
+thought past just that objection delivered by Miss Hawtry, and he knew
+that in no way must he seem to be shielding the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" from the salaciousness that gave Miss Hawtry great joy. If he
+went too far in any act of comparative analysis he would bring danger
+upon "The Purple Slipper," with whose fate Miss Adair's was one.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll be back in plenty of time," he lied.</p>
+
+<p>"Be sure!" Miss Hawtry commanded, and then turned to devote herself to
+Mr. Farraday, who was laying himself out to salve what he thought must
+be her pain at the loss of his beloved friend. The Violet had soon
+caught his attitude toward her, and was encouraging his chivalry in
+every way possible by the most pensive of poses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> as the generous
+deserted. Such a situation is all to a woman's advantage if she knows
+how to work it, and Miss Hawtry possessed that knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>"Van ought to have a medical degree for operating young girls' eyes
+open, and making them see rose-colored for a while," she said with a
+good-humored smile and a soft little sigh, as she raised her Irish eyes
+in all their softness to Mr. Farraday's.</p>
+
+<p>To this insinuation, founded on an implied lie as far as the Hawtry was
+concerned, Mr. Farraday made no reply, but turned to greet with fitting
+applause the great dancer, on whose account one of the American artistic
+bright lights had been extinguished forever, and in ten seconds was
+inwardly thanking Vandeford for extracting Miss Adair before she had
+felt the blighting smirch of the big number. While Mr. Farraday watched
+the exhibition before him, Mr. Vandeford was amusing the child of their
+joint solicitude by letting her look at the white lights. While waiting
+at the curb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> before the Big Show for the large dignitary in uniform to
+summon Valentine, he had directed that worthy to have a message sent in
+to Miss Hawtry that they would join her at supper. Then upon the arrival
+of his car, he had carefully inserted Miss Adair before he had said to
+the puzzled Valentine:</p>
+
+<p>"Drive slowly down around the circle and down Broadway, so that you can
+come back just while the theater crowd is on."</p>
+
+<p>Some instinct had led Mr. Vandeford to choose exactly the panacea to
+soothe Miss Adair's shock&mdash;the lights of Broadway.</p>
+
+<p>"It's like fairy-land," she gasped, as they rolled down past
+Forty-seventh Street. "Oh, look at the kitten chasing the spool, all in
+electric lights!"</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute, and I'll show you an eagle flop his wings," promised Mr.
+Vandeford, and he was surprised that he seemed for the first time to
+feel the actual glory of the electric signs on his great Broadway, which
+is as much of an all-American institution as the shipyards in Brooklyn.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"All the world is on fire, and everybody is going to it," Miss Adair
+exclaimed, as Valentine made his return just as the theaters were
+pouring their crowds out into the seething maelstrom of the great
+scintillating ca&ntilde;on. She watched as the big car stood motionless before
+a stream of humanity that poured across its front wheels and then
+bounded forward as blue-coated arms stemmed the tide on the edges of
+both sidewalks for a few brief minutes in which they were allowed to
+progress to a street beyond, where they were again halted, wedged in
+with other impatient, purring cars.</p>
+
+<p>In a limousine next her Miss Adair saw a boy in a top hat, with white
+gloves upon his hands, smother in an eager and unabashed embrace a
+white-shouldered girl, whose arms went around his neck regardless of
+"mother" assiduously looking the other way. In a car on the other side a
+richly garbed gentleman dozed upon his cushions in triumphant inebriety.
+Also, while she and Vandeford waited, she saw a guardian spinster shoo
+a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> bevy of school-girls across in front of the cars, and turn in the
+middle of the street to reprove a college boy for a laughing word tossed
+to the combined bevy, while the blue arms on both sidewalks waved her
+into haste so that they might unleash their restrained monster motors.
+Everywhere protective men had women's arms fastened within their own and
+were shoving through the throng, while other men and women jostled along
+by themselves, or in companies of twos and threes, with laughing good
+nature. Fakirs were crying many wares, and in and out squirmed newsboys
+calling war extras in words that seemed to imply that New York was being
+shelled from the sea, but did not make that exact statement.</p>
+
+<p>"It's all the world, and I'm a part of it," Miss Adair again said, and
+Mr. Vandeford was again surprised at himself that he was not surprised
+to find tears glinting in the sea-gray eyes raised to his.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>This</i> is the Big Show," he said with a little answering thrill in his
+own voice, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> the enormity of the scene he had witnessed night after
+night broke on him for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>"They all live here and sleep here and eat here and work here
+and&mdash;and&mdash;love here," she said softly, and smiled, for again the
+limousine with the embracing lovers had paused by the side of
+Valentine's car, and the embrace still held.</p>
+
+<p>"No, the sleepers and eaters and workers of New York were in bed long
+ago. Everybody you see here in this push has his or her vital wires
+connected up at Squeedunck, Illinois, or Zanesville, Indiana or&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Or in Adairville, Kentucky," Miss Adair added with a laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you belong&mdash;anywhere. Creative people ought to have no&mdash;no home
+wires," Mr. Vandeford answered, and there was a queer sadness in his
+voice that he did not himself understand. "People with messages must
+have masses to hand them to. That's why you came, and, I suppose, must
+stay."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Miss Adair, "I want to stay&mdash;if you'll let me."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't do otherwise," Mr. Vandeford answered her. Then he turned and
+looked her full in her serious eyes. "But if you stay you will have to
+accept broad standards, or suffer."</p>
+
+<p>"That Mazie woman?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe worse."</p>
+
+<p>She sat silent until, a few moments later, Valentine drew up again at
+the curb before the Big Show, which had been out long enough to disperse
+most of its crowd, and was now receiving supper guests for the Garden
+Grove above.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to stay&mdash;with you&mdash;and 'The Purple Slipper,'" she announced,
+as he reached into the car for her and swung her to the pavement.</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!" he answered, with mingled emotions, which he could not have
+analyzed.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Adair was as good as her word. She accepted the reveling crowd of
+the garden,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> looked upon the abandon of drinking women and men, with
+only a slightly hunted expression in her eyes, and with her slim white
+hands applauded Simone when that artist made most audacious slings of
+her supple body in its scant clothing. She beamed upon the dancer when,
+as Mrs. Trevor, she came, at Mr. Farraday's invitation, to have a glass
+of champagne with them, and she quailed only once, when a band of
+extremely young girls, clothed in filmy garments, took tiny
+search-lights and went merrily hunting among the tables of laughing men
+and women after the lights had been put out for the sport. Her horror at
+observing Mr. Vandeford, who sat between her and the narrow aisle take
+various moneys from his pocket to defend himself from successive
+hunters, made her pale, and the moment the lights were flashed on again
+she rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Wonder what they'll do next," muttered Mr. Farraday, as he helped her
+into her wrap. Mr. Vandeford was not looking at his author or speaking.
+Once when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> had put his hand in his pocket to get out a coin for one
+of the teasing girls with her search-light he had felt the Y. W. C. A.
+latch-key there, and it had short-circuited him entirely.</p>
+
+<p>"I know you are tired. It takes some time to get the New York pace, but
+you'll strike it. I think I'll stay to see the next Folly with Mr.
+Farraday," he heard the Violet saying to Miss Adair, and still
+short-circuited, he went with his calm young author down to the car. The
+hour was one-thirty, and a moon had climbed the heights of the Broadway
+ca&ntilde;on. Valentine, with some sort of psychic direction, went across
+Central Park and down wide, clean, silent, and dimly lighted Fifth
+Avenue. Both Mr. Vandeford and Miss Adair were silent, and he was not
+aware that she was crying until just before they turned into her side
+street.</p>
+
+<p>"They were so young, those girls, and they&mdash;they didn't want to&mdash;to do
+that," she said with little catches in her beautiful, slurring,
+Blue-grass voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Maybe they didn't; but they wouldn't go back now, not one," he answered
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She was silenced, and stood quiet beside him as he opened the door of
+the big, gloomy, protective building, with the key the woman of another
+world than his had intrusted to him.</p>
+
+<p>"I know," she said at last, as she held out her hand to him. And because
+it trembled ever so slightly and was cold, he put his warm lips to it
+for a second before he handed her into a great international safety. He
+remembered the key, but he didn't give it to her. Somehow he wanted it
+himself. He liked the feel of it in his pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Wish I had Denny locked up in
+<a name="corr18" id="corr18"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn18" title="changed from 'the he'">the</a>
+Christian association!" he growled to
+himself as Valentine whirled him home.</p>
+
+<p>Just at that exact moment Mr. Dennis Farraday sat in Miss Violet
+Hawtry's Louis Quinze parlor at the Claridge, engaged in tenderly and
+awkwardly patting that star's sobbing white shoulder, as she lay on
+just<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> such a couch as Manon Lescaut probably had had for just such
+scenes.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't blame him at all," sobbed Miss Hawtry, provocatively, with the
+art of long practice both on the stage and off. "My kind always loses to
+hers when the time comes."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't!" pleaded Mr. Farraday. It was all he could or was willing to
+plead at that moment.</p>
+
+<p>"But I want to make good in this play for him and her&mdash;and you&mdash;before I
+go out of his life forever. I want to repay him with&mdash;with both money
+and happiness. He made me an artist." With these words Miss Hawtry made
+an acknowledgment of the truth that she herself really believed to be
+untrue, because she saw that to praise Mr. Vandeford was the best way to
+blind Mr. Farraday while she approached him in that blindness. She knew
+that his loyalty to his David would be a barrier unless she used it as a
+ladder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"My God! How&mdash;how great women are!" was the immediate and hoped-for
+response she drew from the big Jonathan.</p>
+
+<p>"My art must fill my life now. Only there will be&mdash;friendship. You make
+me see that by the comfort of your kindness." Miss Hawtry laid her
+flushed cheek in the hollow of good Dennis's big warm hand. The moment
+was tense, but Hawtry had timed her line a little too far ahead, and it
+failed to get across. The prey was as embarrassed as a girl and, with
+another brotherly pat, arose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll always let me do anything I can, won't you?" he asked as he
+looked down upon her for a second, then took a considerate departure.</p>
+
+<p>"Boob!" muttered Hawtry to herself, as she rose and rang for Susette.</p>
+
+<p>There are in this little old world many men like Dennis Farraday; only
+none of its inhabitants admit their existence.</p>
+
+<p>After the evening of the introduction of its author to Broadway, things
+spun fast and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> furiously in the business of producing "The Purple
+Slipper," and during the whirlwind of the day Miss Adair sat either in
+her own private office or in the chair beside Mr. Vandeford, and reveled
+in the excitement, and in the evenings did other revelings. She had her
+evening with Mr. Height under the spell of Barrie and Maude Adams, and
+Mr. Vandeford swore under his breath when she reported to him that they
+had gone to the concert on the roof of the Waldorf for an hour, and had
+got back to her abiding-place in time not to need the latch-key, which
+still reposed in his pocket. He knew Gerald Height, and he was puzzled
+and alarmed at this wary approach.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Farraday came to town, and the dinner-party in her staid, old
+Washington Square home, with himself and Miss Lindsey and Miss Adair as
+guests, was like a day's vacation for Mr. Vandeford. Also, he got a
+complete off-guard picture of Miss Adair as he would see her in
+Adairville, Kentucky, for she and the beautiful and stately Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
+Farraday spoke the same language and had the same forms.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear child, you positively must come up to Westchester for this
+week-end! Matilda Van Tyne is going to come for the first blooming of
+the rhododendrons in the West Marsh, and I feel sure that she must have
+known your mother in some of her visits to Lexington. She must see you
+and hear all about the play. Now, Dennis, make all the arrangements."
+Mrs. Farraday gave her commands as a queen is accustomed to deliver
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"May I go?" Miss Adair asked of Mr. Vandeford, her shining gray eyes
+raised to his with deference and confidence as usual.</p>
+
+<p>"You may," answered Mr. Vandeford, aware that Mrs. Farraday's keen eyes
+of the world were fixed upon him in a speculative way. "The rehearsals
+will begin at eleven on Monday, and you can be back in plenty of time."</p>
+
+<p>"And, Miss Lindsey, will you come, too, with Miss Adair?" Mrs. Farraday
+sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>prised both her son and Mr. Vandeford by asking the young Westerner
+with the greatest graciousness. It was evident that the young leading
+lady had put herself across with the grand dame, and both Mr. Vandeford
+and Mr. Farraday rejoiced.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Farraday, but I have made a professional engagement
+for Saturday evening. I am going to do a monologue stunt to fill in at
+the Colonial," Miss Lindsey answered, with pleasure at the invitation
+shining in her dark eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Then Dennis can drive down on Sunday and bring you back in time for tea
+and to see the sunset on the rhododendrons." Mrs. Farraday further
+surprised her son and Mr. Vandeford by giving this command the
+imperiousness with which she was accustomed to issue her
+much-sought-after invitations.</p>
+
+<p>"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Farraday, with the same sort of eager kindness
+shining in his eyes as Miss Lindsey had met when he had asked her if
+beefsteak and mushrooms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> would be the thing for her starvation. The
+memory of that day made Miss Lindsey's eyes dim as she accepted the
+invitation, though she had had hope of a last minute chance to do a
+little Sunday "stunt" for Keith somewhere in subway New York. And Miss
+Lindsey needed the money, for a hundred dollars doesn't go far in New
+York even when carried in the pocket of a gown donned in the Y. W. C.
+A.; but she needed the rhododendrons and the tea more than she needed
+the material things that the extra fifty picked up at Keith's would have
+purchased.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, Mrs. Farraday, it would be&mdash;be 'great' to come that way,"
+Miss Lindsey answered. Both Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday, as well as
+Miss Adair, were struck with the sudden beauty that illumined Miss
+Lindsey's dark face as she smiled and quoted Mr. Farraday in her
+acceptance of his mother's invitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Is or is not little Lindsey a beauty, Denny?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as
+they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> drove up-town in the Surreness after depositing the girls at their
+nunnery.</p>
+
+<p>"I was just wondering," answered Mr. Farraday. "I'm mighty glad she made
+such a hit with the mater."</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm mighty glad I'm going to lose the author of 'The Purple
+Slipper' into the wilds of Westchester and the rhododendrons, while I
+extract her play from Howard and slash it myself and help Rooney to
+mutilate it further," said Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course you are going to the mater's with Miss Lindsey and me for
+tea, per usual?" asked Mr. Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>"Can't do it. Got to work on 'The Purple Slipper' while you people
+frolic. Good-night!" With which refusal and taunt Mr. Vandeford left Mr.
+Farraday at the door of his apartment-house.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Farraday looked at his watch as he started away from the curb, found
+the hour to be eleven o'clock, wabbled the machine first to the right
+and then to the left, and finally turned down-town, in which direc<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>tion
+the Claridge reared its twelve stories of masonry at the corner of
+Forty-fourth and Sixth.</p>
+
+<p>At about that minute these were the remarks exchanged through the open
+door that connected two little cell-like rooms at the Y. W. C. A.:</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't you going to bed right away? I'm so sleepy that I'm brushing my
+face instead of my hair," Miss Adair called to Miss Lindsey. A desperate
+and continual desire for sleep is the pest that haunts the rural visitor
+to New York and Miss Adair's young health was easily its prey. She did
+not readily learn to run on nerves.</p>
+
+<p>"You go to bed; but I've got to let the hem of my tailored linen down
+two inches, so it will brush against those rhododendrons as a lady's
+should, and sew up the opening in the neck of my chiffon blouse an inch
+and a half, so I won't spill any of Mrs. Farraday's tea down it.
+Good-night!" It goes to say that when Greek meets Vandal or the East
+meets the West, dents occur.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>And, as Mrs. Farraday had commanded, the rhododendron party at West
+Marsh came to pass, to the vast enjoyment of all present, though Mr.
+Vandeford's absence was a deprivation to the entire company. And that
+night their friendly hearts would have ached if they had been able to
+get a vision of his strenuosity. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer,
+was in full action, and chips from "The Purple Slipper" were flying in
+all directions.</p>
+
+<p>In his bedroom in the Seventy-third Street apartment, Mr. Vandeford was
+stripped for the fray&mdash;to his silk pajamas&mdash;and he lay stretched upon
+his fumed-oak bed, with both reading-lights turned on full blaze. In his
+hands was the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper," which Mazie Villines
+had literally torn from under the hands of Grant Howard to deliver to
+Mr. Vandeford on Saturday afternoon, just a day later than the time set
+for its deliverance.</p>
+
+<p>"My check and Grant's down, or no play," she had said upon entering Mr.
+Van<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>deford's apartment at about the setting of the Saturday sun. "He's
+off for a two week's d.t., and I gotter take care of him. Twelve-fifty
+is the way to write it."</p>
+
+<p>"Six hundred, and not a cent more without Grant's signature," answered
+Mr. Vandeford. Mr. Adolph Meyers, who was listening to the conversation
+from the hall from which he had ushered Miss Villines into Mr.
+Vandeford's library, set a spring-lock on the entrance door of the
+apartment, and entered the library unobtrusively.</p>
+
+<p>"Twelve-fifty, you old dollar-skinner!" averred the vaudeville star,
+with a nasty little laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try to pull off a hold-up, Mazie. It won't work. It's Grant's
+money," said Mr. Vandeford, with an icy calmness in his voice. And as
+she spoke he looked at Mr. Adolph Meyers, who answered the look with
+perfect comprehension.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you'll get the manuscript when hell freezes over or your wad
+loosens," she again laughed, and this time turned toward<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> the door with
+the square manila portfolio under her arm.</p>
+
+<p>An interested spectator could not have said afterward just how it did
+happen that in half a second the manila portfolio was in the hands of
+Mr. Adolph Meyers, who also bore upon his left cheek a long and
+profusely bleeding scratch.</p>
+
+<p>"Here's your check, child, and keep a good grip on Grant, so he can't
+get started toward East River as he did last time," Mr. Vandeford said
+as he handed an already prepared check to the enraged girl. She was dumb
+for a second, no longer.</p>
+
+<p>"I was going to leave it for five hundred, you old white-skinned bluffer
+with your goose-grease, strong arm," she finally blurted out, and in a
+twinkling of her bright eyes her good-nature had returned. "Say, that is
+some play now, and I wish you'd let me play a dance girl at that
+dinner-party. I'd do it refined." There was a queer little appeal in the
+mobile young face. "I'd like to doll up like a lady."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll think that over, Mazie," answered Mr. Vandeford. "A song and dance
+from you might go all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Gimme a call, will you? I'll be on the job with my guzzler for a week
+now. I got to get him past, for he's some meal-ticket when times is
+dull." As Mazie disposed of the check in her stocking, a degree of
+affectionate anxiety for the condition of Mr. Grant Howard showed in her
+face for the fraction of a second, then disappeared as she looked at Mr.
+Adolph Meyers.</p>
+
+<p>"Come on and get my wad from where I've put it, if you dare, Dolph," she
+challenged, then laughed, as the imperturbable Mr. Meyers both ignored
+and showed her to the door with all courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>And as he lay on his bed reading over the Howard manuscript of "The
+Purple Slipper," which had just returned to him after a twenty-four hour
+overhauling and annotation for action by Mr. William Rooney, the stage
+director with the top price, Mr. Vandeford said to Mr. Adolph Meyers,
+who sat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> at a table beside the bed, taking down and inserting notes into
+the manuscript as they sprang from Mr. Vandeford's brain, almost before
+they got past his lips:</p>
+
+<p>"No wonder Mazie could see herself in this show, Pops! Grant has pepped
+it up almost to her standard. Whee-ugh!" With this whistle Mr. Vandeford
+turned page twenty of the first act and handed it over to Mr. Meyers,
+who began to devour it with eyes that took in almost the whole page at a
+glance.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a snap-shot of Miss Hawtry he has made, Mr. Vandeford, sir. Mr.
+Howard has never done better."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's what he intended to do, but I'm going to clean it out a
+bit. Run an insert of the scene on page five to seven and a half out of
+Miss Adair's manuscript. It is just as good and a little&mdash;little
+more&mdash;say, Pops, cut out seven lines on page fourteen from the second
+down, and take this from me instead." Mr. Vandeford closed his eyes and
+dictated a bit of dialogue be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>tween two of the minor characters of "The
+Purple Slipper," which cleared up a point Mr. Howard and Mr. Rooney and
+the original author had all left at loose ends. As he dictated, Mr.
+Meyers wrote on the blank page opposite the lines, and made some
+cabalistic signs for insertion.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly they progressed through the first act, Mr. Vandeford reading from
+two manuscripts and reconciling Mr. Howard's shaky, pen annotations, Mr.
+Rooney's blue-pencil, action directions, and Miss Adair's original
+wanderings from the point with many brilliant returns in quaint
+dialogue.</p>
+
+<p>"That child has got more brains and uses them less than would seem
+possible," growled Mr. Vandeford, as he with a few deft lines near the
+close of the second act got the heroine off the stage and out of an
+impossible situation in which Miss Adair had involved her.</p>
+
+<p>"It is that her characters talk with interest, but act in awkwardness,
+Mr. Vandeford, sir. Another good play can be written<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> by Miss Adair,"
+Mr. Meyers said as he put in two lines and a cross star sign.</p>
+
+<p>"God forbid!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, in all sincerity. "Here, Pops,
+get this first act down to those girls waiting in the office. Did you
+get two for all night, so one could get out the parts? You know Rooney
+will expect a reading to-morrow before he begins rehearsals."</p>
+
+<p>"It is three girls now waiting at the office for the night, and a
+messenger in your hall, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Meyers as he
+gathered up his annotated pages, put them into a new manila portfolio,
+and rose to take them to the A. D. T. boy asleep on the floor in the
+hall.</p>
+
+<p>"We haven't rushed in a manuscript like this since 'Dear Geraldine,'
+have we, Pops?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he picked up the second act.
+"It's just nine o'clock, and those girls ought to get through by three
+<span class="smcap">a. m.</span> Don't let Steinberg charge up twelve hours on you."</p>
+
+<p>"It will be at eight that they are still<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> working, Mr. Vandeford, sir,
+and night type-writing means much money," Mr. Meyers answered, as he
+departed with his package.</p>
+
+<p>"At that we'd better get busy to feed it to 'em," Mr. Vandeford said, as
+he picked up and began to dig into the pages.</p>
+
+<p>For the three hours ensuing he and his henchman worked with never a
+hitch in their growls and scratches and muttered exchanges. Then, as
+they came close to the climax of the last act, Mr. Vandeford sat up from
+his pillows, which were heated almost beyond endurance with his night
+lights and his
+<a name="corr19" id="corr19"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn19" title="changed from 'touseled'">tousled</a>
+head, and gave forth a roar.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be hanged if I'll let that scene between Rosalind and her lover go
+with that filthy twist that Howard has given it! The words are almost
+the original, but what will Hawtry make of what he's put into it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It will be the worst she makes," answered Mr. Meyers. "But it is for
+pep very good, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and can be tried out."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That's right, Pops. I wonder if I am a Broadway producer or&mdash;or the
+czar of a young ladies' seminary," Mr. Vandeford growled as he lay down,
+and again went to work.</p>
+
+<p>"It is that Miss Adair will not understand it until Miss Hawtry is at
+work, and before that all may be dead," Mr. Meyers consoled, as he, too,
+fell upon "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>At two-thirty the now soggy A. D. T. received the last manila
+<a name="corr20" id="corr20"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn20" title="changed from 'envelop'">envelope</a>
+to deliver to the busy girls down in Mr. Vandeford's office, and that
+distinguished producer was stretched out on his bed in cool darkness
+while Mr. Meyers was in a subway nodding his way up to his humble room
+on One Hundred and Sixteenth Street.</p>
+
+<p>"If I live through seeing her past the reading of the blamed thing
+to-morrow, I'll be stronger than I think I am," Mr. Vandeford murmured
+as he felt the calmness of sleep fall upon him.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+
+<p>Rehearsals for "The Purple Slipper" had been called positively for
+September first, and the response became unanimous at about fifteen
+minutes to eleven at the Barrett Theater on West Forty-sixth Street;
+that is, it was unanimous except for the presence of the author and the
+angel&mdash;Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday&mdash;and Miss Violet Hawtry, the star,
+who never came to first readings until the whole cast was assembled and
+could be impressed with the fact that she came and went as she listed.</p>
+
+<p>"Ladies and gentlemen, I take it that you all know one another&mdash;and Mr.
+William Rooney," said Mr. Vandeford, as he took a seat at the left of a
+table placed in the center of the stage just beyond the footlights. Mr.
+Rooney marched to a place beside him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> and rapped with a large black
+pencil for attention from the groups into which the dozen members of the
+cast had fallen after mutual introductions and greetings.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody grab a seat that is good enough to glue to for five hours
+while Fido here gives out your parts," commanded Mr. Rooney, without in
+any way acknowledging Mr. Vandeford's introduction to the company. Mr.
+Rooney's voice was low and rich, and had the precision and decision of a
+machine-gun in its utterances. With hurried obedience the entire company
+looked about the stage for seats.</p>
+
+<p>Miss B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne, though having fifty pounds the advantage of any of the
+others in avoirdupois, was the first seated. She merely dropped down
+upon a stout pine bench, the front of which was stuccoed to represent
+antique marble, and peremptorily motioned Mr. Wallace Kent to that
+portion of the seat left after she had wedged herself as far to one side
+as possible. Mr. Kent obeyed immediately, though he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> just placed a
+rickety, stuffed chair beside the gold one occupied by Miss Blanche
+Grayson, the glowerer. Miss Lindsey sat on the end of an overturned box
+hedge before a drop curtain of a twilight night, and Mr. Reginald Leigh
+sat in a wicker chair under a brilliant canvas flowering shrub of no
+known variety. The rest of the company were soon seated and receiving
+the small, blue-backed, manuscript books from the pale young man whom
+Mr. Rooney always addressed as Fido.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody here but Miss Hawtry," said Mr. Rooney, and he glared at Mr.
+Vandeford as though that gentleman must be concealing the star in the
+pocket of his gray, silk-crash coat.</p>
+
+<p>"And Miss Hawtry is here also," came in a very beautifully modulated
+voice from left stage, as the tardy star came down center, and stood
+directly in front of the table at which sat the producer and his
+stage-manager. Mr. Vandeford rose immediately and said good-morning; Mr.
+Rooney kept his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> seat and looked Miss Hawtry through and through with a
+cold reproof.</p>
+
+<p>"Five minutes late," he said with an edge in the words that cut.</p>
+
+<p>"I really beg your pardon, and it shall not happen&mdash;" the star was
+beginning to say in an apologetic tone, which bent under the cold edge
+of the assault, as Mr. Vandeford had hoped it would, when Mr. Rooney cut
+it off with a curt command to pale Fido.</p>
+
+<p>"Give out the Hawtry part."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hawtry accepted the little blue booklet handed her by Fido, and
+also Mr. Vandeford's chair, placed carefully in the center of the stage
+for her. The first brush between Mr. Rooney and Miss Hawtry had been
+pulled off and he had won, much to Mr. Vandeford's delight. For "Miss
+Cut-up" he had had to hire, pay for, and fire, three successive
+stage-managers, and she had managed all three. Mr. Rooney's boast was
+that no star had ever managed him and that he had successfully staged
+every play he had undertaken; hence a spec<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>tacular salary. Also he felt
+that his reputation was at stake in the Hawtry duel, and he was
+determined to back his own method.</p>
+
+<p>"Scene first, act first; Betty Carrington is discovered on stage. Go to
+it, Betty!" he commanded as Fido took a seat at the end of the table,
+opened a copy of the first act, and sat ready for annotations.</p>
+
+<p>"How beautiful the morning is and&mdash;" the glowering Miss Blanche Grayson
+was beginning to read from her cerulean booklet, when an interruption
+occurred.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday entered from the stage door.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford looked at Mr. Rooney, and muttered under his breath:
+"Angel and author, Bill. Easy!"</p>
+
+<p>"Shoot," answered Mr. Rooney, in a mild undertone, though he glared at
+the company as though in a cold rage.</p>
+
+<p>"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Miss Adair, the author of
+our play. You have all of you met Mr. Farraday. Mr. Rooney, our
+stage-director, Miss Adair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> and Mr. Farraday." Mr. Vandeford made the
+introductions as rapidly as possible and in a voice of such coolness
+that Miss Adair looked at him in astonishment and then at the assembled
+company with great timidity. With special trepidation did she regard Mr.
+Rooney, who had bobbed his scrubby, black-mopped head at her with no
+expression at all in his little black eyes, while he refused to see Mr.
+Farraday's offered hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Have seats in the left stage-box," he directed them in the same tone of
+voice with which he had quelled Miss Hawtry. "Now, get going there,
+Betty Carrington, and open again."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford led Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday out into the wings in a
+roundabout path to the left stage-box, and paused with them out of sight
+of Mr. Rooney. Then the humanity came back into his face and voice as he
+spoke to his friends in an undertone.</p>
+
+<p>"Rooney is the genius among stage-directors, but he's the original and
+genuine Tartar. How are you both?" As he asked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> the question he held out
+a hand to each of them, and his smile held the cordiality to which they
+were both accustomed.</p>
+
+<p>"We had a blow-out on Riverside Drive, and that's what makes us late.
+Now I've got to take the car around to the garage," Mr. Farraday
+apologized, as he rumpled his leonine mane, fanned himself with his hat,
+and departed.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Adair fairly clung to the hand of friendship offered her, with
+relief that it had not been withdrawn forever, as she had feared from
+the coolness of Mr. Vandeford's greeting before the assembled company of
+"The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm afraid," she murmured with both alarm and amusement sparkling in
+her gray eyes, in which Mr. Vandeford found himself searching for a
+certain expression with the eagerness with which he always looked for it
+after even a brief separation from his author. It was there and
+undimmed. "Let's go sit down where he told us to," Miss Adair
+whispered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Good girl!" laughed Mr. Vandeford as he led the way to the left
+stage-box to which Mr. Rooney had summarily banished the author and the
+angel. He seated Miss Adair at the front edge of the box and took the
+chair close at her left. She was thus bulwarked and buttressed for any
+assault that might be hurled her way. It came in a very few minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Miss B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne and Miss Mildred Lindsey were in the midst of reading an
+animated dialogue on page five by the time Miss Adair's attention was
+firmly riveted on the stage and the reading in progress. Fortunately the
+little scene was of her own writing. Mr.
+<a name="corr21" id="corr21"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn21" title="changed from 'Vanderford'">Vandeford</a>
+had put it back into
+the play instead of the paraphrase Mr. Howard had made of it, and he was
+surprised to find how deeply grateful he was to himself for having given
+her this bit as he watched the home-made color rise under the gray eyes
+as the author sat and heard her written words come to life in a little
+bit of really sparkling character comedy, which both Miss Lindsey<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> and
+experienced B&eacute;b&eacute; were acting as well as reading in such a way as to
+bring out all the charm of the lines. The happiness of both author and
+producer lasted about two minutes, then it was broken into by Mr.
+William Rooney with a crash.</p>
+
+<p>"Nuff, there, nuff!" he commanded, in the midst of a quaint epigram,
+which B&eacute;b&eacute; was delivering with unction. "Audiences don't want to hear
+smart babble after their seats are all down. They want to see the star
+and get going. Cut in Miss Hawtry at the second set-to of Harriet and
+aunt. Take it this way: 'And my dear Rosalind has said, Harriet&mdash;' Enter
+Rosalind with the line you have there."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's time for me to get on and&mdash;" Miss Hawtry was agreeing
+complacently, when she was quickly snapped off in her remark.</p>
+
+<p>"Line, Miss Hawtry, not gab," Mr. Rooney commanded.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly Miss Hawtry was reading from her lines and faithful Fido was
+making anno<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>tations upon his manuscript with strokes that spelled
+finality to the stricken author, who raised her protesting eyes to the
+producer of her play.</p>
+
+<p>"Steady now," Mr. Vandeford whispered. "This is the first reading, and
+he's setting. We can't side-track him now. Later you can&mdash;" but the
+author's attention was caught by the dialogue between Miss
+Hawtry and B&eacute;b&eacute;, which was the first full dose of the Howard
+fifteen-hundred-dollar, inebriate, but very brilliant and Hawtry-like,
+"pep."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I didn't write that at all!" she whispered, as she fairly shrank
+against Mr. Vandeford's strength of mind, if not against the strength of
+his arm that he had laid across the back of her chair.</p>
+
+<p>"Just sit still and listen to-day as though it were somebody else's
+play, and we will talk it over afterward. You know I&mdash;I warned you," he
+whispered with soothing tenderness, his lips almost against her ear in
+the dusk of the box.</p>
+
+<p>"I promised, and I will," she answered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> him, and he was at a loss to
+know if she really did flutter to him a fraction of an inch as he had
+suspected her of doing in his car on the night of her d&eacute;but on Broadway.
+The charm of Kentucky girls is composed of many illusions and realities,
+which they themselves hardly understand, and use by hereditary instinct.</p>
+
+<p>And with her proud head poised in all stateliness, Miss Patricia Adair
+sat for five solid hours and heard "The Purple Slipper," <i>n&eacute;e</i> "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind," read from first to last page by the people
+who were to present it to the public; and Mr. Vandeford found his heart
+bleeding for the thrusts into hers. Not a protest did she make, but the
+roses faded and the gray eyes sank far back behind their black defending
+lashes, and they were glittering with suppressed tears as the wearied
+company rose to its feet after the last line.</p>
+
+<p>"Here to-morrow at eleven sharp," were Mr. Rooney's words of dismissal
+as he and Fido followed the company in their hurried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> exit toward the
+stage-door, with not so much as a glance at the box in which sat the
+stricken author.</p>
+
+<p>And there alone, off the dismal and dismantled stage in the cool dusk of
+the box, producer and author faced each other and the situation.</p>
+
+<p>"If my grandfather were not&mdash;not&mdash;dying, I'd take it right home and burn
+it all up!" were the first words the author of "The Purple Slipper" gave
+utterance to, after the last echo of the last footstep had died off the
+stage.</p>
+
+<p>"You couldn't, you've sold it to&mdash;to me," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+coolness in his voice that restored her mental balance, as he had
+intended it should. "Now answer me truly; is it or is it not a good
+play?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's not my play; it's horrid and vulgar!" the author stormed, with
+lightning burning up the tears in her gray eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"That whole situation is exactly as you wrote it, and about a third of
+the lines are yours, or will be yours by the time it is at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> the first
+night, if you play the game. I have not decided whether I think it is a
+good play or not. If I think it isn't, you may have it and burn it up. I
+don't know what Rooney thinks yet. If he doesn't want to go on, I
+won't." Mr. Vandeford had known the women of many climes, and he found
+himself using that experience on Miss Adair with great skill, though it
+hurt him to do so.</p>
+
+<p>"Part of it I don't even understand," Miss Adair continued to storm, and
+Mr. Vandeford was about to discover that either a Blue-grass woman or
+horse, with the bit in their respective mouths, is mighty apt to go a
+pace before curbed. "What was that scene in the last act just before the
+dinner-party? She read so fast and he had his back to me, so I suppose
+that is the reason I didn't get it." Miss Adair was alluding to the
+scene whose vulgarity Mr. Vandeford had wished to sacrifice, but which
+Mr. Meyers had pleaded for on account of its extra dash of "pep" exactly
+suited to the Hawtry style.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You won't be able to judge the Hawtry scenes at all until the opening
+night," Mr. Vandeford answered, positively quaking in his boots for fear
+that Miss Adair would force him to an elucidation of the scene, which
+was mostly of the cleverest innuendo. "She is a miserable study, and she
+and Height rehearse the big scenes alone. She just walks through with
+the company. Truly, you can hardly judge anything of what a play will be
+from just a reading or from any rehearsal. Please trust me and help me
+as you promised you would."</p>
+
+<p>"But the play isn't mine, at all! My play is&mdash;is killed&mdash;and dead, and
+murdered." Miss Adair persisted, still writhing from the butchery.</p>
+
+<p>"It is your play; but granting that it isn't, at all, think what it will
+mean to all of us if this&mdash;this nobody's play succeeds. Think what it
+will mean to the actors in the company. Miss Lindsey was hungry when she
+got her first advance on your play, and B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne hasn't had a part
+that suited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> her so well in years. If it goes she ought to have enough
+to make her easy; and she is getting old now&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"If you'll say and tell everybody that the play isn't mine, of course
+I'll help you, and&mdash;" Miss Adair agreed, with the tears dried by the
+anger and a degree of sanity returning at Mr. Vandeford's skilful appeal
+to her generosity, which he made when he saw that his attempt to bluff
+her about calling off the play had failed. Mr. William Rooney came into
+the box. His hat was tilted on the back of his head and in the corner of
+his mouth was a large cigar, which he was chewing and not smoking. He
+seated himself without invitation and spoke with his usual abruptness:</p>
+
+<p>"That play is a hummer, Vandeford, if I can just make the dolts put it
+across. It is a genuine Hawtry vehicle, but in a new vein. It's a
+corking situation and yet rings true. Did any old dame really have the
+spunk to put that dinner-party across on both lover and husband that
+you've got in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> your play, miss?" As Mr. Rooney asked the question of
+Miss Adair, it was the first time that he had seemed aware of the
+existence of the author of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not my play, Mr. Rooney," Miss Adair said haughtily to the
+thick-skinned genius. "That&mdash;that situation is&mdash;was&mdash;is true, however."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it's your play all right!" declared Mr. Rooney. "The situation is
+all there is to any play. The staging is the rest. Anybody can put in
+good lines. Any simp can doll up the actors in costumes, and one actor
+can put the ideas across pretty near as good as any other, if he's
+directed all right; but when it's done, the play is the man's or woman's
+who made the first layout of the idea&mdash;and what the stage-manager does
+to it. Author and stage manager, I say. The rest is easy."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what I've been telling Miss Adair," Mr. Vandeford eagerly
+assented.</p>
+
+<p>"And authors ought to go off and die until the first night, too," Mr.
+Rooney con<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>tinued to say. "When I staged 'Only Annie' for E. and K., I
+told that author if he came on my stage any more at rehearsals I would
+biff him one in the nutt, and I meant it, too. His thinks and mine ran
+into each other so bad that I was near crazed."</p>
+
+<p>"But an author writes a play and he or she knows&mdash;" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say to Mr. Rooney with kind patience, when he interrupted
+her as he rose to take his departure.</p>
+
+<p>"The author oughter write all he knows and let it go at that," he said
+as he spat on the carpet of the box with no sign of compunction. "The
+stage-manager can do the rest." And with no form of leave-taking he
+departed.</p>
+
+<p>"And the American drama has to be filtered through that sort of&mdash;of
+illiteracy?" Miss Adair turned and demanded of Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"The American drama is often written by people who have been too closely
+associated with books on a library shelf, so that it needs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> to be
+filtered through a little gross humanity to get across to&mdash;humanity in
+the gross, which pays to see it. If a scholar writes and produces a play
+scholars go to see it all right, but all the scholars in America only
+fill one theater twice, and then what is to become of scholar and wife
+and children, as well as producer, manager, and theater-owner?" Mr.
+Vandeford spoke slowly, choosing his words.</p>
+
+<p>"Aren't any of the stage-managers educated gentlemen?" demanded Miss
+Adair, with an interest that was fast becoming impersonal, for she had
+the wit to see that in some ways Mr. Vandeford's summary of the
+situation between author and stage-manager was sound.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, a few, but not the most successful ones," answered Mr. Vandeford.
+"I tell you truly that a stage-manager has to be a genius to succeed. He
+must be a man with a vision and sheer brutality enough to put the vision
+that he gets from his conception of the play he is producing into
+twenty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> other mentalities and make them present the play as a harmonious
+whole to an audience. He cannot be a respecter of persons while he is
+pounding, and he must not be interfered with or his vision is obscured
+and the play loses. Do you see what I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Then an author ought to produce his own plays," Miss Adair decided very
+promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a whimsical smile down into the
+eager, pale, intensely creative face raised to his. "When an author is
+born who will study years until he is an expert electrician, other years
+in great studios until he can paint scenery that is a work of art, delve
+into old books until he knows costuming of thousands of periods in
+hundreds of lands and how to sketch it, then gives himself to the
+studying of stagecraft and the writing of half a hundred plays until he
+writes one that is really great; after which, if he has the strength and
+the nerves to produce that play, we will all go to see the great human
+drama. That is, if he has had time to live with and in the hearts of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+people so as to supply that gross sympathy with the masses who buy
+tickets which Rooney got while climbing out of the gutter. God grant he
+comes some day to America&mdash;but you are not he!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm not," admitted Miss Adair, with her eyes smiling back into his
+whimsically, "but what you say makes me see that the&mdash;the
+producer&mdash;<i>you</i> are the whole thing. You get it all&mdash;me and Mr. Rooney
+and Miss Hawtry together and pound us into&mdash;into a play. I make that
+acknowledgment."</p>
+
+<p>"If you ask the stage-manager he will say that the success of a play is
+his; the costumer will claim that success; the star knows it is his or
+hers, and the lead is sure that it is due to the support; the author
+surely has some claim to draw the huge royalties, and the location of
+his theater makes the theater-owner know that any play in that theater
+will go. Yes, the producer will always claim the whole show if it all
+goes well. If it fails the show then belongs entirely to the producer,
+who picked it in its manuscript<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> stage, and he is no good as a producer.
+If he fails a few times hand-running, to the scrap heap with him!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you've never failed," Miss Adair exclaimed, with a dart of fear in
+her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"My last show, 'Miss Cut-up,' was a flivver all right, though we just
+saved our faces. But I've got a show now that will put me in electric
+light for two years hand-running and&mdash;" Mr. Vandeford was in a panic as
+he realized that he was going so far in that curious thinking out loud
+to Miss Adair that he had been about to launch forth on "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" to her. It would have been like telling a friend the plans of his
+own funeral with enthusiasm, as it would be obvious to her that Hawtry
+would have to fail in and drop "The Purple Slipper" before becoming the
+triumphant "Rosie Posie Girl."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm willing to&mdash;to let them cut my play all up if&mdash;if it will really
+run two years and make your reputation more brilliant than it is," Miss
+Adair said, interrupting his pause<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> of consternation at his near
+betrayal of his plans. She spoke with the worshipful uplift of her gray
+eyes to his that had betrayed him in the first place to such a confusion
+of schemes. "If it added anything to it, I would even be willing to let
+you put the Adair name to the vulgar thing they read here to-day, but it
+wouldn't help it anywhere except in Louisville and Cincinnati and
+Nashville and Atlanta and New Orleans and Richmond. People don't know us
+in New York, and any name will do here; so mine won't&mdash;won't have to be
+disgraced."</p>
+
+<p>"Please don't say that!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford with consternation in his
+soul as he thought of the development of the Howard "pep" Hawtry would
+make as the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" progressed. "It is the
+same thing with Miss Hawtry as it is with Mr. Rooney; she has a&mdash;a kind
+of gutter drag that gets across to the multitude, and of course your
+play had to be&mdash;be fitted to her. Hawtry, to be Hawtry, has to do and
+say things that you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> couldn't write at all, that you couldn't very well
+understand; but they'll get the crowd going and coming. Please give me
+your promise again to sit tight and see it through&mdash;or go home and leave
+it all to me." Mr. Vandeford was surprised to feel how hard his heart
+beat, and he was afraid that it sounded like the echo of an anvil chorus
+in the big empty theater.</p>
+
+<p>"I never have to give promises a second time, and this is the last time
+I am ever going to cry out," Miss Adair answered him, with a lift to her
+proud little head. "I am going to stay right here and help if I can, and
+learn. But I won't in any way distress or&mdash;or trouble you. Please don't
+get me on your mind!"</p>
+
+<p>"I won't get you on my mind," Mr. Vandeford answered out loud&mdash;"because
+I've got you in my heart, poor kiddie," he continued to himself, in a
+kind of desperation.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Dennis Farraday burst in upon the dusk of the theater and the
+tragedy of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> situation. He was vastly excited and he waved a letter
+in his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, you Patricia Adair, why didn't you tell me that you are old Roger
+Adair's sister?" he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, what do you mean about Roger? Do you know&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Do I know him? Just listen to this, will you, and here I've <i>not</i> been
+handing you around on a silver salver for two weeks!" He then read the
+following letter aloud to Miss Adair and Mr. Vandeford:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+
+<p class="author">Adairville, Kentucky.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Dear Denny</span>:</p>
+
+<p>Well, here I am! I'm the Captain of my county in the Army of the
+Furrows, and hope to turn in many thousand pounds of food stuffs
+for you people in New York to live on. In the meantime Miss
+Patricia Adair, my sister, is going to New York to see to the
+putting on of a play she has written for one Mr. Godfrey Vandeford.
+She is the greatest girl ever, and you stay right on the job seeing
+that things go right for her while I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> plant these potatoes to keep
+you from starving. She will be at the Y. W. C. A. and will sleep
+and eat safe enough, but you look out for her and don't let her get
+homesick. If she needs me, of course I will come, but she's a
+plucky child and you are the best ever, so I'll go on ploughing
+with a free mind. Let me know how it all goes. What sort of a chap
+is that Vandeford?</p>
+
+<p class="author">
+Yours as always and forever,<br />
+<span class="smcap">Roger</span>.<br />
+</p></div>
+
+<p>"Can you beat it?" demanded good Dennis, with a blaze of friendship in
+his eyes as he regarded Miss Patricia Adair. "It was forwarded from my
+old office number to my new, to Westchester to Nantucket, back to my
+office, and finally arrived this morning. I've just sent Roger a
+thousand-word telegram, and I hope he never knows that I was off the job
+ten days. Give that child here to me, Van, and go get a report on your
+character for me before you look at her again. Roger Adair is the best
+friend I've got on earth, next to you, and you'd better watch your
+step."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I like his steps," Miss Adair said, and again Mr. Vandeford felt
+uncertain as to that curious little flutter that was like a nestling of
+which he felt he was never to be certain and which Mr. Farraday did not
+seem to observe at all.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you know that Roger was turning you over to me, young lady? Why
+have you side-stepped me?" Mr. Farraday demanded of the young author, in
+a voice of great severity.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought that Roger was going to write to a Mr. Denny about me; and I
+didn't write to him that Mr. Denny hadn't come to take care of me
+because&mdash;because I was afraid he'd leave his work and come up to look
+after me himself. I didn't remember the Farraday part of your name at
+all. Roger always said 'Denny.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I suppose I'll have to accept that excuse, as it sounds fairly
+reasonable; but I'd like to know, Van, why you have been keeping my
+child here in this musty old theater until past luncheon time when she
+must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> be both tired and hungry. Come out to Claremont to luncheon, both
+of you, this minute," Mr. Farraday both questioned and commanded, with
+pure delight in his voice and manner. "I'll go run the car around to the
+door, so you won't have to walk in the sun." And he departed as quickly
+as he had come.</p>
+
+<p>That night Mr. Vandeford lay stretched on his bed in a dark coolness,
+with his hands clasped over his eyes, when Mr. Farraday came in with his
+latch-key at twelve-thirty.</p>
+
+<p>"Denny?" he asked from the darkness as Mr. Farraday was tiptoeing past
+his open door, through which the southern sea-breeze was pouring, "'What
+sort of chap <i>is</i> that Vandeford?'"</p>
+
+<p>"The telegram I sent read, 'the best ever.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you competent to judge me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night!"</p>
+
+<p>For an hour before this masculine version of a scene a feminine real
+thing was being<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> conducted in the two little dotted-muslin-curtained
+cells at the Y. W. C. A. Miss Adair was telling Miss Lindsey "all about
+it," and sparks and tears both were in the atmosphere. The explosion was
+brought on by Miss Lindsey remarking to Miss Adair:</p>
+
+<p>"You know, honey lady, that play of yours is simply ripping, but it is
+not at all like&mdash;like what I thought it would be from hearing you and
+Mr. Farraday tell it."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not my play at all; it's Mr. Vandeford's. He got somebody to fit
+it to Miss Hawtry," replied Miss Adair, calmly, as she began to brush
+her dark, sleek mane.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Lindsey, in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>"He just took the dinner situation in my play and got a man to make a
+new one out of it that is&mdash;is vulgar enough to appeal to the New York
+theater-goers. He let everybody put in anything they wanted to, instead
+of what I wrote. He left in a little of mine to compliment me. It's all
+right,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> because nobody would have gone to see my play if anybody goes to
+see&mdash;see his." Miss Adair went on calmly with the fifty-third stroke on
+her raven tresses, but her eyes were beginning to blaze.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford's a complete fool," was on the tip of Miss Lindsey's
+tongue, but she remembered her main chance, which was the favor of Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, and said instead: "I wish you would let me see a copy
+of the play as you wrote it. Have you one?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have, in my trunk, and I'll read it to you," answered Miss Adair, and
+in defensive pride she produced a copy of "The Purple Slipper," which
+bore the unexpurgated title of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," and
+proceeded to read it to Miss Lindsey, with both fire and tragedy in her
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>The operation occupied the two hours before midnight, and Miss Lindsey
+lay prostrate when it was finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Now, what do you think?" demanded Miss Adair.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could have had the making of it over, and for myself instead
+of Hawtry. That's no play as it stands, but there is a dandy one to be
+worked up from it that you&mdash;you&mdash;that would be like you," was the reply
+that Miss Lindsey gave as she looked out into distance, with glowing
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think that&mdash;that horrid play will be a success?" asked Miss
+Adair, with her voice sparkling.</p>
+
+<p>"I do," answered Miss Lindsey. "And it is curious that with all its
+changes it is still&mdash;still yours. There is a lot more of your stuff left
+than you realize, and the turns that&mdash;that Mr. Vandeford's playwright
+has given it are very clever. Lots of times he's just paraphrased your
+lines into Hawtryites. It will be interesting to see how much of you is
+left when we all come out of the wash for the first night."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I were dead and buried!" she was surprised to hear Miss Adair
+confess, and there then ensued a downpour, which the hardier Western
+girl weathered for very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> love of the young Southern tempest in her arms.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose I ought to go home, out of the way, but I'm going to stay
+and&mdash;and learn&mdash;and write another one all by myself," she finally
+sobbed, with returning courage, thus comforting herself with the resolve
+which every playwright who ever built a play has used to keep from going
+entirely mad during the rehearsals of his first play.</p>
+
+<p>"Just try to live until the New York opening, and then see how you feel.
+That is the way actors do to keep going during the awful grilling of the
+rehearsals and the road try-out," advised Miss Lindsey, with great
+soothing.</p>
+
+<p>"I will," promised Miss Adair, and turned her face on her pillow, to
+sleep, while Miss Lindsey took herself and her jar of cold-cream into
+her own cell.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I had a chance at that play! What'll she do when she sees Hawtry
+and Height really in action in some of those scenes?" she murmured into
+her own pillow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The next morning Miss Adair rose, donned a most lovely home-spun linen
+gown, which was of an old ivory hue and which had been spun upon the
+looms of her great-great-great grandmother by that lady's slaves,
+crowned this toilet with the floppy hat covered with crushed roses she
+and Miss Lindsey and Mr. Farraday had purchased, and reported herself
+about an hour late at the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper," whose
+authorship she had repudiated. She seated herself in the dusk of the
+left stage-box and bared her breast for blows. They came fast and
+furious, but other breasts and heads beside her own suffered. Mr.
+William Rooney was in full action. The entire company was on the stage
+in the midst of the last ensemble bit in the first act, all talking and
+acting with blue booklets of lines in their hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Here you, Mr. Kent," roared Mr. Rooney as he rose from behind his
+table, at one side of which sat faithful Fido annotating his copy of the
+manuscript, "make up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> to that old lady like she was the last ham
+sandwich extinct and you knew you were going to be fed on alfalfa the
+rest of your life. Get her going, man, get her going! She's an old fool,
+and you know it, but you've got to have her plantation and slaves. You
+can keep a chorus-girl car in the garage if you just get her well
+fooled. Fool along, fool along!"</p>
+
+<p>"'I will write the message to your son, Madam Carrington, and dispatch
+it forthwith by one of my own black boys. Is my hand not ever ready for
+your service and my wit&mdash;and also my heart?'" declaimed Mr. Kent with
+satisfactory fervor, as he kissed Miss Herne's fat white hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Now blob, Miss Herne, blob!" directed Mr. Rooney, coming entirely from
+behind the table. "You are the fool of this show and don't let anybody
+get that away from you."</p>
+
+<p>"'I pray a blessing on your excellent friendship, Judge Cheneworth, and
+I will rest me content in&mdash;'" Miss Herne an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span>swered in a most excellent
+imitation of the helplessness of an old grand dame.</p>
+
+<p>"Break in there, Miss Lindsey, break in!" raved Mr. Rooney. "'Content
+in' is your cue. Grab it. Remember you are just the sister and only in
+the play to swell the list of actors on the program, so grab and keep
+a-grabbing if you want a place on the salary list. Now, everybody on at
+Miss Lindsey's lines and break up this drivel between the old birds."</p>
+
+<p>"'Mother, Rosalind bids me say to you that&mdash;'"</p>
+
+<p>"Crowd on everybody, crowd on, and keep things going! It will be nine
+o'clock by now, and we'll have to begin to feed the audience the hugging
+by a quarter to ten or they will go out and look elsewhere.&mdash;Say, Mr.
+Leigh, are your feet mates? You don't handle 'em even."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Adair rose and stole from the box to the stage-door, and looked up
+and down the street to see if Mr. Vandeford was approaching. She felt
+that she could not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> stand more alone. He was nowhere in sight, and she
+decided to walk around the block and see if the sun at ninety degrees
+would warm her chill. After this journey she returned to her post and
+found the box still empty. Mr. Vandeford had not arrived nor had Mr.
+Farraday, but she seated herself resolutely. She was just in time to
+witness a pitched battle between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Rooney.</p>
+
+<p>"If you are determined to walk through the scenes, Miss Hawtry, do it
+awake and not asleep!" stormed Mr. Rooney.</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," answered Miss Hawtry, but Miss Adair's heart warmed to her
+as she noted the contemptuousness in her manner directed toward her
+stage-manager.</p>
+
+<p>"Now see here, Height, you know that you want to get away with this
+woman before her husband gets back. You can't do it with kid gloves on.
+Spit on your hands, man, and grab her by the hair. You say: 'Rosalind, a
+strong man's love is a weapon which a woman can easily turn against
+her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>self with deadly outcome,' like you were begging her to go with you
+over to Ligget's for an ice-cream soda with crushed strawberries. Say it
+this way." And as she sat astounded Miss Adair heard a line that she had
+written in a sympathetic fervor of imagination and which was perhaps her
+favorite in the whole play, uttered by Mr. William Rooney with the most
+exquisite and manly feeling, while his homely, vulgar face and body were
+transformed into the same exquisiteness. A breathless happiness
+descended upon her, and she waited in it to hear the beautiful Mr.
+Gerald Height give utterance to it with the same art. Miss Hawtry
+brought her to earth.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rooney," she said with an utter lack of appreciation or
+comprehension of the bit of high art that had flashed upon her, "it is
+in my contract with Mr. Vandeford that I rehearse my scenes alone with
+my support until the dress rehearsal."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I might have judged that from 'Miss Cut-up,'" Mr. Rooney answered
+her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> with a blow straight from his shoulder. "Give little sister her
+cue, Height, and let her run on to rescue you. God knows you need it!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Rooney, I'll have you understand&mdash;" Miss Hawtry came to the center
+to continue her tirade, when Mr. Rooney struck the decisive blow.</p>
+
+<p>"Everybody on and begin the scene over!" he commanded right past the
+enraged star. "Take it up, Kent, with Miss Herne at 'I will write the
+message to your son,' and get her going, get her going!"</p>
+
+<p>At this forceful command the machinery of "The Purple Slipper" was set
+in motion, and swept Miss Hawtry off center and into her place for the
+time being.</p>
+
+<p>And despite herself Miss Adair was fascinated in watching the machine
+grind away, with now and then a spark from Mr. Rooney that took fire in
+the very core of her heart or brain or solar plexus&mdash;wherever "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind" had been conceived. Miss Adair did not know
+what it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> was that thus affected her, but she had got hold of her end of
+the psychic cord along which the author feeds the hostile stage-manager
+in such a manner that on the first night of a successful play they can
+say to each other with clasped hands and wet eyes, "Well done!"</p>
+
+<p>And while Miss Adair sat under the spell of Mr. Rooney, Mr. Vandeford
+sat in his big chair in his office and fought a battle for "The Purple
+Slipper" that resulted in a draw that filled him with anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"I can find only one open booking in New York for October first, Mr.
+Vandeford, sir," Mr. Meyers was saying, with trouble settled in a cloud
+upon his broad brow. "I have it fairly good for the road for 'The Purple
+Slipper' until October first, and then it is a jump to Toronto or
+Minneapolis, which is into the grave."</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose that one opening on Broadway is Weiner's New Carnival
+Theater," Mr. Vandeford asked as though the question were useless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You have it right," answered Mr. Meyers. "Still, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it
+is always failures that leave Broadway openings into which road shows
+can jump."</p>
+
+<p>"Until last year, yes, Pops, but now New York is so full of people with
+munition and war-contract money in their pockets that any show, no
+matter how rotten, that gets in a Broadway theater plays to capacity and
+stays. They'd go to 'The Old District Skule' because the doors were open
+and there is no other place to go. What are we going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>"I advise that you see Mr. Breit and trust to some very big failure to
+give you a place. It is that he will always give you a preference,"
+answered Mr. Meyers with little hope, but determination.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Breit will let me in if there is a squeezing chance, but Breit
+doesn't own a theater, nor do I, or you, Pops; and I don't blame the
+fellows who do own them for filling them with their own cheap companies
+and plays so as to get their buckets under<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> the whole golden stream. Why
+give money away to any independent producer?"</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Breit said that he had news that Mr. Weiner would open that New
+Carnival with a Hilliard show, name not given," Mr. Meyers added to the
+information already prepared for Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll see goose-grease frying out of him in Inferno before he gets it,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, coolly. "I know that is his game, but I'll put
+across this 'Purple Slipper' with Hawtry and keep my 'Rosie Posie Girl'
+until I get good and ready to let her play it. Then I'll produce it to
+the tune of a half-million dollars and not Mr. Weiner. I've never been
+squeezed, and I'm not going to have this rotten game beat me. I'll go
+over and see Breit and he'll jockey me a corner on Broadway, somehow.
+Back at three." And Mr. Vandeford walked out of his office as coolly as
+though not sizzling inwardly with anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>"I've got you next on the booking of about four-fifths of the theaters
+on Broad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>way, Van," said Mr. Breit, the booking king, as he and Mr.
+Vandeford smoked leisurely cigars in his big, cool office. "You should
+worry! E. and K. and S. and Z. are bound to pick some flivvers and in
+you go. Loaf on the road and lose money like a little man."</p>
+
+<p>"My contract expires with Hawtry if I don't present her on Broadway by
+September fifteenth."</p>
+
+<p>"That <i>is</i> a bit of a pickle! But she won't have any show to jump into,
+and she'll compromise with you; won't she?"</p>
+
+<p>"She'll have to," Mr. Vandeford declared. "Coming down to Atlantic City
+to see 'The Purple Slipper' open two weeks from Monday, September
+twenty-third?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be there. Rooney says it is a go; says little genius amateur wrote
+it and Grant Howard 'pepped' it. That right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. By!"</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, in the coolness and seclusion of the grill room of The
+Monks, Mr. Vandeford was imparting his predicament<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> to his partner in
+the venture and adventures of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"And you are worrying about whether Miss Hawtry will stay by us for the
+few weeks we'll have to loaf on the road or even close while waiting for
+the New York opening?" questioned Mr. Farraday. "Say, aren't you a bit
+unjust in your judgment of her, Van?"</p>
+
+<p>"I know the whole tribe of actors, and you don't, Denny," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, over a tall glass of iced tea he was drinking; he didn't know
+exactly why, but the habit had grown on him lately.</p>
+
+<p>"Then why not try to put her under contract for those few indefinite
+weeks?" suggested Mr. Farraday, over his cup of hot coffee.</p>
+
+<p>"You talk as though we were dealing with sane people," answered Mr.
+Vandeford. "She's got us and she'll keep us guessing up to the last
+minute, and then put some kind of screws on. I have got to figure out
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> likely ones, to see what I can do to jam them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, ask her. I think she'll stand by us. I know she will,"
+said Mr. Farraday, with both faith and conviction in his voice. "You do
+her an injustice, I say!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to make her any request or offer, Denny. I can't," said
+Mr. Vandeford, as he looked at the ice floating in his glass of tea.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," assented Mr. Farraday, with pained sympathy in his big
+voice. "Would you like me to sound her out?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's half your show; go ahead. She probably knows the situation and has
+made her plans for the squeeze or double-cross, but you might try her
+out," consented Mr. Vandeford, with a shrewd glance at Mr. Farraday.
+"But I wish you wouldn't, Denny," he added, with a sudden glow of
+affection in his eyes. Then he was restrained from further remonstrance
+with Mr. Farraday by the thought of the author of "The Purple Slipper"
+and her plucky sticking by the play<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> through the thick and thin of her
+disapproval of it. Again he offered up his big Jonathan as a sacrifice
+in hopes of improving the prospects of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Farraday took Miss Hawtry into his confidence about the predicament
+of finding a New York theater for his play, "The Purple Slipper," that
+very evening, out on the veranda of the Beach Inn, where he had motored
+her by request for dinner after her fatiguing rehearsals, which she had
+made still more fatiguing for Mr. William Rooney.</p>
+
+<p>"And Van sent you to ask me if I was going to stick by?" she asked, with
+an effective quaver in her voice.</p>
+
+<p>"He felt that we had no right to&mdash;to tie you up for indefinite weeks,"
+said Mr. Farraday, constructing and temporizing at the same time.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you think as little of me as he did?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, by George, I knew you'd stick by us, and I said so!" Mr. Farraday
+exploded with genuine emotion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Thank you. You know me after these few weeks better than he does after
+all these years of&mdash;" And the Violet bent her head on Mr. Farraday's
+nearest arm and began to weep softly. They were in a secluded corner of
+the veranda of the Inn, and the Violet raged at herself for having
+closed the complete seclusion of Highcliff for herself and her purposes
+by renting it to the Trevors when she had gone to town to the rehearsals
+of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>And as good Dennis Farraday had no valid reason, either within or
+without the law for not doing so, he put consoling and comforting arms
+about her, and exposed his wide, silk-garbed shoulder to the rain of her
+tears, which were not really raining. In his big heart there was the
+same comforting for this conspirator as there would have been for Mr.
+Vandeford's lawful widow, and he administered it with the same
+affectionate respect that he would have used to the relict.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a dear, wonderful little woman!" he was saying, when the voice
+of the Clyde<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> Trevors was heard calling to them from around the veranda,
+and an oath rose in the Violet with such force that she almost allowed
+it to explode. Still she felt sure of her ultimate results.</p>
+
+<p>"You can count on me to stand by you and the play forever," she
+promised, and the hurried pressure of their lips in the soft, dark,
+sea-perfumed air was biologically inevitable.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had woven a tangled web when he had let fall the
+purple letter on the purple manuscript and gone out recklessly to follow
+the hunch their juxtaposition implied.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+
+<p>The first two weeks of September spent in torrid New York were a strange
+period of time to have projected itself into the calm life of Miss
+Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Suddenly she found herself a cog
+screwed tight into a rapid-fire piece of machinery that was running at
+top speed night and day, by name, "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>For long hours she sat in the coolness of that stage-box and held her
+breath while she threw her whole self into the building of the play,
+which so fascinatingly was and was not hers. And through all those
+hours, close at her side, between her and the big dim theater, sat Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with his arm across the back of her chair and his
+eager face close to hers and tilted at the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> angle. Her slightest
+murmur or his lowest whisper caught and was answered, and they almost
+seemed to be breathing one breath, so absorbed were they in the destiny
+of their mutual adventure. Like all women of her kind, Patricia Adair
+had known men only through a cloud, which sex traditions had firmly held
+between her and them, and Godfrey Vandeford was the first man she had
+encountered since she had slipped outside of its deadening density into
+a world where men and women endeavored together first, and left their
+sentinel undertakings to a fitting secondary time and place. In all
+sincerity she accepted him as a co-worker and was as happy working with
+him as it was possible for a woman to be. She specially liked being
+beside him in the office, and watched him settle the details of the
+running the big machine smoothly, from the hiring of the property-man to
+the firing of three successive stage-carpenters.</p>
+
+<p>"Real eats, Mr. Vandeford?" the former had inquired one morning.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Brown-bread turkey, nice and tasty, good crackers, but soda-pop and so
+forth for booze. Remember, they've got to face it, we hope, many weeks;
+don't turn their stomachs so they'll all gag."</p>
+
+<p>"I see, sir, I see. I fed 'Maple Leaves' for two years, and they all et
+every night and gimme a purse when it closed to go to London."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!"</p>
+
+<p>"Brown-bread turkey sounds nice. I'm hungry," said Miss Adair, as the
+good-providing property-man departed.</p>
+
+<p>"Pop is going to bring us a piece of pie and a bottle of milk from the
+automat," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he began putting busy stabs with
+the press pencil on a pile of papers. "I ought to send him to get Denny
+to motor you for a real feed in the cool somewhere, but I want you
+here." With perfect unconcern, he went on checking the list the
+property-man had left him. He had ceased trying to decide the meaning of
+the flutter which he was not sure Miss Adair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> really gave when she was
+pleased. He was too busy to think about anything but the rush and roar
+of the machinery of "The Purple Slipper," so he just kept Miss Adair so
+near him for all the waking hours of the day that he could have no
+occasion to have his thoughts distracted by worrying over just what
+might be befalling her. Day after day he extracted her from the Y. W. C.
+A. at ten o'clock <span class="smcap">a. m.</span>, fed her and Miss Lindsey coffee and rolls and
+berries just any place that they happened to see (often he even ate with
+the two girls in the big empty cafeteria at the institution), lunched
+with her in the same haphazard fashion, sought a cool and quiet spot to
+give her dinner, and a ride on a country road, turned her into the big
+safety at about eleven o'clock, and went to bed to sleep the sleep of
+the interestedly absorbed.</p>
+
+<p>The few evenings that Miss Adair spent with Mr. Gerald Height Mr.
+Vandeford did not find repose so early or with such ease. Also, his
+awakening on those mornings after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> was not so joyous, and he arrived at
+the Y. W. C. A. fifteen and twenty minutes too early upon each occasion.</p>
+
+<p>However, his time was well spent in chatting with the brisk young
+secretary, and his anxiety was entirely relieved each time by finding
+the look intact in the gray eyes raised to his in eager greeting after
+the prolonged absence of fourteen hours, when the usual separation was
+about ten.</p>
+
+<p>"We went out to a place called the Beach Inn last night, and whom do you
+suppose we saw there?" she demanded on one of the mornings after, over
+her bowl of halved peaches.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Devil?" he asked, with a sparkle breaking through the
+frown with which he had instantly greeted her mention of that gay beach
+resort.</p>
+
+<p>"No; Miss Hawtry and Mr. Farraday. She wasn't nice to us at all, but Mr.
+Height says she always treats him badly when they are rehearsing
+together. I think Mr. Height is perfectly wonderful to her on the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span>
+stage. He's so gentle and kind; but then he's that in real life, isn't
+he?"</p>
+
+<p>"Is he?" growled Mr. Vandeford over his corn-flakes.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and he's so just and fine in the way he speaks about everybody. He
+told me how poor Miss Hawtry used to be and how you pushed her along
+until she could buy that lovely house we passed, in which the Trevors
+are staying while she is in town. It is hard on you, too, not to be out
+there boarding with them and her instead of in this heat."</p>
+
+<p>"Did Height say that I&mdash;I boarded&mdash;out there?" demanded Mr. Vandeford,
+pushing his coffee-cup away from him with a sudden snap.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, he said you stayed out there in the summer always, and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"We're late," interrupted Mr. Vandeford, snapping his watch with the
+same temper he had used on his coffee-cup. "Bring that saucer of peaches
+along and eat it in the car."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll take an orange instead," assented Miss Adair, as with all
+good-nature and in all naturalness she deserted the last half of the
+rosy peach, took an orange from the bowl before her and stood up to go
+out to the car, which Valentine had parked in the shadow of the building
+opposite.</p>
+
+<p>"You kid, you!" scoffed Mr. Vandeford, with an ache in his heart, but
+thanksgiving for that same youthful unsophistication. "Height or
+somebody will get it all across to her, and then what'll I do?" he
+growled to himself as he followed her into the car.</p>
+
+<p>"And I saw that Mazie&mdash;Mazie woman there, too, with a terrible-looking
+man that has written ever so many plays that are successful." Mr.
+Vandeford was devoutly thankful that Mr. Grant Howard's name had not
+stuck in the consciousness of the author of "The Purple Slipper." "I&mdash;I
+was introduced to them too&mdash;because you know you said that I must&mdash;must
+accept broad standards, and I did&mdash;last night." Miss Adair looked away,
+but Mr. Vande<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>ford could see that her little ears, set close against her
+small head, with their tips covered by a smooth band of hair, grew rosy.</p>
+
+<p>"What?" he gasped, uncertain as to what she meant.</p>
+
+<p>"Talked to that&mdash;that playwright and&mdash;and drank some champagne. I like
+cider better, but Mr. Height ordered it, and I thought&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here the car stopped, and Valentine was at the door. Valentine never
+failed to be at the door instantly when Miss Adair was in Mr.
+Vandeford's car, because his French soul rejoiced within him for thus
+serving a grand dame.</p>
+
+<p>"Rooney is on the last lap of the last act, and then he'll begin to
+polish the whole for dress rehearsals," Mr. Vandeford said as he held
+the curtains of their box aside for her to enter.</p>
+
+<p>"And Mr. Height told me, too, that the Trevors had&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, becoming the stern producer, because he
+felt<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> that he could stand no more of Mr. Height at the Beach Inn, though
+he began to listen intently to that same gentleman and B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne in the
+beginning of the great scene of the now authorless play. The anxieties
+passed from him, and in a moment he was in harness again with his author
+and running in perfect unison.</p>
+
+<p>"Cut it off, Height, cut it off!" commanded Mr. Rooney, and he ran his
+hands into his shock of black hair, which stood up all over his head
+like a black, sooty mop. "That scene needs something. It isn't big and
+simple enough. What did she say to him in your first layout, miss?" he
+demanded of Miss Adair, for the first time acknowledging to the company
+the presence of the author of their play at the rehearsals. "Can you
+remember?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the home-made color blazing in her
+cheeks and fires in her gray eyes as she rose in the box, and gave the
+six lines as she had written them. Her lovely, slurring, Blue-grass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
+voice made the whole company smile with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it! That's it! That's real people jawing and not a lot of smarty
+guff. Put that in, Fido, and write it in, Miss Herne," commanded Mr.
+Rooney, without any form of thanks to the accommodating and forgiving
+author.</p>
+
+<p>And truth to say the author of "The Purple Slipper" did not notice his
+omission. She was in such joy at having something of the "big scene"
+express what she had intended that she was clasping one of Mr.
+Vandeford's hands in both hers and holding on tight to keep from
+shedding tears of joy.</p>
+
+<p>"What did I tell you?" he asked, taking the two nervously clutched
+little hands into his warm, strong ones, unseen in the shadow of the
+box. "You keep getting things across to Bill by letting him ask you for
+what he wants. See?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and I'm always glad when I do as you tell me," she whispered, with
+her lips almost against his ear as they both turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> back to the stage
+and watched their machine begin to run on greased wheels. Mr. Vandeford
+thought of the Beach Inn, Mazie, the bottle of champagne, and Mr. Gerald
+Height, and groaned inwardly.</p>
+
+<p>The last week of the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" was a hectic
+rush, the like of which Miss Adair had never imagined. She had gone out
+again for the week-end to Mrs. Farraday's, up in Westchester, and this
+time Mr. Vandeford drove out on Sunday for tea and crape myrtle with Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, and, he was surprised to note again, Miss Mildred
+Lindsey. The day passed like an oasis in the midst of a desert storm,
+and Mr. Vandeford had the pleasure of making all arrangements for Mrs.
+Farraday, Mr. and Mrs. Van Tyne, and several other old Manhattaners, who
+had fallen under the spell of the young Kentuckian who had in an off
+moment perpetrated "The Purple Slipper," to go to Atlantic City the
+following week to be upon the spot for the opening of the play. Suites
+in the great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> new hotel were engaged by long-distance telephone,
+time-tables discussed, and trains settled upon by the time tea was over
+and the golden sun had let the twilight purple the rosy plumes of the
+huge myrtle hedges. In the dusk Valentine brought Mr. Vandeford's car
+from the garage and Mrs. Farraday's chauffeur drove out Mr. Dennis
+Farraday's beloved Surreness. Miss Lindsey said her farewell, and it
+again surprised Mr. Vandeford to see the gracious kiss Mrs. Farraday put
+upon the dusky red of the beautiful Western girl's cheek, while good
+Dennis stood smilingly by in the friendliest delight. Then a wistful
+sigh from the talented young author by his side claimed his instant
+attention.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" he asked, with no attempt to control the tenderness in his
+voice, though the dusk hid that in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to go back to town with you," she answered him, with a little
+catch in her voice. "I feel so far away from you and&mdash;and IT, up here."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You shall," he answered, and turned toward Mrs. Farraday, who was
+coming across the grass towards them with a huge sheaf of myrtles for
+his car flower-baskets in her arms. "I wonder if you'll let me take my
+author back to town in a hurry to-night, Mater Farraday," he pleaded,
+with the affectionate smile in both his voice and eyes that he had
+learned to use in coaxing her since the days ten years ago when she had
+begun to mother him along with big Dennis. "I&mdash;I sorter&mdash;sorter need
+her."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Farraday looked at them both with a keenness under the affection in
+her glance, and then laughed merrily.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, go with him, Patricia," she commanded. "I have lived through the
+week before the presentation of five plays for Van, and I think that it
+is only just that you should share that ordeal with me. He's impossible,
+and demands&mdash;everything. I gave him a perfectly new and wonderful hat
+that cost a hundred and ten dollars for the second scene of 'Dear
+Geraldine' right off<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> my head at the dress rehearsal, and 'Miss Cut-up'
+did her dances on one of my most choice Chinese rugs. Now he's taking
+you from me. But go!"</p>
+
+<p>"Here's your wrap, still in the car, so hop in," commanded Mr. Vandeford
+hurriedly, as though he feared that Mrs. Farraday would withdraw her
+sympathetic permission. "Good-night, and thank you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Good-night, you two&mdash;two dear children," returned Mrs. Farraday, as she
+saw them off, after tenderly embracing Miss Adair and making plans for
+their future meeting. "How <i>lovely</i> it would be!" she murmured to
+herself, with a lack of definition, as she went back to the stately
+house behind the tree, where windows were beginning to glow.</p>
+
+<p>For a long time the producer and his author were silent.</p>
+
+<p>"I hate it&mdash;and I love it," Miss Adair finally said, with her soft,
+slurring voice lowered almost to a whisper as Valentine sped them along
+the country road perfumed and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> dusky with the early night, though a
+silvery radiance proclaimed a chaperoning moon as imminent.</p>
+
+<p>"That is the proper way for an author to feel about a play one week
+before the opening," Mr. Vandeford assured her, with a laugh keyed to
+match her declaration. "It shows an entire sympathy with the poor
+producer."</p>
+
+<p>"Suppose, just suppose, that the producer had been anybody but you and I
+had had to stand all&mdash;" Words failed Miss Adair in imaging her plight as
+author to another producer than Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"Any other producer might have done better than I have done for you,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered her, with a sadness in his voice that he himself
+had never heard before. And as he spoke he resolved to tell her the
+whole Hawtry situation, which was haunting him day and night; to begin
+with the purple, letter-manuscript hunch, which he had lightly taken up
+to spank Miss Hawtry for trying to double-cross him with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> Weiner about
+"The Rosie Posie Girl," and end up with the hopeless state of his
+feelings about herself. Miss Adair herself stemmed the confession which
+might have altered the fate of that good machine "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"You've made the whole horrible experience worth while to me, and I'm
+going to be a great playwright yet, just to make you&mdash;you proud of me,"
+she assured his sadness in the purple dusk, and this time Mr. Vandeford
+was so sure of the flutter that he reached out his hand and captured a
+part of it, a white, slim little hand that nestled into his as though it
+were not in any way aware of doing so. "I'm going to dinner with Miss
+Herne to-morrow night, so Mr. Kent can show me what is the matter with
+part of his costume for the third act, and then I'm going to coax Mr.
+Corbett to fix it over for him," she continued, speaking of the business
+of learning to be the great playwright she had promised him to become.</p>
+
+<p>"Er&mdash;er, did you say dinner with B&eacute;b&eacute;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> and&mdash;and Kent?" Mr. Vandeford
+stammered as a desperate opening for letting his author know just what
+she was doing in visiting that establishment without-the-law.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I know about them; Mildred told me, but I told her that I was
+going to accept the 'broad standard' that prevailed in my profession. I
+like both of those people a lot. What business is it of mine if they
+don't want to get married?" Miss Adair's voice was coolly unconcerned
+and professional.</p>
+
+<p>"Help!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, holding the slim little hand as if
+drowning. And indeed he did have a sinking sensation, which, strange to
+say, was relieved by a quick mental vision of the capable young woman at
+the desk of the great international safety.</p>
+
+<p>"And I know about Mr. Height's three divorces, and I think he is to be
+pitied instead of criticized for being so unfortunate and lonely.
+Mildred says she doesn't believe he is as lonely as he tells me he is,
+but I know he is. I asked Miss Herne to ask<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> him to dinner, too, and she
+did," Miss Adair continued, thus making little stabs into Mr.
+Vandeford's vitals.</p>
+
+<p>And right there Mr. Vandeford paid the entire penalty for all his tilts
+against organized morality by feeling unworthy to take a beautiful,
+fragrant, adoring, confiding girl in his arms and telling her all he had
+learned of the tragic results of such tilts. His predicament was tragic,
+though unique. If he summed up these others, he sized up himself to her,
+and by what judgment he taught her to judge them she would judge him
+when the time came. If he taught her to turn from Kent or Height she
+would turn from him, when she knew him entirely, as she surely would
+soon. And, forsooth, how would he prove to her that he was a better man
+than the copper-headed tango lizard, Height, though he knew himself to
+be? And who was this girl, anyway, to come out of a little back-woods
+town where the standards of life were so narrow that all who could lived
+out of them in degrading secrecy, and make him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> feel himself unworthy
+when he had lived openly in a way about which his own conscience had not
+troubled him? Why did he hesitate to tell her about his affair with the
+Violet and his anxiety about her contract, and why should his face burn
+at the thought of telling her how he had coolly let his best friend in
+for the prospect of an affair with the star for the purpose of
+protecting her and her play? And why should the sex and business
+standards of his world be entirely different from those of hers or any
+other world! On the other hand why shouldn't they all double-cross and
+prey on and defame and applaud each other to their heart's content? Why
+should they care if they were judged by&mdash;? At this part Mr. Vandeford's
+bitter reflections were suddenly invaded by a perceptible collapse of
+Miss Adair's soft and proud young body against his, and a round, warm
+cheek fell against his silk-clad sleeve, as he perceived that his
+eminent author had plunged suddenly into the depths of healthy and
+innocent slumber,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> while he had been moralizing about her and the rest
+of the universe. He slipped his arm about her with cautious tenderness
+and made her comfortable, while he muttered to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"She's a white flame and, God willing, I'm going to keep her that!"</p>
+
+<p>During the next week the "white flame" burned high and bright while the
+author of "The Purple Slipper" threw herself into her place in the
+grinding of the machine that was to turn out a perfected play on the
+following Tuesday night at Atlantic City. Everywhere Mr. Rooney was
+tightening bolts and polishing surfaces until they glistened while he
+snapped and tried out all bands.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Lindsey was pale and quiet, but she acted her part to Mr. Rooney's
+entire satisfaction, though he never said so. Mr. Leigh's feet were
+still a target, and the glowering girl, Miss Grayson, was always
+tearful, but constantly improving. When the company was not being ground
+and polished,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> Mr. Corbett's tailors and dressmakers were fitting
+costumes, and the property man was checking over and over each demand of
+each and every person, from the fresh rose Mr. Kent was to give to Dame
+Carrington to the mud that was to be splashed every day upon Mr. Gerald
+Height's riding-boots for his last and triumphant entry. Miss Adair had
+lost all sense of the play as a whole and only thought of it as
+distracting and distracted bits. She had, of course, never witnessed the
+scenes between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Height, as they were still rehearsed
+in private and would be until the night of the dress rehearsal on Monday
+at Atlantic City. This was well.</p>
+
+<p>But one thing she kept with her through the whole strain; the sense of
+being one with Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and that one working for pure joy.</p>
+
+<p>As for Mr. Vandeford, his eyes sank back under his brows, and Mr. Adolph
+Meyers was with him far into every night.</p>
+
+<p>"How does the booking stand now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> Pops?" Mr. Vandeford demanded on the
+Thursday night before the opening Tuesday.</p>
+
+<p>"Atlantic City next week, Wilmington and New Haven the next if need be,
+and&mdash;it is to Syracuse or Toronto we must jump, Mr. Vandeford, sir,"
+answered Mr. Meyers, with beads of perspiration on his high brow.</p>
+
+<p>"Violet will never make that jump, Pops. Her contract closes the day we
+open in Atlantic City, and there we'll close, too, if we haven't New
+York right in sight. What'll we do?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is many a show closed before it opened," Mr. Meyers said, with a
+wary look at Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"This show is going to open and never close&mdash;until it's had a thorough
+Broadway try-out, Pops," said Mr. Vandeford, quietly. "Anything from Mr.
+Breit?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing to hope for a Broadway opening before November first."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll pass the question up Friday, and then see what I'll do," Mr.
+Vandeford said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> slowly as if turning his back for the moment to
+something that stared him in the face.</p>
+
+<p>All Friday morning he worked with "The Purple Slipper" machine with a
+bitter defiance in his eyes that made Miss Adair keep close to his side,
+though she didn't understand her reason for doing so.</p>
+
+<p>"Is anything the matter?" she questioned, with her gray eyes stricken
+with alarm. The fear for her play in those gray eyes sent Mr. Vandeford
+into desperate measures. He asked Miss Hawtry to go to luncheon with
+him, and she graciously accepted.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do we get in on Broadway after Atlantic City, Van?" she asked as
+soon as she was served with her iced melon.</p>
+
+<p>"We get in all right," he parried, putting his spoon into his
+cantaloupe.</p>
+
+<p>"That's fine. I don't mind that Atlantic City week, but I'm glad I'm
+past ever doing the road again except to the Coast. They'll eat up 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' in Chicago and San Francisco." Miss Hawtry was
+deliberately declaring her intentions to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> Mr. Vandeford without saying a
+word about them.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to take 'The Purple Slipper' over to London before I take it
+West." Mr. Vandeford answered her declaration with another not put in
+words, but so well did he know the workings of her shrewd, small mind
+that he saw that the game was up unless he did what he must do. During
+the rest of their luncheon they talked about the Trevors.</p>
+
+<p>Straight from the Astor Mr. Vandeford walked into the office of Mr.
+Weiner.</p>
+
+<p>"Weiner," he asked, without any sort of preamble, "will you give a
+month's
+<a name="corr22" id="corr22"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn22" title="changed from 'tryout'">try-out</a>
+of my play, 'The Purple Slipper,' in your New Carnival
+Theater from October first to November first, with a proper guarantee,
+and then an option on an unlimited run there if it makes good, for a
+half-interest in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' <i>without</i> Hawtry?" Mr. Vandeford
+knew that he was offering Mr. Weiner a good thing, for the rights of
+"The Rosie Posie Girl" had been hotly contested<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> by all the big
+theatrical managers on Broadway the winter before, and Mr. Vandeford had
+got them from Hilliard because of his success with "Dear Geraldine" by
+the same author. They had all coveted it because it was one of those
+combinations about the success of which there could be no doubt. In
+offering Weiner a half-interest Mr. Vandeford was aware that he was
+offering him at least a hundred thousand dollars, but Mr. Vandeford's
+hunch about the purple on purple was beginning to cost him dear, though
+at least a hundred thousand dollars did not seem too much to pay to keep
+the agony of failure out of a pair of sea-gray eyes that had trusted him
+the first time they had looked into his.</p>
+
+<p>"With Hawtry it goes; without Hawtry, no, Mr. Vandeford," was the prompt
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"With Hawtry six months from now?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"It is that I have a weak heart, Mr. Vandeford, and I do not trade in
+futures," an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span>swered Mr. Weiner, with a spark in his black eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You know my fix, Weiner; now what will you take for the New Carnival
+October first for my Hawtry show?"</p>
+
+<p>"I will trade that entire 'Rosie Posie Girl' manuscript, with all rights
+for that New Carnival Theater on October first, with option for the
+entire season, Mr. Vandeford," said Mr. Weiner, rolling his big cigar
+from one side of his mouth to the other.</p>
+
+<p>"Without Hawtry?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have a new Hawtry right now&mdash;in pickle," Mr. Weiner answered.</p>
+
+<p>"Will the New Carnival certainly be finished October first?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, to a certainty of a large guarantee."</p>
+
+<p>"How long will you give me to answer?" asked Mr. Vandeford.</p>
+
+<p>"I have made an appointment with S. &amp; K. to talk that New Carnival
+Theater for a show at five o'clock to-day, Mr. Vandeford. I will call it
+six o'clock for you," answered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> Weiner, as he turned the screw with all
+show of consideration for his fellow producer.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back at four-forty-five," Mr. Vandeford answered him, and with
+no further good-by took his departure.</p>
+
+<p>Arriving at his office, Mr. Vandeford directed Mr. Meyers that he was to
+have half an hour entirely undisturbed, entered his own office, and
+after a second's pause went into the little office that had been
+assigned to Miss Adair, the author, and sat down in the chair she very
+seldom occupied, but which was hers by tenancy. On the desk were a pair
+of silk gloves she had left there the day before, and in a blue vase
+were several roses in a good state of preservation, which he recognized
+as having come from a bunch Miss Adair had been wearing after having had
+luncheon with Mr. Gerald Height on Monday. These objects disturbed Mr.
+Vandeford vaguely. He put them out of his mind roughly and went into
+conference with himself sternly. Literally he was weighing the
+question.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On one side of the balance he laid "The Rosie Posie Girl," which, with
+Hawtry, was sure to run on Broadway for at least two seasons and make
+for him a fortune that was indefinitely large and sure. Beside this, its
+production would insure him a position among the country's really great
+producers. The show was big enough in conception to admit of a
+spectacularly artistic treatment, which he had intended to give it so
+that it would place musical comedy on a plane upon which it had never
+stood before. He knew himself well enough to know that a real triumph of
+that kind once accomplished, he would want to turn to other fields of
+endeavor, and he could see his greater self standing patiently waiting
+for his lesser to be liberated by the process of climbing out of the
+very top of the theatrical profession.</p>
+
+<p>Sternly he turned from himself to the filling of the other pan of the
+scales in which he was weighing the question. He looked for something to
+put in to over-balance the certainty of "The Rosie Posie Girl," and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span>
+found nothing but a vast uncertainty with many potentialities. "The
+Purple Slipper" was a play of no known classification, and with Hawtry
+in it was still less fish, flesh, fowl, or good red herring. And there
+was added the uncertainty of that week from the twenty-third to the
+first during which he had no legal hold on the fair Violet. He felt
+reasonably sure that the announcement that "The Purple Slipper" would
+open the big new Weiner theater, with all the clash of publicity which
+he could give to it, would hold her steady on her job, but as he laid it
+down on the scales, it had to be classed as an uncertainty. The fifteen
+per cent. seat sales based on Mr. Gerald Height's appearance in silk
+tights, velvet, and lace was about the only positive he had to lay in
+the scales, and that, of course, failed to tip them to any degree. For
+about fifteen minutes he sat perfectly rigid. Then he gently laid on the
+uncertain side of the scales the positive and concrete faith in a pair
+of sea-gray eyes, jeweled with tears, and watched "The Rosie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> Posie
+Girl" rise high as "The Purple Slipper" sank down heavily.</p>
+
+<p>After this he took a rose from the green vase, stuck it in his
+buttonhole, and went forth&mdash;into his own office. He there rang his
+buzzer for Mr. Meyers, and seated himself with the air of a man who has
+had a burden lifted off his shoulders rather than with the air of one
+about to give away half a million dollars.</p>
+
+<p>"Pops, 'The Rosie Posie Girl' is sold, lock, stock, and barrel, to
+Weiner for a month's try-out of 'The Purple Slipper' at the New Carnival
+Theater, good guarantee for that month, and an option on a run to the
+limit for eight-thousand-a-week houses. Get Lusky over the 'phone, and
+you and he have the contracts drawn as tight as wax by four-thirty."</p>
+
+<p>"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I must have a say that&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No, Pops, don't say anything."</p>
+
+<p>"With a pardon it is that I think that Miss Adair is a very fine lady,
+and so also<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> 'The Purple Slipper.'" With this incoherent pronouncement
+of sympathy and encouragement, though devastated at the loss of "The
+Rosie Posie Girl," upon which he had already spent many creative days,
+Mr. Meyers departed into the outer office.</p>
+
+<p>For a long minute Mr. Vandeford glared at the unoffending rose in his
+buttonhole, then smiled, ran his hands through his hair, turned to the
+telephone, and plunged into the last lap of the race of "The Purple
+Slipper." Until four o'clock he was closeted with the most brilliant
+theatrical publicity man in New York City; then he took his contracts
+and went over to Weiner's office and sacrificed "The Rosie Posie Girl"
+to&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>An hour later he had told his partner, Mr. Dennis Farraday, all about
+it, and showed him the deeds of execution.</p>
+
+<p>"You ought not to have done it, Van. It was too big a price to pay," Mr.
+Farraday declared, with his mane rumpled on high.</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Mr. Vandeford, in happy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> calmness. "'The Purple Slipper'
+will pay it all out&mdash;one way or another."</p>
+
+<p>"It must," declared Mr. Farraday, with helpless energy. "What can I do?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, be the usual ray of sunshine around the place and&mdash;and keep the
+Violet happy and busy until we land on Broadway." Mr. Vandeford said
+this with a coldness in tone and voice that he had to force hard. His
+attitude was that he had had to sacrifice himself so why not sacrifice
+Mr. Farraday also? And he hated himself for that attitude.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand, and you can count on me," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+such an innocently happy face that Mr. Vandeford groaned inwardly at the
+fact that he did not understand, and would surely be made to soon if his
+calculations on the intentions of Miss Hawtry were correct.</p>
+
+<p>"I've arranged for a chair-car to take the whole company down to
+Atlantic City Sunday morning, so the whole bunch can have a plunge and a
+good rest-up before the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> Monday dress rehearsal." Mr. Farraday produced
+that piece of business with great pride.</p>
+
+<p>"Good!" was all the commendation that he got, and he betook himself off
+for other good-natured efforts on the affairs of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>Though at times Mr. Godfrey Vandeford approached the heroic in action,
+he was very human in reflexes and, having paid a price for the happiness
+of Miss Patricia Adair, he proceeded to partake of as much of that
+happiness as he could get hold of. He captured the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" after the rehearsals on Friday, which were the last before the
+dress rehearsal in Atlantic City on Monday night, because the cast of a
+play are, after all, so many human beings, who have to be given at least
+a day for such animal functions as packing trunks, closing apartments,
+dodging creditors, and severing home ties, and he carried her off to the
+country with the intention of having her all to himself for dinner at a
+little inn up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> Westchester way. After they had started in that direction
+and were flying behind Valentine along sun-gilded country lanes, he
+changed his mind, changed the road slightly, and had them landed under
+the wing of Mrs. Farraday for dinner. He did this with direct intention.
+He judged himself, and decided that it would be safest to announce to
+Miss Adair that her play was to have the honor of opening the great New
+Carnival Theatre on Broadway somewhere within two hundred yards of Mrs.
+Farraday. This program he carried out with efficient directness and then
+found a strange lacking in himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how wonderful you are!" was Miss Adair's exclamation when he had
+imparted his news just as a young moon was silvering the poplar under
+which they sat on an old stone bench at the bottom of the sunken garden.
+"Everybody has said that you couldn't do it, but I didn't worry at all
+like the rest of them. I knew that you could."</p>
+
+<p>"How did you know that I could do it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> he asked, and he rejoiced with
+pride that his author did not yet know of either the existence or his
+sacrifice of "The Rosie Posie Girl."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I don't know&mdash;I knew just because I&mdash;I&mdash;" For the first time Mr.
+Vandeford was absolutely certain of the flutter towards him, and at the
+same time felt certain that he was the first man who ever had been
+certain of it; and just as his breast and arms were hollowing themselves
+to nest it he&mdash;denied it and himself. He didn't want it at a purchase
+price, and he took Miss Adair home and locked her in the Y. W. C. A.
+before midnight.</p>
+
+<p>The journey down to Atlantic City on Sunday morning was accomplished
+with much joy and hilarity. The entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+acted like boys and girls let out of school, and mischievous children at
+that. Miss Adair enjoyed it all immensely, and at times she very timidly
+joined in the fun, which was centering itself upon putting Mr. Leigh of
+the uncertain feet,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> and Miss Grayson, the glowerer, into white ribbon
+bonds, which bonds were supplied from a large box of bonbons, the
+identity of the donor of which she refused to reveal, though Mr. Kent
+declared he had brought her to the station in a gold limousine with
+diamond wheels, and bore the name of Billy Astorbilt.</p>
+
+<p>Only Miss Hawtry held aloof, as she and her maid and various pieces of
+ultra luggage occupied the four seats at the end of the car. The seat
+next her was kept vacant, and at various times during the several hours'
+run Mr. Vandeford, Mr. Height, and Miss Adair occupied it with
+respectful tribute, but most of the time Mr. Farraday sat considerately
+beside her, and smiled upon the fun. Mr. William Rooney and Fido rode in
+the day-coach and worked the entire way on duplicate prompt copies.</p>
+
+<p>Also Mr. Rooney and Fido were absent that evening from the dinner-party
+given by Mr. Farraday in the great new hotel to the entire cast of "The
+Purple Slipper"&mdash;in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> honor of Miss Hawtry. They were working with the
+stage-carpenter, the property-man, and the electrician until a late
+hour, when they met the members of the dinner-party in pairs in
+wheel-chairs being trundled along the board-walk for sea air before
+retiring.</p>
+
+<p>"Hope the angel gave the bunch enough drink to keep 'em asleep until
+two-thirty to-morrow," Mr. Rooney remarked to Fido as he spat out into
+the Atlantic Ocean. "I'm going to put the gaff to 'em to-morrow night,
+and I want to start with 'em unstrung and string 'em to suit myself.
+That little author is some girl, but I wonder why Vandeford wanted to
+shunt that white devil onto a nice boob like Farraday, and him his
+friend, too," he further remarked as he watched the star and the angel
+being trundled by in one of the big wicker perambulators that infest the
+board walk.</p>
+
+<p>In the other direction were being trundled the author and the producer
+of "The Purple Slipper," and at that moment they were in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> the mood of
+fellow-workmen at the machine of "The Purple Slipper."</p>
+
+<p>"Rooney sent me word that the lighting is doubtful. This rotten little
+theater is hard to count on for any kind of unusual lighting, and we
+must have that diffusion for the dinner scene so as to make the candle
+effect seem real," Mr. Vandeford was saying with great animation to Miss
+Adair and with a total lack of sentiment under the same young moon that
+had baffled him Friday night out in Westchester.</p>
+
+<p>"The whole thing seems a confused jumble to me," admitted Miss Adair. "I
+feel as if I couldn't wait until to-morrow night to really see the play
+with the costumes and scenery and love scenes and all in the right
+place. And yet I'm so tired I feel as if I could sleep a week."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll shake you if you go dead on me here as you did the other night in
+the car," threatened Mr. Vandeford, with a laugh, but he adjusted his
+shoulder back of hers as if he considered the danger entirely real.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I'll certainly do it if you don't take me back where I belong, wherever
+it is," threatened Miss Adair. "I hope Mildred isn't as&mdash;as tired as I
+am and&mdash;and can help me. I'll go to bed with my clothes on if she
+doesn't," Miss Adair gasped between yawns, and fluttered to Mr.
+Vandeford with a frank intention of gaining support.</p>
+
+<p>"Back to the hotel, boy, and go a good pace. Double tip," commanded Mr.
+Vandeford to their propelling Italian youth, with an alarm which puzzled
+him as much as it would have puzzled many of his friends, while he
+accorded his exhausted author the amount of support needed for the
+occasion&mdash;and no more.</p>
+
+<p>And as Mr. Rooney had hoped, the entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+slept into the afternoon of the dress-rehearsal day in the complete
+collapse which the sea air induced, and they were in a good condition
+for restringing. In fact, some of them began that process for themselves
+by an afternoon plunge in the ocean.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>One of those plunges had an after-effect on the fate of "The Purple
+Slipper" further than keying up Mr. Gerald Height for his dress
+rehearsals. When he discovered, while detaining Miss Adair for a chat
+after his late luncheon, that the author had never beheld the sea before
+in all her inland existence, and had never been in it, he insisted on
+procuring a bathing-suit and initiating her into that sport. She
+assented to the proposition with the greatest eagerness, and in less
+than half an hour she had trusted herself to the arms of Mr. Gerald
+Height and the Atlantic Ocean. They were both rough in their handling,
+and finally she came to resent the boldness of the former as much as she
+enjoyed that of the latter. With crimson in her cheeks and lightning in
+her eyes, she first attempted to drown them both, then waded to shore,
+sat down on the sand, and said things to Mr. Gerald Height, which had
+the magic effect of making him unburden himself and his lizard-like
+career to her in its entirety.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You see, I didn't know what a girl who&mdash;who wrote your play was like
+exactly, and because I couldn't find out I have kept on trying.
+Now&mdash;now, by George, I know," he said, with a boyishness coming into his
+murky eyes. "Say, you know my mother was a Kentucky girl, and I guess
+that is one reason I have stuck by this fool&mdash;this 'Purple Slipper.'
+That and wanting to chase you down."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, now that you've 'chased me down' and found that I'm not&mdash;not
+there, you'll stay by me and 'The Purple Slipper,' won't you?" Miss
+Adair asked, and then like two merry children they both laughed at her
+jumble.</p>
+
+<p>"I will," answered Mr. Height, with the queer attachment in his heart
+that a man feels for a perfectly good woman who is jolly and friendly
+with him after she has allowed him to tell her just how wicked he is or
+thinks he is. "I thought the whole thing was a flivver, but when
+Vandeford got the opening of the New Carnival for it, I sat up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> and took
+notice. Just you watch the stuff between Hawtry and me put a line a mile
+long from the box office."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm wild to see you and Miss Hawtry in your scenes, and we must go to
+dress for early dinner. The rehearsals are called for six-thirty. Thank
+you for&mdash;for being my friend." As she rose from the sand Miss Adair held
+out her hand to Mr. Height, with the friendliness and confidence in her
+eyes that had smoothed over other rough, though not so rough, places of
+the same character in her young life.</p>
+
+<p>"That's some kid and there are lots like her. I've got to halt sooner or
+later," Mr. Height muttered to himself as he dressed for his early
+dinner. "I'm going to put this fool play across for her, too." There are
+a few women who distill loyalty out of declined passion; but not many.
+They make their mark on their generation.</p>
+
+<p>The dress rehearsals of a play are varied in finish and intensity, but
+the variety which Mr. William Rooney conducted was of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> most
+brilliant, and he expected them to go as well as the opening night. He
+made small allowance for the strangeness of lights, scenery, and
+costuming, and that allowance was only for time, not in smoothness. As
+he willed, his cast generally performed. The cast of "The Purple
+Slipper" was of experienced actors, and he felt certain that they would
+meet his expectations. At six-thirty o'clock he seated himself in the
+middle seat of the sixth row center, looked around to see that the
+electrician and the costumer were at hand to catch any criticism he
+wished to make, and in a crisp hard voice that exploded like a cannon he
+called up the curtain.</p>
+
+<p>The author was at her post in the left stage box, and bulwarked and
+buttressed by the producer as usual, while Mr. Dennis Farraday, the
+angel, sat alone in the box opposite, with a delighted smile on his
+broad face.</p>
+
+<p>The curtain went up, and "The Purple Slipper" glided on the stage with
+never a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> creak or a careen. The lights scintillated and glared on the
+wonderful costumes and scenery, and the sparkling dialogue began to
+unwind itself into the startling plot. For the first ten minutes the
+author glowed with such joyous excitement that the producer felt the
+actual radiations; then little by little he felt her begin to cool, and
+a chill ran up and down his own spine as Hawtry and Height held the
+stage alone in the first dash of Howard-"pepped" dalliance near the last
+of the first act. He held his breath, frozen within him, until the
+curtain went down, and then he refused to turn to the author at his
+side. He was in a panic and undecided what to do until Mr. Rooney
+relieved him of the need of action.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Vandeford," he commanded from the middle of the theater, "get New
+York on the wire and have Lindenberg start a good scenery man out on the
+early morning train. That back-drop must have a toning wash: it jumps
+out at the costumes. Lindenberg is in his office until seven to get a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span>
+message from you. It's ten to now. You gotter jump."</p>
+
+<p>Without a look at Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford "jumped," and thus she was
+left alone to watch the second act grind along to its climax, with
+Hawtry acting the high-bred virago with an extremity of brilliant
+sensuality, with Mr. Height supporting her in broad lines that could be
+well-read between. Once the author looked at Mr. Dennis Farraday in the
+box opposite, and then looked away from his blazing enjoyment of the
+startling climax, which the lovers acted in such beauty of body, and
+such beauty of execution that, without knowing why, she was thrilled
+from her head to her feet.</p>
+
+<p>"Broad standards," she whispered to encourage herself, as her eyes shone
+and her cheeks glowed as she lowered her head and re-read the proof of
+the program to be used on Tuesday night, which Mr. Vandeford had given
+her and upon which she observed the name Patricia Adair in type only
+slightly smaller than that of Violet Hawtry. In a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> few minutes the
+curtain was again called up; Mr. Vandeford was still absent, and again
+her attention was riveted to the stage.</p>
+
+<p>Almost the entire first half of the last act was hers, and the tension
+in her glowing young body had relaxed and she gave Mr. Vandeford a
+semblance of a smile as he seated himself beside her just before Hawtry
+came on the scene to lay with Height the foundation of the great dinner
+scene. This hurdle was held firmly in front of the young author.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hawtry entered in a blaze of eighteenth century glory, only with
+her authentic costume cunningly contrived to reveal more of her
+wonderful white body than any woman of that period would have done, and
+beautiful in his velvet and ruffles, Gerald Height followed her to
+thereupon enact a scene which was a slow and marvellous distilling of
+the very wine of emotion intended to go through human blood like a
+stinging poison. It had reached its climax, and even the emptiness of
+the theater was breathless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> when, like a whip, Mr. Rooney's cold voice
+brought Miss Hawtry out of Mr. Height's arms.</p>
+
+<p>"Cut it, cut it!" he commanded. "You couldn't get that across even on
+Broadway. The censor will close the show. Play it fifty per cent. and
+then all the subway will quit you."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll play it as I choose, you black monkey, you, with your Irish name."
+Maggie Murphy sprang out from the body of the beautiful Hawtry to answer
+back gutter with gutter.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute, Miss Hawtry." Mr. Vandeford rose in his box from beside
+the author of the violent scene that was becoming a basis of a scene of
+violence. "Rooney, it can be played with&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You sit down and help your bread-and-butter baby hide her face for
+writing such rot instead of trying to tell me how to act." Maggie was
+now commanding the Violet, and she was wild with nervous rage. "She's
+welcome to you; five years of your living<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> off me and my work is enough,
+and I don't intend to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Back to your lines on which Miss Hawtry enters, Miss Lindsey,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney, in his machine-gun manner. "Get ready for your
+cue, Height."</p>
+
+<p>Completely ignoring Miss Hawtry, who was standing down center, Mildred
+Lindsey calmly entered and began the beautiful little bit of persiflage
+with Miss Herne, who had gone on before her with an agility unlike her
+usual slow gait. There was nothing for Miss Hawtry to do but retire to
+the wings, which she did, and with the nervous bomb exploded, she
+continued the rehearsals to a finish with the greatest brilliancy,
+playing the interrupted scene at fifty per cent. of its fire, as
+directed by Mr. Rooney.</p>
+
+<p>But the author of "The Purple Slipper" was not there to see the ending
+in calm after the storm, for she had fled at the Violet's attack upon
+Mr. Vandeford, and while he stood his ground to see the matter settled
+in the face of the insult, she had vanished.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+
+<p>At twelve-thirty Mr. Rooney was still in the theater with his
+property-man and his electrician, but just before one he left through
+the stage-door.</p>
+
+<p>"All over, old man, you can put out your lights, lock up, and beat it,"
+he said to the old gentleman who had sat year after year and kept the
+gates of his Inferno.</p>
+
+<p>"Star still in her dressing-room, gent with her," the old keeper
+answered, as he leered at Mr. Rooney, and accepted the big black cigar
+offered him.</p>
+
+<p>"Big, red-headed chap with the show?" Mr. Rooney questioned carelessly.</p>
+
+<p>"Same," admitted the old keeper.</p>
+
+<p>"Cuss her," Mr. Rooney remarked, without either special interest or
+malice, and took his leisurely way to his hotel.</p>
+
+<p>The star dressing-room at the little Atlan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span>tic City theater, in which
+half the plays produced on Broadway first try out their charm, is larger
+than the dressing-rooms in most of the modern theaters, and dainty
+Susette always made any dressing-room which happened to serve Miss
+Hawtry look more like a boudoir than seemed possible, by taking thought
+to have silky rose curtains to adjust over costume-racks and windows,
+with covers to match to be slipped over the couple of rough chairs
+usually supplied dressing-rooms. A fillet covering large enough for any
+dressing-table, the silver and ivory of the make-up outfit, and lights
+shaded with the fillet over rose were about all the equipment that the
+French girl carried in the top of one of Miss Hawtry's costume trunks,
+but she managed an effect with them that many a Fifth Avenue decorator
+might envy. Following instructions, she had put all in exquisite order
+and left the theater before Miss Hawtry was off the stage. The Violet
+had been obliged to send her summons to Mr. Dennis Farraday by the old
+door-keeper;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> hence his knowledge of her man&oelig;uvers.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hawtry was still encased in the magnificence of the costume for the
+final scene of "The Purple Slipper," and in the rose light of the little
+dressing-room she glowed like a fire-hearted opal as Mr. Dennis Farraday
+entered with the great hesitation of a first appearance in a stage
+dressing-room. His face was pale and serious. Miss Hawtry had seen that
+her Maggie Murphy insult to Mr. Vandeford had apparently cut more deeply
+into the big Jonathan than into Mr. Vandeford himself, and she had
+realized that she must set her scene well and act quickly and with
+daring if she accomplished her purposes.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me&mdash;and comfort me. I have hurt myself more than I have hurt
+him," she cried out as she turned to him and expelled two sparkling
+tears from her great blue eyes, and held out bare, white, glorious arms
+to him, with the sob of a repentant child caught in her throat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Now, Mr. Dennis Farraday, great gentleman and the son of a line of
+gentlemen, was in the same state that many another good man and true
+would be in after witnessing "The Purple Slipper" as played by Miss
+Hawtry in her compelling animality, and his angry eyes suddenly blazed
+with another light than anger, as with a hard breath he admitted the
+big, beautiful, treacherous cat into his arms and allowed her bare arms
+to coil around his neck and her body to cling to his.</p>
+
+<p>"How could you&mdash;how can you?" he asked, and the question on his lips
+made them cold, and kept them from hers&mdash;long enough.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford stood in the dressing-room door without so much as rapping
+for permission to enter, and his face was dead white while his eyes
+blazed in a great terror. He seemed not to notice the purport of the
+scene he had interrupted, but his voice cut into the situation like cold
+steel.</p>
+
+<p>"Denny, we can't find Miss Adair any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>where, and here's a note she left
+Miss Lindsey. What do you make of it?" He handed Mr. Farraday a sheet of
+hotel note-paper, which he took with a trembling hand while Miss Hawtry
+shrank back against her lace-covered dressing-table and gathered her
+forces to annihilate Mr. Vandeford. This was the note, which Mr.
+Farraday read with one glance, but failed to read to Miss Hawtry,
+because its few lines struck all consciousness of her existence entirely
+from his mind.</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Dear Mildred</i>:</p>
+
+<p>Dishonor has never smirched the name of Adair until I put it on
+that theater program. I have branded the annals of my family, and I
+never want to look into a human face again. Good-by. You've been
+good to me.</p>
+
+<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Patricia.</span><br />
+</p></div>
+
+
+<p>"My God! What do you suppose she means?" Mr. Farraday gasped, as he
+looked in abject terror at Mr. Vandeford, who returned his glance in
+kind.</p>
+
+<p>"And I promised Roger to take care of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> her," Mr. Farraday gasped, and
+without so much as a glance at Miss Hawtry, both men departed with all
+the rapidity possible. There must be some reason that all bonds
+without-the-law are so brittle, and those of friendship and honor and
+love so strong within the code.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Hawtry did some rapid thinking, as unaided, she slipped from the
+costume of the star of "The Purple Slipper" into her normal raiment and
+character. Then she called a wheel-chair and had herself trundled to the
+hotel. While she was propelled, many other wheels were turning and
+turning fast.</p>
+
+<p>"What does Miss Lindsey think is the matter, and where she is?" Mr.
+Farraday questioned Mr. Vandeford as they strode along together down the
+board-walk towards the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>"She says it's that rotten scene between Hawtry and Height that's killed
+her, and she is right. I felt her die right there by my side," Mr.
+Vandeford answered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You two don't think she would really put an end to&mdash;to herself about a
+play, do you?" demanded Mr. Farraday, and he fairly staggered as he
+asked the question. Then not waiting for an answer, he began to run
+toward the entrance of the hotel half a block ahead. Just as he was
+turning into the doors with Mr. Vandeford closely following, an Italian
+wheel-chair boy darted out of the dusk of his stand, and plucked the
+latter by the sleeve; then together they went racing back the way Mr.
+Vandeford had come.</p>
+
+<p>Half way down the long arbor, dusky under its vines, Mr. Farraday met
+Miss Lindsey, and in the subdued light they paused and looked into each
+other's faces; then entirely to the surprise of them both, they went
+into each other's arms and clung together like two frightened children.
+Miss Lindsey was smothering sobs which made her tender breast storm
+against Mr. Farraday's, in whose own a heart was racing with terror.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't blame her; it was loathsome, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> it was about her own
+grandmother," Miss Lindsey managed to say in a fierce, beautiful voice.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't think, do you, that&mdash;" Mr. Farraday was gasping as he held
+Miss Lindsey still tighter against the racing heart, which was beginning
+to slow down and pound against hers with a slightly different speed.
+However, the terror in his voice made Miss Lindsey press him to her with
+sustaining closeness.</p>
+
+<p>"She's Southern and different, and I don't know what to think," she was
+saying, and in the absorption of their terror they failed to notice that
+Miss Hawtry passed them not six feet away in her wicker chair.</p>
+
+<p>And while they clung to each other and enjoyed their fright and anxiety
+together, Miss Hawtry went into the telephone-booth and got a
+long-distance connection with Mr. Weiner in New York in an incredibly
+short time. Their conversation was almost as incredibly short in view of
+its portentousness, but while it lasted, Mr. Gerald Height and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> Mr.
+William Rooney had been added to the group of anxiety under the arbor,
+and they were all in close conclave, though not in embrace, when Miss
+Hawtry returned to them, walking with cool determination in every step.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Farraday," Miss Hawtry said, with a serenity in her rich voice and
+manner, "I will have to tell you as Mr. Vandeford's partner in 'The
+Purple Slipper' that I am entirely dissatisfied with the way the play
+proves up at dress rehearsal and refuse to open in it. As I am under no
+contract to him since Saturday night, I am motoring back to New York
+to-night to begin rehearsals to-morrow in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' for Mr.
+Weiner. Good-night!" With a stately curtsy to the assembled principals
+of "The Purple Slipper," very dramatic in execution, the Violet bowed
+herself away from them forever. Ten minutes after she was on her way
+back to Manhattan in a big touring-car provided by the hotel management
+per<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> a telephone order from Mr. Weiner of New York.</p>
+
+<p>"And Van sold 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' for her opening on Broadway in the
+New Carnival Theater with 'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Farraday gasped as
+he sat down suddenly on one of the benches in the dim little arbor.</p>
+
+<p>"Lord, what a lose, both shows and maybe&mdash;maybe Miss Adair, too," Mr.
+Gerald Height exclaimed, and there were both sympathy and anxiety in his
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Rooney, as he rolled his fat cigar from the
+left of his mouth to the right and spat into the vines. "I've made a
+pretty good play out of 'The Purple Slipper.' It will go all right
+without her. Actors aren't so much. It's the situation and the
+stage-managing."</p>
+
+<p>"That's what you think," jeered Mr. Gerald Height, gloomily. "I always
+had a hunch that I would never play wig and ruffles."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Can that hunch," commanded Mr. Rooney. "I'm going to put Miss Lindsey
+in the part and play it refined for a winner. Been understudying Miss
+Hawtry, haven't you, Miss Lindsey?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Miss Lindsey, and a sudden radiance shone from her dark,
+intellectual face that lit up the whole arbor and lighted a flame in the
+creative hearts of both Mr. Gerald Height and Mr. William Rooney. And
+what it lighted in the hearts of both of those gentlemen was nothing to
+the blaze it fanned in the heart of Mr. Dennis Farraday, where it had
+been smouldering along from a spark touched off the day of the beefsteak
+and mushrooms. "If you'll help me play it as I have seen it all along,
+Mr. Rooney, I can go on to-morrow night."</p>
+
+<p>"Good," agreed Mr. Rooney. "I'll shove Miss Grayson up into your part,
+and cut out hers until we get a girl. We'll get the little author busy
+right now, blotting out the Hawtry smell and putting you in, as I say,
+refined and&mdash;"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but where <i>is</i> she?" moaned Mr. Farraday, coming back to his agony
+of uneasiness, which had been drugged by hearing and seeing "The Purple
+Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford's fortunes rescued and reconstructed right
+before his ears and eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"There ain't but two places for a refined lady to run in Atlantic
+City,&mdash;the railroad station and the ocean,&mdash;and I bet Mr. Vandeford is
+lugging her from the railroad station right now," Mr. Rooney said with
+easy conviction. "Course she'd dodge back to the Christian ladies home
+the first mud-puddle she stepped into, but we'll set her on her feet and
+rub the splashes off her white stockings and&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Rooney was interrupted in his kindly flow of reassurance by the
+appearance of a wheel-chair propelled by the shrewd Italian youth, who
+had that evening made his individual fortune, in which sat Mr. Vandeford
+and the author of "The Purple Slipper." Without command, he stopped
+beside the group of friends, and Mr. Vandeford<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> alighted, but Miss Adair
+shrank back into the shadow of the perambulator.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, darling, listen," cried Miss Lindsey, as she reached into that
+retreat and drew Miss Adair into her arms. "Miss Hawtry has thrown up
+the part and gone back to New York, and I am going to act it for you
+just as you and I have talked about it all this time. Mr. Rooney is
+going to help us, and we&mdash;we are going to make good for you&mdash;and Mr.
+Vandeford&mdash;to-morrow night. We are!"</p>
+
+<p>"Just watch us, Miss Adair. I'll do my best, and I'll&mdash;I'll be like we
+talked the other day," Mr. Height said as he came to the other side of
+the wicker retreat of the hunted author. Something in his voice made Mr.
+Dennis Farraday put his arm around the lizard's shoulders, a thing he
+would not have thought of doing a week ago.</p>
+
+<p>"We are all going to stand by, little girl, and it'll be some play that
+we produce at the New Carnival October first," Mr. Far<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>raday put in by
+way of his contribution to the wounded young author.</p>
+
+<p>However, it was the crack of Mr. Rooney's whip that brought her to her
+feet again.</p>
+
+<p>"Miss Adair, you and Lindsey come back with me to the theater now," he
+commanded the shrinking and tragic author. "Somebody get Fido and tell
+him to wake up everybody and have 'em all at the theater to rehearse in
+a hour; that'll be three o'clock. Mr. Vandeford, you'd better get in a
+press story over long distance before Hawtry beats you to it. You may
+catch a morning paper or two. Now, everybody get out and work like fun
+and we'll show Broadway a sure-fire hit October first."</p>
+
+<p>"Can you do it, Bill?" Mr. Vandeford asked in a quiet voice. It was the
+first time he had spoken since he had coolly and silently picked Miss
+Adair up off a bench in the little railroad station and put her into the
+sympathetic young Dago's one-man-power conveyance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I can take ten yards of calico, a pot of red wagon paint, and a pretty
+gal and make a show to fill any theater on Broadway for six months&mdash;if
+I'm let alone," answered Mr. Rooney, with the assurance that moves
+mountains. "That Lindsey is one good actor with common horse-sense, and
+the little author filly has Blue-grass speed. Watch us!"</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, and steel sparks struck out in his keen
+eyes as he turned and went rapidly to one of the long-distance telephone
+booths with which all Atlantic City keeps up its intimate relations with
+New York. It was also astonishing how quickly he got his connection with
+a great New York morning paper and was put on the desk wire of one of
+the junior editors, who was a good friend in need.</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Hello, Curt. Godfrey Vandeford speaking."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span>. . . . . .<br /></p>
+
+<p>"With my show in Atlantic City. Can you get a note across in the morning
+issue?"</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Good! Spread it that Hawtry is put out of 'The Purple Slipper' cast to
+give place to a new Pacific Coast star, Mildred Lindsey. Hawtry handed
+it to Denny and me rotten, but put that under pretty deep, with Lindsey
+blazed in top lines. I'll have my publicity man send you a special
+Lindsey Sunday story. Hot stuff."</p>
+
+<p>. . . . . .</p>
+
+<p>"Thanks, old man! By!"</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>Another fifteen minutes was spent in long distance communication with
+Mr. Meyers, and it was ten minutes after three o'clock in the morning
+when Mr. Vandeford slipped into his chair beside his author in the
+little Atlantic City Theater, which Mr. Rooney had induced the old night
+watchman door-keeper to open up at the hour when all teeming Atlantic
+City is in the depths of repose. Mr. Rooney had with him the entire cast
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> "The Purple Slipper," to whom he had just finished explaining the
+cause of their extraction from their well-earned repose.</p>
+
+<p>"Most of the Sister Harriet scenes are with me," Miss B&eacute;b&eacute; Herne was
+saying, with efficient energy fairly radiating from her big body,
+clothed in a decorous tailor skirt, but with a boudoir jacket serving
+for blouse. Also two kid curlers showed at the nape of her neck. "I can
+feed Miss Grayson into Miss Lindsey's part enough to get by
+to-morrow&mdash;to-night I mean. And Wallace can do the same when he's on
+with her. That ugly white cat Hawtry to double on Godfrey Vandeford
+after he pulled her out of Weehawken!"</p>
+
+<p>"Get on, get on, everybody, and use your brains until they lather,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney as he took his stand beside the left stage box.
+"Now, Miss, you gimme lines out of your head or your first draft when I
+call for 'em, and I'll take 'em or leave 'em as suits me. Then you
+smooth the ones I hand you into good talk, and we'll have a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> show here
+by sun-up that you'll be proud to invite your Christian lady friends to
+attend. And we'll keep all the 'pep' too, Vandeford, that you paid
+Howard to write into it, only we'll take the Hawtry dirt out of it. On,
+Betty Carrington, and the curtain's up."</p>
+
+<p>Then from three o'clock in the morning until almost noon the machinery
+of "The Purple Slipper" was overhauled and adjusted to the new cog. Mr.
+Rooney lashed and rubbed and polished and oiled with never a let-up on
+anybody, and beside him sat the author, with her head up and the bit in
+her mouth. For every line that rang untrue in the reconstruction she had
+a true one or she took a crude bit from Mr. Rooney and polished it into
+place. Fido sat crouched in a front seat and transcribed every word into
+his prompt copy so as to be a veritable first aid.</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, experienced show man that he was, felt as if
+he was witnessing a miracle as he beheld Miss Adair's original "Purple
+Slipper," with its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> haphazard amateur charm, again put forth bud and
+bloom on the branches of Grant Howard's tight-knit, well-constructed,
+and well-rounded drama. The highly-colored flowers of Hawtry personality
+Mr. Rooney pruned away and constructed others for Lindsey, and Miss
+Adair lent them color and perfume in passing them to the new star, who
+was working steadily, slowly, surely, and with great power.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't tell him that his eyes 'burn into yours until your soul is
+seared.' That's old. We got to get a kind of smile here where Hawtry
+looked like she was going to do the ham sandwich act to Height and his
+silk tights." Mr. Rooney stopped the abhorred scene, being acted along
+about six o'clock in the morning, to demand that it be played in the
+proper key, up to which he had succeeded in wringing lines from Miss
+Adair for the first act and most of the second. "What do hearts do to
+each other that's hot and decent and funny all at once?" Mr. Rooney
+fired this biological<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> question to the author of "The Purple Slipper,"
+and looked at her with a demand for an immediate answer in his little,
+black, driving eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"She can say 'There's chaff in my heart; guard the fire in yours,'" Miss
+Adair supplied offhand.</p>
+
+<p>"That hands it to him, and a good double meaning, too," Mr. Rooney
+approved. "Go ahead, Height, but don't get this lady mixed with the
+other kind. Remember, she lives at the ladies Christian home." The laugh
+that greeted this sally was an uproar that added to the dash and quick
+fire of the big scene, which Miss Adair and Mr. Rooney had so quickly
+expurgated and reconstructed between them.</p>
+
+<p>At seven o'clock the play had been entirely run through, and Fido had
+the result in his prompt copy and was beginning to rapidly write it into
+their lines for each of the cast.</p>
+
+<p>"One half hour to get breakfast and Miss Herne's back hair down," Mr.
+Rooney said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> with the callousness of a slave-driver. "Then if you run
+through again fairly well we'll be done by noon, and everybody can hit
+the hay for six hours."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford watched his author's proud little head droop on the box
+rail in front of her, and with his face very white he motioned Mr.
+Farraday to come to her. After his degrading the night before at the
+hands of Miss Hawtry, he felt that he would be unable to endure the pain
+of the repulsion he felt sure he would find in her eyes if she ever
+looked at him again.</p>
+
+<p>But his summons of Mr. Farraday failed in peremptoriness, for that big,
+bonny gentleman nodded to him, then stood in the wing to catch Miss
+Lindsey in his arms and bear her away to immediate nourishment. In the
+excitement of the last few hours a domesticity had grown up between Mr.
+Farraday and Miss Lindsey that it would have taken months to build in a
+world less hectic than that in which they were then living.</p>
+
+<p>Their courtship had been brief, and cons<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span>isted in one question, asked by
+Mr. Farraday while Miss Lindsey stood in the wings waiting for a
+moderated, impassioned cue from Mr. Height, and answered by her as she
+responded to him and the call of her stage lover at the same moment.</p>
+
+<p>"When will you marry me?"</p>
+
+<p>"When 'The Purple Slipper' goes on Broadway."</p>
+
+<p>In the circumstances it was natural that Mr. Dennis Farraday should take
+Miss Lindsey for a reminiscent beefsteak and mushrooms during the only
+free half hour she would have for either him or food in the ensuing day,
+and to fail to heed Mr. Vandeford's summon.</p>
+
+<p>Thus deserted, Mr. Vandeford was about to steal forth and appeal to some
+member of the cast of "The Purple Slipper" to come to his rescue in
+providing refreshment to restore the author during the precious half
+hour respite when "the chaff in his heart" caught fire and began to burn
+away forever. Miss Adair raised her eyes to his, with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> faith still
+in their wounded depths, and smiled a wan little smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Please get me a glass of milk with an egg in it, and some of that
+brown-bread turkey," she demanded. "I'm dead, but I'll come alive again
+if I go to sleep a minute. Shake me when you get back with it, but get
+something for yourself while you are gone."</p>
+
+<p>"The kiddie, the precious, spunky kiddie," Mr. Vandeford said in his
+heart over and over as he and the young Italian rushed to the hotel and
+back with a waiter and a tray of the desired refreshment, to which had
+been added an iced melon and a couple of bedewed roses.</p>
+
+<p>The shaking had to be literally administered while young Dago Italiana
+held the tray, and then had to be repeated several times by Mr.
+Vandeford, as he almost as literally fed his exhausted author, up until
+the very minute in which Mr. Rooney rang up the curtain and again called
+her into action.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Five hours was more than enough for the smooth running of the three-hour
+"Purple Slipper" show, and at eleven o'clock Mr. Rooney dismissed his
+jaded cast with this strict command delivered in his rich, deep voice,
+which held a note of genuine solemnity.</p>
+
+<p>"All of you go to sleep every minute between now and night, and then
+come back here and make good&mdash;for all of us."</p>
+
+<p>With the assistance of young Dago Italiana, Mr. Vandeford delivered Miss
+Adair to a hotel maid, who accepted five dollars from him as a fee for
+putting her to bed, and then he plunged into still greater
+strenuosities.</p>
+
+<p>He sat for three hours with his skilled young publicity man and
+advance-agent, and laid out a discreet, dignified, but very interesting,
+publicity campaign for the new star of "The Purple Slipper." Due
+importance was to be given in all the notices that "The Purple Slipper"
+was to open the New Carnival Theater and in his heart the young
+advertiser put away the intention of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> making the fact that Mr. Vandeford
+had sold Hawtry and "The Rosie Posie Girl" for "The Purple Slipper," his
+most brilliant reserve story to set all of Broadway, at least, agog for
+the opening of the expensive new play.</p>
+
+<p>"It puts 'The Purple Slipper' at the big end of the horn, and it's not
+your fault that there is only the little end of the horn left for 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' for the time being," he explained to Mr. Vandeford.
+"You see, it is a kind of double-cross that acts both ways. If it goes,
+people will think it was worth your paying a big price for, and if it
+fails, they'll think the 'Rosie Posie Girl' couldn't have been much if
+you traded a chance on such a poor show for it."</p>
+
+<p>"Goes!" said Mr. Vandeford, but he was aware that the smart man&oelig;uver,
+which would once have delighted his soul, made him intensely weary.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, so fatigued did he feel when he left this young press schemer,
+that he dropped into his bed for an hour, and had a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> masseur come and
+pound him into condition to go to the train with good Dennis Farraday to
+meet Mrs. Farraday, Mrs. and Mr. and Miss Van Tyne, who arrived at five
+o'clock from big Manhattan. Mr. Farraday had had a like operation
+performed upon himself, and was in such a radiant condition that Mr.
+Vandeford felt badly eclipsed beside him.</p>
+
+<p>"What does it all mean about Miss Hawtry and Miss Lindsey and the show,
+Van?" Mrs. Farraday questioned, with greater anxiety in her face than
+she had had at any other opening night of her favorite's successful
+shows. "Are we going to have a terrible time?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going to put you in a wheel-chair and let Denny take you up to the
+north end of the board-walk and tell you all about it while I locate and
+make comfortable the rest of the folks," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+deep relief at her presence in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are my girls?" she questioned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Both dead&mdash;asleep," he answered, as if deeply happy to be able to say
+it of his star and his author.</p>
+
+<p>His statement was only partly true, for while Miss Adair slept the sleep
+of the emotionally unanxious, Mildred Lindsey sat crouched by her
+window, with her eyes looking far out over the Atlantic Ocean, waiting
+for the result of Mr. Dennis Farraday's talk with his mother at the
+north end of the board-walk.</p>
+
+<p>There are occasionally mothers who bear sons who can tell them all about
+things, and Mrs. Farraday really enjoyed the whole story that big,
+bonnie Dennis poured out to her at the sunset hour by the brink of old
+ocean, Dago Italiana squatting on his heels out of hearing and basking
+in inactivity, from the moment of the beefsteak episode in his and Miss
+Lindsey's acquaintance up to the moment in which Miss Hawtry had
+established herself in his arms on the occasion of his d&eacute;but in a stage
+dressing-room. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> even at that stage of the narration she rather
+astonished Mr. Farraday, who was shamefaced enough at the telling, by
+saying with soft pity in her motherly voice:</p>
+
+<p>"The poor woman. Of course she couldn't help loving you, and now she's
+lost both Van and you. Now go on and tell me about Mildred."</p>
+
+<p>"She&mdash;she's the best ever," was Mr. Farraday's explicit and enlightening
+answer.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course she is. I saw that the time you brought her to dinner with
+me, and also that you were in love with her. She's really a rather
+wonderful girl, and&mdash;and&mdash;Dennis, I'll tell you something that I never
+expected to tell you&mdash;I've always wanted to be an actress. I simply
+adore that Lindsey girl, and I know she'll make a great actress. Why on
+earth should she want to marry you?" Which goes to show that
+aristocratic Mrs. Farraday was not the ordinary mother.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go ask her," roared big Dennis,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> as he embraced her in a way that
+made the sympathetic and now wealthy young Dago Italiana flash his white
+teeth in joy.</p>
+
+<p>And nobody can say how much the fate of "The Purple Slipper" was
+affected by the fact that Rosalind went upon the stage for her first
+appearance as a star, straight from the tender arms of stately,
+white-haired Mrs. Farraday.</p>
+
+<p>The opening night of "The Purple Slipper," by Patricia Adair, produced
+by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and staged by Mr. William Rooney, was a
+triumph undisputed and acknowledged by a brilliant cosmopolitan audience
+such as Atlantic City furnishes any play presented to it before
+September the twenty-fifth, for up until that week on the board-walk of
+that resort East meets West and the South joins them. The eminent author
+sat in the left stage box with Mrs. Justus Farraday of New York and Mr.
+and Mrs. Derick Van Tyne, and at her side was a chair into which at
+times dropped Mr. Dennis Farraday, but which had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> reserved for the
+producer. Things had gone brilliantly from the start, from the moment
+the curtain went up with polished, interesting Miss Herne man&oelig;uvering
+the frightened and substituted Betty Carrington through the opening
+dialogue. A veritable gasp of joy had greeted the beautiful Mr. Gerald
+Height as he entered in his colonial wig, ruffles, and velvet, and his
+big eyes under their bowed brows sought out the author and smiled at her
+with a genuine pledge of loyalty which no lizard could ever have given
+forth as he glided richly into his archaic banter with Miss Herne.</p>
+
+<p>"He'll get 'em going, get 'em going the whole dame bunch from Harlem to
+the Battery," muttered Mr. Rooney to Fido, who stood in the wings, with
+his eyes glued to the much annotated prompt copy. "Now watch out for
+Lindsey; she's doing forty sides of new stuff in twenty hours. Me for
+the stock company to train 'em young. Let her rip, Rosalind!" And with a
+nod Mr. Rooney sent his "bet" out upon the stage<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> to make the audience
+forget that they had paid their money to see Violet Hawtry and make them
+glad to have paid it to see her.</p>
+
+<p>As Mildred Lindsey stepped out on the stage in all the glory of an
+almost unbelievable beauty, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, who sat with his
+shoulder back of that of the author of his play, seemed to behold a
+vision with his trained theatrical foresight. This slender, powerful
+young woman, with the rose dusk of the prairie sun on her cheeks, the
+depths of the great ca&ntilde;ons in her dark eyes, and the breadth of the far
+horizons across her broad brow seemed to him to typify the rise of order
+in her profession, over which so long had ruled chaos. And as her rich
+voice led the intrigued audience from one brilliant scene to another, in
+which she reincarnated before their eyes a very flower of the old
+Southern chivalry with dash, finish, and lucidity, he felt as if he had
+done his best and now had a right to be allowed to depart in peace from
+the world of tinsel and illusion. As Lindsey and Height held<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> the
+audience spell-bound while the tempted wife dueled with her might
+against the tender and desperate lover, placing, with a combined art
+that was as great as any he had ever witnessed, the "big scene" of "The
+Purple Slipper" among the "big scenes" of the modern stage instead of in
+the class of lascivious masterpieces where the night before Hawtry had
+laid it, Mr. Vandeford looked down into the gray eyes of the girl who
+had had it all in her blood for generations, and who had so brilliantly
+given it birth, and felt a prophecy rise within him that soon the
+American drama would begin to draw on the wealth of tradition which had
+been piling up in a vast storage for it, and that when it did,
+dramatists and actors, men and women, would rise to interpret it to a
+wondering world.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it really mine?" she asked him, in proud surprise and wonder.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's yours&mdash;filtered through Howard and Rooney and all the rest,
+but&mdash;it&mdash;is&mdash;you," he answered. "You lost it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> a dozen times, but&mdash;his
+own comes back to a man or a woman."</p>
+
+<p>His eyes blazed so that the long lashes lowered over the stars in hers,
+and she saw the curtain fall on the last scene in a mist of tears. The
+onrush of applause that raised the curtain half a dozen times was
+confused in her by the pounding of Mr. Vandeford's heart back of her
+shoulder and the echo in her own.</p>
+
+<p>"Fifty weeks and then some, Van," she heard the young press-agent
+declare, in business-like congratulation.</p>
+
+<p>"Sure-fire hit," Mr. Rooney pronounced, as he spat on the stage floor
+behind the curtain. "Rehearsals at ten to-morrow to tighten up, Fido. Me
+for the hay." Miss Adair had gone back of the footlights to cast her
+gratitude into his arms, and he had failed to notice her appearance in
+any way at all, but had spat and gone on his autocratic way. Perhaps in
+the New World of the Theater, stage-managers may be able to afford to be
+human, perhaps not.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vandeford's supper-party to the cast of "The Purple Slipper" and the
+friends from New York who had come down to see its try-out, lasted until
+two o'clock in the morning, but when it was over neither the moon, which
+was as full that night as Mr. Kent had become by coffee and cigars, nor
+Dago Italiana had retired, and both stayed on their jobs out at the
+south end of the board walk, where boards melt off into sand and ocean
+and sky.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had got about two thirds of the way along the
+painful stretch of autobiography, with which he was inflicting agony on
+himself by recounting to Miss Adair, when she raised her gray eyes to
+his with the faith and reverence still at their average level, even
+slightly higher, and stopped his punishment.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand exactly why people like you and Miss Hawtry don't marry
+each other," she astonished him by saying in all calmness. "Mr. Height
+explained it all to me the other day. Actors and actresses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> have
+peculiar temperaments that fly together when they ought not to, and fly
+apart when they ought to stay together. I know just how that is because
+I feel&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, as he laid his hands on the shoulders
+of his author, who was standing close to him, with the moonlight full on
+her clear-cut, high-bred face, and he gave her a savage shake. "The
+whole crazy bunch will have to have law and order shot into 'em or the
+theatrical profession will follow horse-racing to the devil. If they
+don't give up unfaith and the double-cross Broadway will open some night
+and swallow them all. And here you come out of a real world and say to
+me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"What did you think I was going to say?" demanded Miss Adair, pressing
+so close to him that it was impossible for him to administer another
+shake.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know and I don't want to hear it. I'm afraid to have you say
+anything to me."</p>
+
+<p>"It was this: I was going to ask you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> what I would have done if you had
+been married to Miss Hawtry when I got to you and we had begun to
+produce our play together. It's different when men and women work
+together! Standards have to be broader. How do I know that I would have
+run away to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Don't, don't!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford as she crept still nearer to him
+and forcibly tried to open his arms for herself. "I'm punished. I've
+taught you myself! When I leave you how'll I ever know if I'm going to
+find you there when I come back?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how'd you expect to find me&mdash;me&mdash;there if you don't take me
+there?" Miss Adair pleaded as she tugged at his folded arms, with such
+energy that her polished thumb-nail slightly marked his iron wrists.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not worthy, child, I'm not worthy," Mr. Vandeford answered with
+grim words, and his arms still taut against his breast.</p>
+
+<p>"You have to judge yourself with the same&mdash;same 'broad standards' I
+judge you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> by, like you told me to use. Please open your arms!"</p>
+
+<p>"I take those broad standards away from you."</p>
+
+<p>"Jesus Christ gave them to me, only I didn't understand in Adairville."</p>
+
+<p>"God, I wish you had never left Adairville."</p>
+
+<p>"I know what there is for us to do."</p>
+
+<p>"What?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll go back and marry you by Adairville narrow standards for better
+and for worse, and then we'll have to keep 'em for ourselves when we
+come back, because we did it knowing what we know, but let other people
+be broad wherever they are without judging them. I'm going to drop
+asleep right here on the sand if you don't open your arms."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, good Lord, what did You make women out of?" Mr. Vandeford said in
+all reverence and bewilderment, as he took the "white flame" to his
+breast and drew it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> past her lips until it burned away all the chaff in
+his soul and established itself upon its altar.</p>
+
+<p>After Mr. Vandeford had again delivered his author to the hopeful maid,
+waiting up for another greenback, he met Mr. Rooney at the desk of the
+hotel still on his way to "the hay."</p>
+
+<p>"Closed up with Weiner to begin rehearsing 'The Rosie Posie Girl' on
+Tuesday, after we open 'The Purple Slipper' in the New Carnival. Said
+Hawtry wouldn't sign up until I had signed too. She's got a hunch for
+me. If you fail, their show goes in in your place; if you win, Weiner
+shunts John Drew or Arliss out to one of his other theaters on the road,
+and puts in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.' Good business, eh?" And Mr. Rooney
+rolled his cigar from east to west and questioned Mr. Vandeford, with a
+new fire for a new undertaking beginning to burn in his little black
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> cordiality, and not even
+thinking of his lost thousands. "It will go big, Rooney, and I'll be
+glad&mdash;none gladder."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," answered Mr. Rooney. "It's all in the business. Everybody on
+Broadway is out to stab everybody else&mdash;but mostly it's paper daggers if
+you take it right."</p>
+
+<p>"A tissue-paper world sewed together with tinsel thread," Mr. Vandeford
+murmured, as he fell asleep with his cheek pillowed on the wrist that
+Miss Adair had marked in the struggle for her own.</p>
+
+<p>A week from that night "The Purple Slipper" had its first night on
+Broadway, and opened the New Carnival Theater in a blaze of glory,
+publicity, and electric lights. The talented young press-agent had done
+his work well, and the audience assembled was the most brilliant
+possible, made up of the usual blas&eacute; critics, eager theatrical people
+who were not on the boards themselves, and interested and distinguished
+men and women from many outer worlds. In the box facing the one occupied
+by Mrs. Justus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> Farraday, in a blaze of both the Farraday and Justus
+jewels and prestige, and the beautiful young author of the play, with
+her son Mr. Dennis Farraday, and the producer, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford,
+sat Miss Violet Hawtry with Mr. Weiner, the owner of the beautiful new
+theater which was opening its doors for the first time on Broadway. When
+the curtain fell upon the new Lindsey star after its eighth elevation,
+the Violet rushed behind the scenes and took that astonished young woman
+in her arms, with the real tears of emotion, with which one genuine
+artist greets another, in her great blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"You were wonderful, my dear, perfectly wonderful," she exclaimed. "You
+see, Van, I never could have done it like that. Good luck to both of
+you, and the little author&mdash;oh, there you are, my dear! All of you shake
+hands with Mr. Weiner. He's so pleased that he is speechless, but he's
+going to give you a big banquet on your fiftieth performance. He's
+promised me."</p>
+
+<p>Which demonstration was perfectly in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> keeping with Miss Hawtry and
+Maggie Murphy's character, and emanated from that quality within her
+that a month later put "The Rosie Posie Girl" up as high and as
+brilliant in electric lights as "The Purple Slipper," and kept it there
+an entire year. Which goes to prove that the "tissue paper world" is yet
+of heroic fibre.</p>
+
+<p>When Mr. Vandeford went to insert his author into the international
+safety that evening at about the hour of midnight, he saw that his
+friend the secretary was shooing a chattering party of Christian ladies,
+who, as his guests, had sat in a group, fifth row center, in the New
+Carnival Theater that evening, off up-stairs. With his talisman key,
+which had never left his pocket since it had been presented to him, in
+his hand, he paused to speak in a friendly shadow to his successful and
+now truly eminent playwright.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to go South Thursday, and I'll follow Sunday to get that
+little marriage business over in Adairville before we leave for the
+Klondike. My commission<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> has arrived from Washington, and the Secretary
+of the Navy wants quick reports of the copper before the big freeze. Do
+you suppose I can keep you warm in
+<a name="corr23" id="corr23"></a><a class="correction" href="#cn23" title="changed from 'Esquimo'">Eskimo</a>
+furs and&mdash;and my heart?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the flutter which Mr. Vandeford now
+answered, without any conscious volition. "There ought to be a great
+play out of the Klondike. Jack London could have done it, but&mdash;but&mdash;"
+the faithful gray eyes were raised to his with the flame in their
+depths.</p>
+
+<p>With a groan, but an answering flame, Mr. Vandeford replied:</p>
+
+<p>"It's a fatal drag&mdash;. Yes. Some day we'll come back and try to put
+across another one!"</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">THE END</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="transnote">
+<h3>Transcriber's note<a name="tnotes" id="tnotes"></a></h3>
+
+<p>
+The following changes have been made to the text:</p>
+
+<p>Page 12: "marischino" changed to
+"<a name="cn1" id="cn1"></a><a href="#corr1">maraschino</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 14: "plenty ruffles" changed to "plenty
+<a name="cn2" id="cn2"></a><a href="#corr2">of ruffles</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 14: "nee" changed to
+"<a name="cn3" id="cn3"></a><a href="#corr3">née</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 29: "heatrical" changed to
+"<a name="cn4" id="cn4"></a><a href="#corr4">theatrical</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 37: "mocking bird" changed to
+"<a name="cn5" id="cn5"></a><a href="#corr5">mockingbird</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 40: "Highcliffe" changed to
+"<a name="cn6" id="cn6"></a><a href="#corr6">Highcliff</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 42: "Vanderford" changed to
+"<a name="cn7" id="cn7"></a><a href="#corr7">Vandeford</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 57: "Madamoiselle" changed to
+"<a name="cn8" id="cn8"></a><a href="#corr8">Mademoiselle</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 58: "Madamoiselle" changed to
+"<a name="cn9" id="cn9"></a><a href="#corr9">Mademoiselle</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 61: "atinkle" changed to
+"<a name="cn10" id="cn10"></a><a href="#corr10">atwinkle</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 67: "Highcliffe" changed to
+"<a name="cn11" id="cn11"></a><a href="#corr11">Highcliff</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 90: "coemployer's" changed to
+"<a name="cn12" id="cn12"></a><a href="#corr12">co-employer's"</a>.</p>
+
+<p>Page 114: "Fou get Gerald" changed to
+"<a name="cn13" id="cn13"></a><a href="#corr13">You get Gerald</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Pages 118-119: "ear of his coproducer" changed to "ear of his
+<a name="cn14" id="cn14"></a><a href="#corr14">co-producer</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 125: "Lindenberger" changed to
+"<a name="cn15" id="cn15"></a><a href="#corr15">Lindenberg</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 145: "I'd going to" changed to
+"<a name="cn16" id="cn16"></a><a href="#corr16">I'm</a> going to".</p>
+
+<p>Page 193: "She's geting along" changed to "She's
+<a name="cn17" id="cn17"></a><a href="#corr17">getting</a> along".</p>
+
+<p>Page 220: "the he Christian" changed to
+"<a name="cn18" id="cn18"></a><a href="#corr18">the Christian</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 236: "touseled" changed to
+"<a name="cn19" id="cn19"></a><a href="#corr19">tousled</a>"</p>
+
+<p>Page 237: "manila envelop" changed to "manila
+<a name="cn20" id="cn20"></a><a href="#corr20">envelope</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 245: "Vanderford" changed to
+"<a name="cn21" id="cn21"></a><a href="#corr21">Vandeford</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 307: "tryout" changed to
+"<a name="cn22" id="cn22"></a><a href="#corr22">try-out</a>".</p>
+
+<p>Page 373: "Esquimo" changed to
+"<a name="cn23" id="cn23"></a><a href="#corr23">Eskimo</a>".</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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+Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Blue-grass and Broadway
+
+Author: Maria Thompson Daviess
+
+Release Date: July 12, 2009 [EBook #29391]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-GRASS AND BROADWAY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Carla Foust, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's note
+
+
+Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Printer
+errors have been changed and are listed at the end. All other
+inconsistencies are as in the original.
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+ [Illustration: "We are all going to stand by, little girl"]
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+ BY
+
+ MARIA THOMPSON DAVIESS
+
+ Author of "THE MELTING OF MOLLY," "THE GOLDEN BIRD,"
+ "THE TINDER BOX," etc.
+
+ NEW YORK
+
+ THE CENTURY CO.
+
+ 1919
+
+
+
+
+ Copyright, 1919, by
+
+ THE CENTURY CO.
+
+ Copyright, 1918, by
+
+ INTERNATIONAL MAGAZINE COMPANY (HARPER'S BAZAR)
+
+ _Published, April, 1919_
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+
+
+
+ BLUE-GRASS
+
+ AND
+
+ BROADWAY
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+
+The need of a large sum of money in a great hurry is the root of many
+noble ambitions, in whose branches roost strange companies of birds,
+pecking away for dollars that grow--or do not--on bushes. And it was in
+such a quest that Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, lit upon
+a limb of life beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford of Broadway, New York. Their
+joint endeavors made a great adventure.
+
+"There's nothing to it, Pop; either pony girls will have to grow four
+legs to cut new capers, somebody will have to write a play entitled
+'When Courtship Was in Flower,' requiring flowered skirts ten yards wide
+with a punch in each furbelow, or we go out of the theatrical business,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, as he shuffled a faint, violet-tinted letter out of
+a pile of advertising posters emblazoned with dancing girls and men,
+several personal bills, two from a theatrical storage house and one from
+an electrical expert, leaned back in his chair, and prepared to open the
+violet communication. "We dropped twenty thousand cool on 'Miss Cut-up,'
+and those sixteen pairs of legs cost us fifteen hundred a week. We might
+be in danger of starving right here on Broadway, if we hadn't picked a
+sure-fire hit in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.'"
+
+"Ain't it the truth," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, as he glanced up from
+his typewriter with a twinkle in his big black eyes that were like gems
+in a round, very sedate, even sad, Hebrew face. "Bare legs and 'cut-ups'
+is already old now, Mr. Vandeford. It is that we must have now a play
+with a punch."
+
+"The law won't let us take anything more off the chorus, so we'll have
+to swing back and put a lot on. Costumes that cost a million will be the
+next drag, mark me, Pop," Mr. Godfrey Vandeford declaimed with a gloomy
+brow, as he still further delayed exploring the violet missive.
+
+"A hundred thousand it will take for costuming 'The Rosie Posie Girl,'"
+agreed Pop dolefully, from above the letter he was slowly pecking out of
+the machine.
+
+"For furnishing chiffon belts, you mean, not costumes, if we go by
+Corbett's clothes ideas," growled the pessimistic, prospective producer
+of the possible next season's hit in the girl-show line.
+
+"You have it right," answered Pop, sympathetically.
+
+"If I hadn't promised to let old Denny in on my Violet Hawtry show for
+the fall I'd be tempted to throw back everything, even 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl' and go gunning for potatoes or onions up on a Connecticut farm;
+but the show bug has bit Denny hard and I'll have to be the one to
+shear him and not leave it to any of the others. I'll be more merciful
+to his millions; but asking him to put up half of a cool hundred and
+fifty thousand is a bit raw. Wish I had a nice little glad play with an
+under twenty cast for him to cut his teeth on instead of the 'Rosie
+Posie.'"
+
+"It's six plays on the shelf now for reading," reminded Mr. Meyers,
+eagerly, for to him fell the task of weeding all plays sent into the
+office of Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer, and his optimistic
+soul suffered when he discovered a gem and found himself unable to get
+Mr. Vandeford to read so much as the first act unless he caught him in
+just such a mood as the one in which he now labored. "Now, I want that
+you take just a peep, Mr. Vandeford, at that new Hinkle comedy for which
+I have written already five times to delay--"
+
+"Can't do it now, Pop! Don't you see that I have got to read this purple
+letter and that is all the business I can attend to for this morning?"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, as he pushed a slim paper cutter along the top
+edge of the purple missive.
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, it is that I have--"
+
+"Express. Sign here!" was the interruption that put an end to Mr.
+Meyers's immediate supplication. The parcel that he deposited upon his
+chief's desk with forceful meekness was a play manuscript.
+
+"Great guns, Pops; I'm seeing purple!" exclaimed Mr. Vandeford, as he
+let the violet letter fall upon the violet wrappings in which the
+express intrusion was incased. "Exact match! This looks like some sort
+of a hunch. Open it, Pops, and run through the layout while I tackle the
+violet letter and see if anything happens." And with great interest both
+grown men plunged into the excitement of the chase of the hunch.
+
+Mr. Vandeford's letter contained the following, delivered in bold words
+and script:
+
+ HIGHCLIFF.
+
+ _My dear Van:_
+
+ This is to remind you that it is now July fifth, and my contract
+ sets September twenty-third as the last date for my opening on
+ Broadway in a new play under your management. "The Rosie Posie
+ Girl" will be a huge undertaking and worthy of my every effort, but
+ I do not feel that you are up to producing it properly. I regret
+ your losses in "Miss Cut-up," but I did my best with a vehicle that
+ was not worthy of my ability. The success of "Dear Geraldine" was
+ entirely due to the comedy bits I wrote in to suit myself, and I
+ had to be costumer and producer and the whole show. In justice to
+ myself I feel that I ought to pass under the management of a more
+ forceful person than yourself. And anyway I don't think you would
+ be able to get a theater to open on Broadway in September. Remember
+ that over a hundred good shows died on the road waiting to get into
+ Broadway last winter, and _I_ won't play anywhere else. Now Weiner
+ wants to buy "The Rosie Posie Girl" from you and open his New
+ Carnival Theatre with me in it on October first. You must sell it
+ to him. He will make you a good offer. You can't use it without me,
+ and I want him to produce it. Please see him immediately. You know
+ that you owe your reputation as a producer to me, and don't be
+ selfish. I'll expect you up on the evening train to talk over the
+ final arrangements. I'll meet you in the runabout and we can go
+ out to the Beach Inn for dinner. Bring me some brandied marrons, a
+ large bottle of rose oil and a stick of lip rouge from Celeste's.
+
+ Hurriedly,
+
+ VIOLET.
+
+ July fifth.
+
+ P. S. Of course you are to go on loving me just as usual. I
+ couldn't do without that. How much money have I in the
+ Knickerbocker Trust?
+
+After Godfrey Vandeford had read the last violent purple line on violet,
+he dropped the letter on his desk and looked out of his office window
+with serious eyes that gazed without seeing, down the long canyon of
+Broadway, up and down which rushed traffic composed of green cars shaped
+like torpedoes, honking, darting motors, skulking trucks and jostling,
+tangled people. Flamboyant signs, waving flags, and gilt-lettered window
+panes made a Persian glow in a belt space up from the seething sidewalks
+to the sky line, and above it all the roar and din rose to high heaven.
+But Godfrey Vandeford was blind to it all and deaf, as he sat and
+brooded above the furious landscape. His blue eyes, set deep back under
+their black, gray-splashed brows, failed to take in the lurid spectacle,
+and his narrow, lean face was flushed under the bronze it had acquired
+for keeps from the suns of many climes. His lean, powerful body seemed
+fairly crouched in thought. Once he shifted one leg across the other,
+and as he settled back in his chair he tossed the violet letter over to
+Mr. Meyers without seeming to know that he did so. Then he plunged back
+into his absorption without seeing his henchman read rapidly through the
+missive, look at him once with a gem-like keenness, and again begin to
+read the purple-covered manuscript.
+
+"And we picked her out of a vaudeville gutter over beyond Weehawken just
+five years ago, Pop," Mr. Vandeford finally interrupted the flip of the
+manuscript pages to say, with a deep musing in his flexible, sympathetic
+voice.
+
+"You taught her to eat with the knife and the fork," growled Mr. Meyers
+from behind his violet barricade as he ripped over another page.
+"Mick!"
+
+"Oh, not as bad as that, Pop," laughed Mr. Vandeford, with a glance of
+affection at the young Hebrew delving in the corner for a jewel for him.
+"She's just--oh, well, they are all children--and have to be spanked.
+She wants to sell me out to Weiner after I've spent five nice, good
+years in building her into a little twinkle star, but I don't think it
+will be good for her to let her do it. I'll have to use the slipper on
+her, I'm afraid. I believe in hunches and I believe I'll just use that
+purple manuscript you're chewing to let her set her teeth in. She needs
+one good failure to tone her up. What's the name of the effusion in
+ribbons?"
+
+"The Renunciation of Rosalind," murmured Mr. Meyers, as he bent once
+more to the pages which he had been reading with eagerness when
+interrupted by his chief.
+
+"We could call it 'The Purple Slipper.' About what will the cast
+figure?"
+
+"Three thousand per week if you use Gerald Height at five hundred as per
+contract with him. But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I would say for a play this
+is--"
+
+"That's not much money to waste on a purple hunch. A nice, judicious,
+little second-hand staging out of the warehouse and a few weeks' road
+try-out for the failure will cost about ten thousand. I'll let Denny
+have five thousand worth of fun mussing around with it to cut his eye
+teeth, and then we'll clap Violet into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' weeping
+with gratitude to have her face saved after being slapped first. Get the
+parts out to-morrow and you and Chambers begin to cast it. I'll see
+actors here from three to five Friday. I'll open it September tenth. Now
+I've got to go and chase those confounded marrons. The last I took were
+put up in maraschino and were not welcomed. I'll be in the office--"
+
+"And about the author, Mr. Vandeford, and the contracts?" questioned Mr.
+Meyers, with both dismay and energy in his voice.
+
+"Oh, I forgot about the author. She won't amount to much. A woman, I
+judge, from the ribbons. Offer the usual five, rising to seven and a
+half royalties, and explain carefully that you mean five per cent. on
+the box office receipts under five thousand, and seven and a half on all
+over that. Also go into the moving picture rights and second companies
+with your usual honesty, but offer her only a two hundred and fifty
+advance to cover a two years' option. She won't know that it ought to be
+five hundred for six months, and what she doesn't know won't hurt her.
+Besides, it will all be over for her and her play before October."
+
+"She says in the letter which was pinned to the first page of the play,
+that the article about you in the 'Times Magazine' made her know that
+you were the one producer to whom she could trust her play," said Mr.
+Meyers, reading from a neat little cream-white note in his hand.
+
+"Sweet child!" murmured Mr. Vandeford, as he took up his hat and stick.
+"Don't encourage her in any way in your letter, Pop. We don't want her
+rushing to the scene of action when we butcher her child. Pay the two
+thousand to Hilliard for the option on 'The Rosie Posie Girl' until
+January first, and tell him I am going to produce it in November. 'Phone
+me at Highcliff to-morrow if you want me. I'll be clearing the deck for
+the--spanking."
+
+"I wish you good luck," said Mr. Meyers feelingly.
+
+"What do you judge that play is about from reading the first act, and
+what is the author's name? I might have to produce a little concrete
+information in the fracas," the eminent producer paused to inquire just
+as he was closing the door.
+
+"It is written by a Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky, and it
+has in plenty of ruffles and romance that is in a past time of a
+Colonial Governor and his wife alone at home with him in Washington."
+
+"That sounds about right for the weapon of castigation for Violet
+Hawtry, _nee_ Murphy. I have always believed in hunches, and that
+accord in color was meant to mean something. Better send me a copy
+special in the morning. If Mr. Farraday calls me before I get him tell
+him the Astor at one to-day. What did I say? Marrons, lip stick, and--"
+
+"Rose oil," prompted Mr. Meyers, with just the trace of a sneer in his
+voice.
+
+"Right O! Rose oil it is. By!" And the door closed on Mr. Vandeford's
+graceful figure in its gray London tweeds.
+
+Thus a great adventure was undertaken in all levity. And with his
+chief's complete departure a change came into the mien of Mr. Adolph
+Meyers. He told the stenographer in the outer office to engage two girls
+to copy a play that afternoon and evening, to keep him from being
+interrupted until six, and to muffle the telephone unless in cases of
+emergency. Then he seated himself in Mr. Vandeford's deep chair, put his
+feet on the desk, lit a fat, black cigar and plunged into "The Purple
+Slipper," _nee_ "The Renunciation of Rosalind." For two hours he read
+with the deepest absorption, only pausing to make an occasional note on
+a pad at his elbow. Then after he had laid down the manuscript with its
+purple wrappings and ribbons, he sat for a half hour in a trance, out of
+which he came to seat himself at the typewriter to indite a portentous
+letter, which he put in an envelope, sealed and directed to:
+
+ MISS PATRICIA ADAIR,
+
+ Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+The contents were:
+
+ _My dear Madam:_
+
+ I have carefully read your play entitled "The Renunciation of
+ Rosalind," and have decided to make you the following offer for the
+ production rights. I will give you two hundred and fifty dollars
+ for all rights of production, including moving picture rights and
+ supplementary road companies to extend over a period of two years
+ from the date of signing the contract, and will agree to pay you in
+ addition five per cent. of all box receipts up to five thousand per
+ week and seven and a half on all exceeding that sum. If you agree
+ to this proposition, I will send you a formal contract covering all
+ points in legal terms. Please let me know at your earliest
+ convenience your decision about the matter, as I now intend to
+ produce it in September with Violet Hawtry in the title role.
+
+ Believe me, my dear Madam,
+
+ Very truly,
+
+ GODFREY VANDEFORD.
+
+The above epistle from a strange outer world found Miss Patricia Adair,
+attired in a faded gingham frock, planting snap beans in her ancestral
+garden. It was delivered to her by her brother, Mr. Roger Adair, from
+the hip pocket of his khaki trousers, upon which were large smudges of
+the agricultural profession. His blue gingham shirt was open at the
+throat across a strong bronze throat, and his eyes were as blue as his
+shirt and laughed out across big brown freckles that matched his
+chestnut hair.
+
+"Here's a letter I brought over from the post-office, Pat, along with a
+sack of meal and fifty cents' worth of sugar. Mr. Bates said Miss Elvira
+Henderson stopped in and told him to send it to you by the first person
+coming your way," he said as he threw the reins of the filly, whose
+chestnut coat matched his hair exactly, over the gate post, and
+proceeded to take from the pommel of the saddle the two bundles of
+groceries mentioned. "Mr. Bates sent you this bunch of tomato plants and
+head lettuce to set out along the back border of your rose beds, and
+I'll spade it all up for you right now if--"
+
+"Oh, Roger, listen, listen!" exclaimed Patricia, as she sprang to her
+feet from her knees upon which she had rested as she read the letter he
+had handed her. "My play, my play, it's sold!" And as she sparkled at
+him over the letter of Mr. Adolph Meyers held clasped to her gingham
+bosom, wild roses bloomed in her cheeks and tears sparkled in her gray
+eyes back of their thick black lashes.
+
+"What play?" demanded Roger, stolid with astonishment.
+
+"The one I wrote last month and the month before, when Mr. Covington
+said that the mortgage must be paid--or give up Rosemeade. I knew it
+would kill Grandfather to move him away from the house he was born in,
+and I couldn't think of anything that would get money quick but coal oil
+wells and gold mines and plays. It costs money to dig up oil and gold,
+but it is easy to write a play."
+
+"Oh, is it?" Roger questioned, with a twinkle in his eyes above the
+freckles. In his arms he still held the meal and the sugar, and his
+interest was an inspiration to Patricia to pour out the whole story in a
+torrent of tumbling words.
+
+"You know those love letters I have of our great grandmother's that she
+wrote to her husband while he was in Washington consulting the President
+about the first constitutional convention, the ones about the Indian
+raid and the battle at Shawnee. You remember the day I read them to you
+up in the apple tree in the orchard years ago, don't you?"
+
+"Yes, I remember the day," answered Roger, with another twinkle turned
+inward at the memory of his seventeen-year-old scorn of Patricia's
+eleven-year-old sentimentality.
+
+"Well, those letters are the play," announced Patricia triumphantly. "I
+read a lot of Shakespeare and other old English dramas I found in
+Grandfather's library to see exactly how to make one. It ends when he
+comes back expecting to find her killed and she is dancing at a dinner
+she has given her lover as a bet that he would come back by that night.
+It's wonderful!" As she thus laid bare the skeleton of her play child,
+Patricia took from doubting Roger the sack of sugar.
+
+"Shoo, that's not a play," hooted Roger, with a decided return of his
+seventeen-year-old scorn in his thirtieth summer.
+
+"Read that," answered Patricia with dignity, as she handed him Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford's letter, written and signed by Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Whew--uh, Pat, two hundred and fifty dollars!" Roger exclaimed, as his
+manner dissolved quickly from affectionate derision into respectful awe.
+
+"Oh, that's just a trifle for a beginning; those royalties may be worth
+several hundred thousand. In the 'Times Magazine' article that I read
+about Godfrey Vandeford and his plays, it said he had paid the author of
+'Dear Geraldine' more than a hundred thousand dollars in royalties. That
+is what made me write the play."
+
+"Say, let me take it sitting down," said Roger as he sank upon the grass
+beside a rose bed that had a row of spring onions growing odoriferously
+defiant under the very shower of its petals, and laid the sack of
+precious meal tenderly across his knees. "Now go on and tell me."
+
+"You see, Roger, I had to do something to get the money to keep the
+house for Grandfather. You know we couldn't get any more mortgage money,
+because it had closed up or something, and--"
+
+"Did Covington tell you he was going to foreclose after I--that is,
+right away?" demanded Roger fiercely, with a snap in the blue eyes above
+the freckles.
+
+"No," said Patricia, as she settled herself on the grass beside Roger,
+with the valuable sugar balanced tenderly upon her knee. "He told me
+that he would let it stand just as it was for three months until October
+first, but after that we would have to--to tell--Grandfather and move,"
+a quiver came into Patricia's soft voice that had in it the patrician,
+slurring softness that can only come from the throat of a grand dame
+sprung from the race which has dominated blue-grass pastures. "Doctor
+Healy says it won't be long but--but now he'll--he'll die in his own
+home that Grandmother built where he fought off the Indians. Her play
+has saved us."
+
+"I had fixed it to run until I make my crops," said Roger, with a choke
+in his voice that was a rich masculine accompaniment to Patricia's.
+
+"The play will have been running six weeks by that time, and I can pay
+most of it off. A hundred thousand a year is almost ten thousand a month
+and--"
+
+"But all plays don't succeed, Pat, honey, and--"
+
+"The 'Times Magazine' said that Godfrey Vandeford had never had a
+failure, and didn't you read that he wants to star Violet Hawtry in it?
+She was 'Dear Geraldine.' How could it fail?" Patricia was positively
+haughty toward Roger's timorousness.
+
+"That's so," admitted Roger, convinced. "And we can easy get by on the
+two fifty until October, especially with the garden I am going to raise.
+I'm no Godfrey Vandeford, but I'm a first-class producer--of potatoes
+and onions and cabbage and turnip greens and corn. In these war times a
+potato producer ranks with any old producer."
+
+"But I won't be able to leave all of the two hundred and fifty to use
+this summer. I'll have to take some of it with me."
+
+"With you where?" demanded Roger.
+
+"To New York. Do you suppose even Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would undertake
+to produce a play without the author there to help him?" Patricia's
+scorn of Roger's lack of sound reasoning about theatrical matters was
+hurled at him pitilessly.
+
+"Of course not," admitted Roger hurriedly. "You can take the whole two
+hundred and fifty and I'll look after the Major and Jeff."
+
+"I don't know what I'd do without you, Roger," said Patricia, as she
+cuddled her cheek for an instant against his strong, warm shoulder under
+the gingham shirt. "I'm afraid of New York. I know you'll take care of
+Grandfather; but who'll look after little me--I don't know what I'll do
+all by myself. Maybe I won't have to--"
+
+"Certainly you'll have to go," Roger interrupted with comforting
+assurance. "Go to the Young Women's Christian Association, and if
+anything happens to you telegraph me and I'll come get you."
+
+"I hadn't thought of the Y. W. C. A. Of course I'll be all right there.
+I'll get Miss Elvira to write a special letter to the secretary about
+me," exclaimed Patricia with the joy lights back in the great, gray
+eyes. "And it's so cheap there that I can leave a lot of the money at
+home. I'll only be gone about six weeks."
+
+"No, I think you had better take all the two fifty with you," said
+Roger. "You know you have to spend money to make money and you mustn't
+be short. I'll look after the Major and Jeff. Don't you worry, dear."
+
+"Will you let me buy you a big silo and a tractor plow when I get all
+the money? You are the greatest farmer in the world and you only need a
+little machinery to prove it." Again the young playwright rose to her
+knees and with letter and sugar in her embrace she entreated to be
+allowed to spend the money that was to be hers from "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," which she did not know was being cast in New York as "The
+Purple Slipper."
+
+"Certainly I'll let you help me, Pat. Hasn't what's yours and mine
+always been ours since we set our first hen together?" laughed Roger, as
+he rose to his feet and dragged Patricia to hers beside him. "Come on
+and let's break it to the Major. You may need me to stand by if it hits
+him on the bias," and they both laughed with a tinge of uneasiness as
+they went down the long walk of the garden which on both sides was
+sprouting and leaving and perfuming in a medley of flowers and
+vegetables.
+
+As they walked slowly along Roger cast an eye of great satisfaction over
+the long lines of rapidly maturing peas and beans and heavy-leaved
+potatoes, and in his mind calculated that a year's food for the small
+family at Rosemeade was being produced right at their door under his
+skilful hoe which he wielded at off times when he could leave the negro
+hands to their work out on Rosemeade, their ancestral five hundred acres
+of blue-grass meadows and loamy fields. Roger had for the summer quit
+his slowly growing law practice in Adairville, enlisted as a doughty
+Captain in the Army of the Furrows and was as proud of his khaki and
+gingham uniform with their loam smudges as of his diploma from the
+University of Virginia which hung in the wide old hall, the top one in a
+succession of five given from father to son of the house of Adair. The
+whole county was farming under the direction of Roger, and he had been
+obliged often to work Patricia's garden by moonlight.
+
+"I'm almost afraid to tell Grandfather," Patricia interrupted his food
+calculations to say as they came around the corner of the wide-roofed
+old brick house with its traceries of vines that massed at the eaves to
+give nesting for many doves, and beheld the Major seated in his arm
+chair on the porch which was guarded and supported by round, white
+pillars around which a rose vine festooned itself. A faded, plaid wool
+rug was across the Major's knees in spite of the fact that the evening
+was so warm, and about his shoulders was a wide, gray knitted scarf. A
+bent, white-haired old negro stood beside him filling his pipe for him
+and serving as a target for the words issuing from beneath his waxed
+white mustache that gave the impression of crossed white swords.
+
+"War! What do they know about war, Jeff? We killed our first Yankee
+before we were seventeen, and now they fight behind guns located six
+miles away by squinting through double-decker opera glasses. War, I say
+in these days--"
+
+"Yes, sir," assented Jeff, in soothing interruption of what he
+considered debilitating heat in the Major's words. "We whipped them
+Yankees in no time but they jest didn't find it out in time to stop
+killing us 'fore it all ended. Now, I'm going to help you to your room
+and make you comfortable for I--"
+
+"I see Patricia and Roger approaching and I'll wait to talk to them for
+a few minutes, Jeff," answered the Major with a slight note of entreaty
+in his voice.
+
+"Jess a little while, then, jess a little while," consented the old
+black comrade nurse as he shuffled into the house and back to his
+kitchen to complete his preparation of the simple evening meal for his
+little household. As he crisped his bacon, scrambled his eggs and
+browned his muffins he muttered to himself:
+
+"He's gitting weaker every day--help him Lord, and me to keep care of
+him."
+
+Just as he was turning the fluffy yellow scramble into a hot, old silver
+dish he paused and listened to the musketry of the Major's deep voice
+which was huge even in weakness, then he shook his head and began to
+hustle the food together to be able to use the announcement of the meal
+as an interruption to the harmful excitement, whose scattering words he
+was at a loss to understand.
+
+"Impossible! Impossible that my granddaughter should barter and trade in
+the theatrical world, a world into which no lady should ever set foot.
+No! Do not argue, Patricia! Roger and I understand, and it is not
+needful that you should," were the words of the assault and
+counter-charge that so puzzled old Jeff over his skillet and baker.
+
+"I'm not going to act in the play, Grandfather. I wrote it and I'm going
+to show them how I want it acted and then come right home," soothed
+Patricia, looking to Roger for help and reinforcement.
+
+"She'll stay at the Young Women's Christian Association, Major, and
+she'll be perfectly safe. I am going to write to Dennis Farraday, who
+graduated with me at the University, and ask him to look after her if
+she needs anything."
+
+"Ah, that puts another face on the matter," said the Major, with a
+degree of mollification coming into his keen, old face and weakly
+booming voice. "Of course, the Adairs have always been geniuses of one
+kind or another, and it is not surprising that my granddaughter should
+have produced a great American Drama. If she has the interest and
+protection of a gentleman who is a friend of her brother's, and a safe
+retreat in a woman's organization I will have to permit her to
+superintend the placing of her great work before an appreciative public.
+Of course, she will not be thrown with any of the theatrical world
+socially, and in a few weeks she will return to her own home, leaving
+that world better for having had a brief glimpse of her. You may go,
+Patricia. Jefferson!" Fatigue showed very decidedly in the Major's weak
+call to the old negro, who came immediately and rolled his chair away
+with an indignant cast of his eyes at the two young people.
+
+"Wh-eugh, that was a battle, and if I hadn't thought of old Denny to
+bring up as a support to the Young Women's Christian Association I think
+it would have sure gone the other way." And Roger laughed with the
+twinkle above the freckles as he leaned against the rose vine around the
+pillar and fanned himself with his hat.
+
+"_Is_ there any Denny?" questioned Patricia weakly, from the top step
+upon which she had sunk when the Major was wheeled away.
+
+"Certainly, and he's a jolly good fellow," answered Roger. "I had a
+letter from him year before last. I'll write him all about everything
+and he'll look after you for me. I'd trust Denny to do his best for me
+if I hadn't seen him for fifty years. I lived with him our Junior and
+Senior years and I know him. But I must go. I have to go back to the
+grocery again to get a plow point."
+
+"Please don't go until after supper," pleaded Patricia. "I want to think
+out loud to you. It has just struck me that I will have to have some
+clothes. What will I do about it? I can't go to New York in a gingham
+dress."
+
+"In such a crisis as that I think Miss Elvira will be a better target
+for your thoughts than I can be. I'll stop and tell her the news and
+send her over," teased Roger with his engaging twinkle.
+
+"I can't think to anybody like I can to you," said Patricia, as she came
+and stood beside him.
+
+"I really have to go, honey child, to see about the ploughing in my
+South meadow, but I'll come back to be in the finish of the dimity
+confab," answered Roger, as he patted Patricia on the shoulder and went
+rapidly away.
+
+And a dimity confab was a good name for the conference that was held in
+the July moonlight on the front porch of Rosemeade for several silvered
+hours that night. Miss Elvira Henderson, modiste, who was the guide,
+philosopher and friend, in the matter of costuming as well as in all
+other matters, of the feminine population of Hillcrest, had hurried down
+the street to the Rosemeade gate as soon as she had consumed her
+spinster baked apple and toast supper, and on her way had collected
+pretty Mamie Lou Whitson and progressive Jenny Kinkaid, who formed a
+thrilled chorus to her interested and joyful conversation with
+Patricia.
+
+"The eyes of the world will be on you, Patricia, and nothing short of a
+silk tailor suit will be suitable for you to wear to sustain yourself in
+such a position," declared Miss Elvira, with a positive degree of
+finality in her voice.
+
+"And you'll have to have at least three evening dresses, Pat, for that
+same article about Mr. Godfrey Vandeford said that Broadway only woke up
+at night. And you know it said he was the best known man on Broadway. Of
+course, he'll take you to lots of Cafes and dances, and midnight frolics
+and--and things," bubbled Mamie Lou very unwisely.
+
+"Patricia is to stay at The Young Women's Christian Association, and I
+am sure they will expect her to be in bed before any midnight
+foolishness," said Miss Elvira, with a severe glance at the frivolous
+Mamie Lou. "I shall, of course, make her an evening dress or two, one
+especially to wear when the multitude calls her before the curtain to
+express their admiration of and enthusiasm over her play, but I shall
+trust Patricia not to let them lead her into any undue frivolity. The
+theatres all close at eleven o'clock."
+
+"The article said that was the time that Broadway woke up, and--" Jenny
+began, as she hid behind Mamie Lou as if expecting a volley from Miss
+Elvira. But Miss Elvira was too much absorbed to notice her in any way.
+Miss Elvira was also in the throes of conceptive genius.
+
+"The last 'Woman's Review' had a colored plate of a suit that I can see
+on you, Patricia," she mused under her breath. "It was queer blue,
+with--"
+
+"In that big trunk of your great grandmother's up in the garret there's
+a blue silk that she wore in Washington that is that curious new blue
+color, Pat, and a lot more of--" Mamie Lou was saying with great
+executive ability when Miss Elvira seized on her idea and made it her
+own with the avidity of real genius.
+
+"We'll make over all of old Madam Adair's dresses for you, Patricia,"
+she decreed.
+
+"They've always been kept kind of sacred and--" Patricia began to
+remonstrate with uncertainty in her voice.
+
+"And rightly so--but at the presentation of her play it is proper for
+them to emerge," Miss Elvira further decreed. "Get a lamp and let's go
+look at them and decide to-night," she further commanded.
+
+And from the result of that resurrection in the garret of Rosemeade,
+Adairville, Kentucky, later Broadway, even Fifth Avenue, New York, got a
+decided and unwonted thrill.
+
+"The clothes are all right, Roger. Miss Elvira is going to make me a lot
+out of great-grandmother's clothes she wore in Washington to dance with
+Lafayette," Patricia confided to Roger as they stood under the rose vine
+in the moonlight at the late hour of ten-thirty that evening after she
+had helped him transplant a lot of sturdy tomato vines.
+
+"Little old New York will sit up and take notice when it sees you in
+party dimity, Pat," he said as he smiled down into the eager, gray eyes
+that were raised to his, beaming through their long black lashes.
+
+"Oh, I hope I'll make friends, Roger," Patricia answered the warmth in
+his voice as she clung to the warmth and strength of his arm as if in
+foreboding.
+
+"Of course New York will love you, Pat. Hasn't everybody always loved
+you?" he asked tenderly as he put his work-worn hand over hers on his
+arm.
+
+"Yes," answered Patricia, with her head suddenly held high. "If anybody
+don't like me, I'll make them."
+
+At about the same hour that this challenge to his world was flung from
+the lips of the beautiful and talented Miss Patricia Adair upon the
+moonlit and mockingbird trilled air of the Bluegrass State Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford was engaged in about the twenty-fifth round of the spanking of
+Miss Violet Hawtry in the State of New York, and he was having a hard
+time accomplishing his purpose.
+
+"It's just like your selfishness to try to put me into a piffling play
+by some unknown author with every risk to be run, when Weiner wants to
+buy your contract and put me into 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' which is a
+play by Hilliard that gives me scope for all of my ability. He is
+willing to give you a fifth interest in it and that's all you deserve.
+I'll show you whether or not you can sacrifice my career,
+you ----! ----! ----! you!" And with which tirade the beautiful Violet
+stormed up and down the veranda of Highcliff in front of the supine
+figure of her manager, which was clad in immaculate white flannel, suede
+and linen, with a blue silk scarf knotted at the base of his lean,
+bronze throat, which matched the blue of his keen eyes under their
+gray-sprinkled brows, as the only bit of color in his irreproachable
+costuming.
+
+"You've read neither play, my dear Violet. You may like 'The Purple
+Slipper.' In which case you get the same salary and I get all the
+profits instead of the one-fifth our friend Weiner is offering me for
+letting you act in my other play," he answered his star's outburst in an
+easy, mollifying drawl.
+
+"Everybody knows that a Hilliard play is a _play_, and I'm not going to
+try out a new playwright just to put money in your pockets. Why should
+I?" demanded the star virago, in a fury that made her snapping Irish
+blue eyes, tall, strapping, curved body, and pale tawny hair combine
+into a good semblance of the jungle queen on a prey quest.
+
+"No reason except your contract entered into in all lawfulness,"
+answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "You know what the Courts are, and if
+you like I'll meet you there and fight it out instead of by these
+sounding sea waves in this delicious moonlight. Come here and kiss me
+and do let our lawyers settle it all for us." As he spoke he rose lazily
+and attempted to take the taut young cat into a pair of listlessly
+desirous arms.
+
+"Not on your life you big loafer, you, just because you put one over me
+when I was a starved stage door drab don't think I am that same kind or
+that sort of thing goes with me now." She spit the words at him as she
+half yielded to his nonchalant embrace and half repulsed it.
+
+"Be accurate, Violet, my dear: did I demand your heart until I had
+managed you and my own affairs to the point where you could buy
+Highcliff or any other trifles you wanted? There are other ladies to
+love in the world besides you, aren't there? There are other gentlemen
+besides me and you've had five years--and a wide hunting grounds. I've
+got you under only one contract--business and not--pleasure."
+
+"God, I don't know whether I love or hate you most," were the words of
+the conciliating purr that he got as she turned to put herself back
+under his caressing.
+
+"Hate, I wager," he laughed softly, as he drew away from her and seated
+himself on the railing of the veranda which hung out over the old ocean
+so that its hungry waves seemed to be leaping up to engulf him. The gray
+peaks and gable of the Hawtry cottage massed themselves back of him and
+in the silvering moonlight he looked like a white eagle perched on an
+eyrie.
+
+"Don't make me play that play; give me over to Weiner," the star of many
+such an encounter as well of "Dear Geraldine" coaxed, as she followed
+him and put bare, white, glistening arms around his neck and attempted
+to draw his head down against a bosom that still tossed with the storm
+of anger that she had put out of voice and face. "You know how last year
+nobody could get a theatre for love or money, and the producers who
+owned theatres put on all the plays and coined money. It will be worse
+next year. You have no theatre and Weiner has three. He offers to let us
+open the New Carnival. It'll be a sure thing; while your play will have
+to take its chance for a New York theatre and maybe get none. Please,
+Godfrey!"
+
+"Well, you see I had agreed to let Dennis Farraday in on this play, and
+it would sell him out to Weiner too," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he very
+gently but determinedly took the white arms from around his neck and
+refused the pillow of the storming breast.
+
+"Dennis Farraday?" Violet asked, and Mr. Vandeford shot a quick glance
+of question at her as he felt the tautening of the muscles in the white
+arms that he had in his grasp of untangling. "You are not going to trim
+him, are you?"
+
+"No, not if you make a hit in 'The Purple Slipper,' answered Mr.
+Vandeford, as he gave her another appraising glance while he lit a
+cigarette.
+
+"Has he read the play?"
+
+"He's putting his money on Hawtry in a play of Vandeford's selecting and
+producing," was the slap administered with the soft drawl. And as he
+slapped he watched the reaction.
+
+"What did you do with that copy of the play that fellow Dolph sent out
+this morning?" was what he got with an entire change of purpose in the
+beautiful, stormy face that had calmed in an instant.
+
+"It's in your room on the table by your bed," answered Mr. Vandeford, as
+he rose, stretched, yawned and in other ways indicated his desire for
+sleep in the primitive manner that a man uses in the bosom of his
+family.
+
+"I'm going to read it if you don't mind," the Violet said with a smile
+of pleasure instead of the frown of anger which had so lately rested on
+her fair face. Mr. Vandeford laughed inwardly; she was about as
+transparent as a very young kitten in its eagerness for a saucer of
+cream.
+
+"Good girl," answered Godfrey, as together they entered the dark house.
+Together they climbed the steps, and with a kiss executed by the Violet
+he left her to turn into the door of her room while he went on to his
+just beyond.
+
+Out of her sight the lazy, care-free manner left his lithe body, and in
+an instant every muscle stiffened to action. The smoulder of anger in
+his eyes blazed. He looked at his watch.
+
+"Thirty-five minutes to catch that eleven-fifteen train to town. Never
+again. I'm done!" he murmured and looked about him at his belongings
+strewn around his room. "I'll send Dolph out to pack to-morrow. A jump
+into tweeds and a sprint down the beach will make it."
+
+And after vigorously suiting his actions to his words for twenty minutes
+he was running swiftly down the beach well ahead of the time of the
+eleven-fifteen train. Just as the headlight cast a red ray down the long
+track he stepped on the platform and in ten seconds more he was being
+whirled away from the moonlight and sands and white arms, having
+accomplished his purpose of the spanking, cut forever chains that
+galled, and was well content with himself and the world.
+
+Back at Highcliff the beautiful Violet had been undergoing the rites of
+retirement, assisted by her very well-skilled maid, deep in an exciting
+dream of conquest. As she let her soft, perfumed, silken garments be
+taken from her one at a time until her pearly body was exposed to the
+brisk sea air, for which tonic Susette had thrown wide both broad
+windows, she was weighing in her shrewd little gutter-gamin mind the
+advantages of the road to the right against the turn to the left. The
+Hilliard "Rosie Posie Girl" in the fall produced by Weiner with all his
+trained staff, command of a big new theatre and three others, and
+following road prestige appealed strongly to her cupidity, which had
+been well trained in getting dimes from tight pockets in cheap cafes and
+ten, twenty and thirty theatres, but she had seen a grouping of Dennis
+Farraday's name in the paper a few days ago with the names of some young
+New York multimillionaires in a National Commission, and she knew that
+he and his "pile" were worthy of the effort of her charms. Also she had
+seen big, broad, breezy, gallant Dennis himself at luncheon with Mr.
+Vandeford in the Astor not ten days before, and her designs had been
+decidedly set in his direction. To her thinking, big, broad, breezy,
+gallant men were always easy. As Susette enveloped her rosiness from the
+sea air in a soft white cloud of chiffon and embroidery, removed the
+rose mules from her feet, helped her in between the fragrant linen
+sheets that were as soft as rich silk, threw over her a rose-colored
+puff of silk and lace and down, turned on her reading lamp, upon whose
+shade wanton fauns and nymphs sported, piled her pillows high and left
+her, the scales were about going down on the side in which was placed
+"The Purple Slipper," Mr. Dennis Farraday--and Miss Patricia Adair, who
+at that time was the unknown quantity which Fate often throws in any
+balance.
+
+With a luxurious sigh and flexing of her long, supple body the Violet
+picked up the business-like copy of the Violet manuscript which Mr.
+Adolph Meyers had sent her instead of the beribboned, purple
+"Renunciation of Rosalind," and began to read the first page when the
+telephone beside her bed rang with a soft tinkle. She picked up the
+ivory receiver and into it murmured a softly tentative:
+
+"Yes?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, Mr. Farraday! How are you?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Violet Hawtry."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Deliciously well, thank you."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, he's here, but the gay young thing has gone to bed hours ago."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Most interesting for me, but I have to submit."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, lovely. Do come. I'll adore having him routed out for you. Of
+course we'll go with you. I had forgot that Simone was to dance at the
+Beach Inn to-night."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No indeed, I have not undressed at all. I was going to study a part
+to-night."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I'm sure Godfrey can be dressed in half an hour, and it will take even
+your Surreness that time to get here. Take the beach road; it's fine.
+Good-by then. In half an hour."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+With which ending and beginning the Violet hung up the ivory receiver
+and rang for Susette. The summons was answered by Mrs. Aline Hawtry,
+_nee_ Maggie Murphy the first, an embarrassing but in a manner cherished
+relict of the Hawtry past life in Weehawken.
+
+"Sure, and the little Frinchy is a-bed, Mag! What be ye wanting? The
+night is after sneaking out the back door of the morning." Mrs. Hawtry,
+once Murphy, was a big bonny edition of the Violet grown into a cabbage
+rose and her voice was also of the same rich texture.
+
+"Rout out Godfrey, Ma, and then stir up Susette with a hot stick. Mr.
+Dennis Farraday is coming down to take us over to see Simone dance at
+the Beach Inn. I want him to see me instead of Simone. Hurry!"
+
+"The poor dear boy, after a hard day in the cruel hot city. Alack!"
+moaned Mrs. Maggie as she billowed across to Mr. Vandeford's door and
+knocked. Then she paused and knocked again. From neither knock did she
+receive an answer as the moment was just about the one in which he had
+boarded the New York bound train a half mile up the beach down which Mr.
+Dennis Farraday was racing.
+
+When a search of the unresponsive room had convinced the Violet of his
+flight, for a moment her eyes were stormy, then her face cleared with a
+smile of delight, and as she padded back to her room and the waiting
+Susette, to herself she purred:
+
+"Nobody can beat my luck."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+
+There is a certain kind of man over whom all other men smile inwardly.
+The tone of voice in which they speak of him has an affectionate growl,
+which, once heard, cannot be mistaken. Such a man is apt to cherish what
+other men call "impossible ideals about women," and it behooves his
+masculine friends to watch out for him carefully lest he come a cropper.
+Mr. Dennis Farraday was such a man among men, and Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+loved him deeply. They had met when they were both twenty-three, on
+board a tramp steamer, bound for adventure in South Africa, and in the
+seven years that had elapsed since then they had spent periods of time
+together, in various kinds of sports. Killing time on Broadway was about
+the only sport that they had not tried together. By very solid banking
+and brokering Mr. Vandeford enjoyed and increased for himself and an
+aristocratic, Knickerbocker-descended mother a few ancestral millions.
+Incidentally, he took care of the sole hundred thousand dollars of which
+Mr. Vandeford's high financiering on Broadway had left him possessed.
+Mr. Farraday and Mrs. Justus Farraday represented the sole family ties
+possessed by Mr. Vandeford, and he considered them both most valuable.
+In fact, the maternal regard of Mrs. Justus Farraday was looked upon by
+Mr. Vandeford as his chief treasure and sheet-anchor in times of the
+high winds of life.
+
+"What makes you do it, Van?" questioned Mr. Farraday, as he sat with Mr.
+Vandeford in the early morning in the latter's rooms after the tumult of
+the first night of the unsuccessful "Miss Cut-up."
+
+"Excitement," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he put his bare heels,
+protruding from his Chinese slippers, up on the edge of the mahogany
+reading-table in his living-room, and began to pull at a long,
+evil-smelling, briar pipe. "Nothing like it."
+
+"Do you really care for all that noise, those explosions of chorus
+girls, sweating stage hands, cursing director and cursing star, paint,
+powder, electricity, paper walls and furniture, call-bells and
+hand-clapping from boozy critics in front?"
+
+"I do," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, with a glint in his eyes deep
+back in his head. "And so would you if you had bet about twenty thousand
+on that combination and could see the people begin to eat it up right
+before your eyes as you sat in a box and watched 'em. When you've backed
+your own combination of inferno on riot, it gives you a thrill to stand
+before the box-office and watch a line of people that stretches to the
+next block plunk down dollars that they have earned at their own
+particular combinations of life to see the combination you have made of
+yours. Why, tears come into my eyes when I see some little, old,
+dried-up seamstress pay a dollar to sit in the roost to see Gerald
+Height love the powder off of Violet while she is cursing him under her
+breath for so doing, and it tickles me under my ribs to see some fat,
+jolly, lonely, old party buy a front seat two days hand-running to sit
+and watch Mazie Villines dance over her own head and take the child out
+to supper afterward in all propriety. It does him good all over after
+selling white goods in Squeedunck, Illinois, eleven and three-quarter
+months of every year. It's all to the good, Denny, and I wish you could
+get the drag of it."
+
+"Perhaps it would be well if I could," agreed Mr. Farraday, as he rose
+and shook his big, lithe body with the agility of a frolicsome puppy who
+knows he is going into mischief, and looked cautiously at Godfrey. "Is
+backing the life of the Violet sport, too?" he ventured.
+
+"Best I know. Took nothing and made it into something in five years. If
+it bites my hand that's all in the game."
+
+"Same force could beget and train about eleven small Vandefords into
+pretty good American citizens," Mr. Farraday snapped out, and then
+backed away.
+
+"Absinthe cocktails ruin the taste for sweet milk. Don't talk about
+things you know nothing about; thank God for that same ignorance," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded. "Go to bed and sleep like the cherub you are, while
+I expiate here with my pipe."
+
+From that conversation it was natural to man nature that the demand for
+a half-interest in the next Hawtry show would have been made by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and acceded to with the
+brotherly reservations already related. The eye-teeth of Mr. Dennis
+Farraday were very precious to Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and he had the
+intention of taking great care that their edges should not be dulled. It
+was well that he did not know that the eleven-fifteen train he had taken
+in his flight to New York passed the huge, eight-cylinder Surreness of
+his beloved Jonathan in its race up the beach for the home of the
+Violet.
+
+Now, when all is said and considered, a large admiration is due and much
+should be forgiven Miss Violet Hawtry, who, as half-starved Maggie
+Murphy, had darted out of the gutter into the back stage-door at the age
+of fifteen, snapped her huge violet eyes with their fringes of black,
+trilled a vulgar, Irish street song in accompaniment to sundry
+provocative swayings of her lissome, maturing young body, and thus had
+made enough impression on her world to hang on by the tips of her
+fingers until she dropped into the outstretched arms of Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford, who was prowling around Weehawken and the vicinity for just
+such ripe fruit as she when he was casting his first musical girl-show
+for the purpose of some violent excitement after a snowed-in winter in
+the Klondike.
+
+He had taken her to an old stage-mother he knew, had her thoroughly
+washed, combed, manicured, dressed, schooled, and had given her the
+benefit of his respect for five years while she worked up into the star
+of "Dear Geraldine" with all the might of the Irish eyes and lissome
+figure and cooing, creamy voice. He had then built Highcliff in the
+artist's colony of the Beach for the joint domicile of mother and
+daughter. However, it is easier to bathe, comb, manicure, and
+luxuriously clothe a body than it is to renovate a soul, and within the
+Violet Maggie dwelt in all her gutter vigor. It is also safe to say that
+perhaps it was no little part of the Maggie that the beautiful and
+haughty Violet threw across the footlights to draw to her the primitive
+in the hearts of her vast audiences. It was to some extent the wisdom of
+Maggie that the Violet was using as she prepared for her first encounter
+alone with Mr. Dennis Farraday as he raced down the moonlit beach to
+her.
+
+"Not the violet and jet, Susette, but that white embroidered lisle, and
+take time to sew three inches of tulle around the top of the bodice in
+front and put folds five inches deep across the back. Let it come just
+below the shoulder," she commanded, as she commenced the whirlwind of a
+toilette with which, she had assured the hurrying Dennis, she was
+already adorned.
+
+"_Mais_, Mademoiselle--" Susette began.
+
+"He'd shy at too much omitted clothing when we are alone. I'll have to
+introduce him to myself gradually," she answered the protest, laughing
+as she tossed her pale, yellow mane high on her head, and dabbed a
+little curl against her cheek with the rose oil, and made a skilful use
+of the lip-stick brought by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford from the famed
+Celeste's.
+
+"He will behold that Mademoiselle Simone dance with very few garments
+_alors_," Susette pouted as she laid in the folds of modest tulle.
+
+"But he won't be alone in the moonlight with her, that is, if I can help
+it," answered the mistress, as she further perfumed and painted the lily
+of her beauty. "Don't worry, Susette; I'm going to give monsieur the
+time of his life."
+
+"That is without saying, Mademoiselle," answered Susette, as she slipped
+the silky fluff over the Violet's head, and fastened the one or two
+hooks that held it in place over the filmy undergarments in which the
+Violet stood waiting for its veiling. "_Mon Dieu_, what a beauty it
+gives you, and that placing of the tulle is _ravissant_."
+
+"That is what I meant it to be," laughed the Violet. "There's his car!
+Bring me that orchid wrap when I ring for it." And leaving the
+admiration of Susette, the Violet hurried down to drink from the cup of
+the same vintage she was sure would be offered her by Mr. Dennis
+Farraday. It was offered.
+
+"It's awfully good of you people to help a poor lonely dub to a pleasant
+evening," were the words with which the victim greeted the Violet, while
+his eyes offered the expected portion of admiration as he beheld her
+bathed in the radiance of the moon.
+
+"Sure the pleasure is ours--or rather mine, poor old Van," she answered,
+with not a little trepidation well hidden under her rich voice.
+
+"Couldn't you wake him up, the old scout? Let me get to him. I have a
+way with him I learned in the Nova Scotia woods." Mr. Farraday laughed a
+big laugh, which had in it the tang of the breeze in the tops of
+pine-trees. But the Violet was ready for him.
+
+"He's not there for your torture. The poor darling got a telephone
+message just twenty minutes ago to come back to New York to-night. I've
+just motored him up the beach to catch the eleven-fifteen train. Some
+day that tiresome Dolph will follow Van about some play snarl into--into
+Paradise."
+
+"He did that to-night, didn't he?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a merry
+laugh as he ruffled his red forelock up off his broad brow, and made
+himself look like a huge, tame lion.
+
+"Away with your blarney, boy!" laughed the Violet, in return, using her
+Maggie Murphy form of speech with telling effect, as she often did. "He
+left a thousand apologies for you," she added, slipping back into her
+veneer of the--for Maggie--upper world. "And you've had your race down
+for nothing; poor Simone!"
+
+"Oh, I say, can't we just go on over to supper at the Beach Inn? The
+Clyde Trevors asked me, and we can have supper with them. Wouldn't you
+like that? We can tell them about poor Van." He was as eager as a boy in
+his friendly efforts to mend what he thought must be a broken evening
+for her.
+
+"I'd love it," answered the Violet, with a flash of her white teeth and
+violet eyes at him.
+
+After a summons Susette appeared with the alluring orchid garment, and a
+white film of seed-pearls for her mistress's hair. She assisted the
+Violet's discreet Japanese butler to put them into the big car, which
+Mr. Farraday was driving himself, and then stood for a minute watching
+them hurl themselves away across the white sand.
+
+"_Quelle vie!_" she muttered to herself as she turned back into the
+darkened house.
+
+The Beach Inn was aglow and atwinkle and in full laugh as they ascended
+the steps of the wide veranda hung out over the ocean, where members and
+guests were having supper at small tables lit with shaded lamps. Men and
+girls, in bathing suits that were lineal descendants of the scant
+fig-leaf, were eating and drinking together sparsely because of their
+intention of taking a midnight plunge in the breakers under the hot
+moon, while other women in radiant evening garb were almost as scantily
+attired, though attended by stuffily garbed men. Most of the parties
+turned and called a laughing greeting to the Violet, for they were the
+men and women of her world disporting themselves away from Broadway, and
+Clyde Trevor, who had written the book for "Miss Cut-up," rose and came
+over to claim his guests.
+
+"Lost Van?" he questioned, as he led them to their seats beside Mrs.
+Trevor, who had danced fifty thousand dollars out of New York the winter
+just ended. His voice held a hint of irony, which the Violet got and Mr.
+Dennis Farraday missed.
+
+"Not quite yet," she said, with a coo at which Trevor smiled, and under
+his breath he gave her the word, "Good hunting!"
+
+"Thanks."
+
+"Old Van had to hop back to New York on the eleven-fifteen, but we came
+on to glad with you anyway," Mr. Farraday was saying to Mrs. Trevor,
+with an ingenuous smile.
+
+"Go to it, baby," commanded Trevor to his wife, as a rich negro melody
+began to fling its invitation against the roaring call of the ocean, and
+at his word Simone rose from the seat of Mrs. Trevor and slid out into
+the cleared space at the head of the steps.
+
+"Just in time," commented Mr. Farraday under his breath, as he turned
+his chair to watch her drop her silk coat, and float out on the waves of
+sound just as she would later float on the waves of the ocean after she
+had plunged from the steps to lead the midnight bathing in the surf, for
+which the management of the inn paid her the sum of two hundred dollars
+per plunge.
+
+All of this gaiety and amusement was just a prelude to the ride home in
+the moonlight, which the Violet took with good Dennis Farraday and
+during which she discovered that there is such a thing as honor among
+men about poaching on other men's preserves, and during which, also, the
+fate of Major Adair, Patricia, Roger, and old black Jeff hung in the
+balance.
+
+"Just what are we racing?" she questioned as they flew along the beach
+with rubber tires that just skimmed the hard, white sand.
+
+"A bit fast?" asked Mr. Farraday, with a protective laugh, as he slowed
+down the flight.
+
+"Let's loaf and talk a while," the Violet answered, with a tentative
+note of invitation in her voice.
+
+"I had thought you and Van and I would have a great powwow over the
+play this evening, and it's fierce that he had to get back to that
+furnace a night like this, but we can limp along on a few ideas without
+him, maybe. What do you think of 'The Purple Slipper'?" As he set the
+car at an easy pace he turned and looked down at the lovely face so near
+his shoulder with a great and extremely boyish enthusiasm, which was
+very delightful and very irritating to the Violet.
+
+"What do you think about it? You tell first," she said with a smile that
+answered his enthusiasm adequately and which served to cover with
+agility the fact that she had not read the play.
+
+"Well, at first it seemed a queer kind of vehicle for you, but as I read
+on I could see you queening it in all those furbelows of dress as well
+as adventure and sentiment. It's a little serious in situation, but it
+is full of comedy adventure in line, and I can just see the audience eat
+you up in it. I told Van so, and I bought in before I had read more
+than half the second act. I don't feel as though I could wait to see you
+in that dinner scene while you hold the enemies of your spouse
+confounded. I agree with Van that your emotional qualities may exceed
+your comedy."
+
+"Does Van back my emotional acting against my comedy?" the Violet asked,
+with barely concealed surprise in her voice.
+
+"He does. He says that 'The Purple Slipper' is going to be the sensation
+of Broadway for the early fall, and I agree with him. Do you feel as
+sure of it as he says you are?"
+
+"Yes," answered the Violet, and by her assent in premeditated ignorance
+of the contents of the play manuscript she put the second cross on the
+production which made it a double on the fate of Mr. Dennis Farraday as
+a theatrical producer. However, that fact may have been balanced by the
+fact that it was the third cross on the fate of Miss Patricia Adair.
+Crosses on fates in the world of Broadway go in singles, doubles, and
+threes, and no man can tell their exact significance.
+
+"Good!" answered Mr. Dennis Farraday, with another and still broader
+smile of gratification and admiration of the Violet as an artist--a
+smile which further infuriated, but equally inspired her. "And what a
+grand time we'll all have putting it across! I'm going to help Van see
+actors for the cast on Friday, and I'm going to sit in on rehearsals
+straight through. I'm due a month's vacation, and I'm going to have my
+mail from the office relayed back to New York from the yacht off
+Nantucket so that bunch of money grubbers can't find me. Think of having
+the honor of being co-producer for Violet Hawtry for my first shot!"
+
+All of which enthusiasm and admiration went like wine to the head of the
+Violet, though it left her heart uncomfortably cold; and beautiful, cool
+moonlight heats the heart of a fair woman when it is not more than two
+feet away from that of a brave and fair man.
+
+"Sure I'll make it a success for you, man dear!" Maggie Murphy in the
+Violet made an attempt to put a glow into the situation, using the
+brogue that was like rich cream poured over peaches, as she snuggled her
+bare shoulder, from which the orchid wrap had slipped, with a natural
+little shiver against good Dennis's wheel arm.
+
+"You and Van are trumps to take me in for the fun, and I'm no end
+grateful to you both," was all she got for her manoeuver.
+
+"Yes--Van is a dear," she hedged in a matter-of-fact voice.
+
+"Yes, and I suppose after my co-first night with him the old scout will
+stop baiting me about blinking the white lights. I always have been
+obliged to beat Van at any game before I could rest in peace." And at
+the thought of getting in at his David big Jonathan laughed heartily
+just as he began to slow up the car for the turn along the sea-wall that
+led under the porch of Highcliff.
+
+"Have you ever competed with him in the biggest game of all?" the
+Violet asked softly, as the car swept into the shadow and stopped by the
+broad stone steps.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, with a countenance so open
+and a voice so hearty that the Violet, used to artifice from everybody,
+suspected that they could not be real, and this suspicion made her give
+up the game for the time being. She laughed with a mocking sweetness as
+she sprang out of the car and to the top of the steps before he could
+help her.
+
+"Some day I'll tell you what I mean," she mocked from the dark doorway.
+"Good-night!" And while he stood at the bottom step looking up at her,
+she vanished into the darkness of the house, leaving him out in the cool
+moonlight, a fate very different from what she had been planning for him
+for several hours.
+
+"Just as old Van said, they are nothing but children, and I blame him
+about trifling with her more than I thought I did; she's a dear thing
+and a little pathetic in her anxiety to make good for him. Scout has
+just got to do something about it all. She's a fine and devoted woman.
+And beautiful--whee-ugh!" The big thirty-year-old boy ended his
+soliloquy with a whistle, which showed that in a measure he had
+appreciated the dangers of the last hours. One of the eternal questions
+is how can a mere man be so wicked--or so good as he is often discovered
+by temptation to be?
+
+"I'll have to be publicly and finally severed from Van before I annex
+him, the boob," was the soliloquy of the Violet as she prepared for her
+slumber of beauty. Another question is how thin a veneer of feminine
+beauty weathers indefinitely the wash of circumstances.
+
+Then after that moonlit night in August Fate spun her web, which she
+called "The Purple Slipper," rapidly, and for a number of the people
+involved life became very hectic. The center of the whirl was Mr. Adolph
+Meyers, though he was safely functioning with power behind the throne
+occupied by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's nonchalant and elegantly clad
+figure.
+
+"But Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is never before that you have produced a
+play without a reading," he remonstrated on the morning of the day set
+for the picking of the cast from those probably suitable chosen by
+Chambers, the invaluable agent of the great army of those theatrically
+employed. "Actors will be here from twelve o'clock even to six. How will
+a choice be made?"
+
+"I'm trusting to your hunch about the purple manuscript falling on the
+day of the Violet letter, Pops," answered Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. "Make
+out a little memorandum against each name that tells me what to pick. I
+like the idea of going it blind that way: it may be lucky. And, Pops,
+split that five-thousand-dollar check of Mr. Farraday's in three ways.
+Pay Lindenberg two-fifty as his advance on the scenery for 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' provided he furbishes up something that will do for the
+little road sally of Violet's spanking-machine, to be emblazoned as
+'The Purple Slipper' on the cheapest black bills ever run off in New
+York. Give Hugh Willings a thousand advance for the music of 'The Rosie
+Posie Girl,' but make him write as many as six waltz songs even if you
+are sure the first is a hit; it is good to make people, specially any
+kind of artists, work for the money you pay 'em. The other fifteen
+hundred you had better put off by itself as a starter on the Violet's
+gowns. She likes to pay an Irish woman with a French name three hundred
+dollars for six dollars' worth of chiffon sewed with seventy-five cents'
+worth of silk."
+
+"What is for costumes for the 'Purple Slipper'?"
+
+"Oh, any old dolling up will do for that. The women can wear what
+they've got and the men borrow or rent." With a wave of the cigarette in
+his hand, Mr. Vandeford dismissed the scenic effects of the play for
+whose debut Miss Elvira Henderson was concocting a dream costume to
+adorn the author for receiving triumphal plaudits.
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is a costume play of a period," the humble
+power behind the throne pleaded.
+
+"Oh, is it? Then rent the nearest layout to its date that Grossmidt has
+for all of 'em in a lump, and make him give you a bargain. Tell him they
+won't be worn more than two weeks. I guess Violet will be in line by
+that time." With which significant order Mr. Godfrey Vandeford turned
+from the anxious Mr. Meyers to answer the tinkling telephone at his
+elbow. In a second he was speaking to the most eminent stage director on
+Broadway.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Godfrey Vandeford, Bill."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes. Called to know if you would like to stage a little show for me
+right away."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes. I'm going to give Hawtry a little canter before 'The Rosie Posie
+Girl.' New line for her, and doubtful. Like to take hold for a
+pittance?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, yes, that three hundred a week for the 'Posie Girl' goes, of
+course, but this play is just a Hawtry whim that I have got to let her
+get out of her system. One hundred a week is my limit, and you ought to
+do it for seventy-five. You can sit in your chair all the time for all I
+care."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Now you get me--a hundred it is. Let her have her head and work off
+steam before we start 'The Rosie Posie.' Yes, Willings is doing the
+Rosie songs for us. They'll be hot stuff."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, Corbett's making sketches for 'The Rosie Posie' scenery now. We'll
+start 'The Purple Slipper' on Monday. Yes, that's its blooming name.
+By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Is it William Rooney to stage 'The Purple Slipper'?" asked Mr. Meyers,
+with a shrug of his narrow shoulders as he began pecking out on his
+machine the notes that were to guide his chief in picking the artists
+who were to embody the characters in the play founded on the life
+romance of that old grandame Madam Patricia Adair of colonial Kentucky.
+
+"Why do you reckon Samuel Goldstein likes to build up a reputation for
+himself on Broadway by the name of William Rooney, Pops?" inquired Mr.
+Vandeford, with the idle curiosity of a free and untroubled mind.
+
+"It is the prejudice against Hebrews for a reason," answered Mr. Meyers,
+with a glint in his gem-like eyes and a wave of color flushing across
+his high, scholarly forehead.
+
+"Well, the top crust of the whole show business is Hebrew, and I should
+think the bunch of you would be proud of the fact. I'm even proud that a
+man named Adolph Meyers runs this whole company, and me included," said
+Mr. Vandeford, without taking the trouble to note the wave of gratified
+pride, devotion, and embarrassment that swept over the countenance of
+his faithful henchman. "Now I'll get a little booking for your 'Purple
+Slipper,' and that is all you need expect me to do, except shoulder all
+the loss I haven't shunted on Denny."
+
+"It is to be a win, not a loss," murmured the loyal Adolph under his
+breath, with a glance of affection at the absorbed Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford.
+
+This vow of Mr. Adolph Meyers shows that it is as dangerous to arouse
+the affection and loyalty of one genius as it is to incur the anger of
+another.
+
+The casting of "The Purple Slipper" was a joy to Mr. Dennis Farraday. He
+was to pay well for it in the future, but it was conducted in pure glee.
+He sat beside Mr. Godfrey Vandeford in the latter's long, Persian
+carpeted, soft-tinted, and famous-actor-photograph-bedecked, private
+office beside that eminent producer, and watched the strong light from
+over their shoulders reveal the points of the men and women who came in
+to exhibit themselves. From the moment they entered the door, through
+the walk or waddle or lope or saunter with which they approached their
+fate to the expressions of joy or disappointment which their emotions
+showed under Mr. Godfrey Vandeford's grilling, Mr. Farraday was deeply
+interested.
+
+"You know, Bebe, it is not necessary to put on more than a hundred extra
+pounds when in training for the heavy mother," he genially admonished a
+very large lady of uncertain age--an age artfully covered with rouge,
+powder, pencil, and lip-stick--who sank into the chair facing him with a
+pathetic remnant of the former lissome grace which had got her as far as
+being a dependable leading woman to any star who could go her a few
+points better.
+
+"Well, it's not from living on large salaries from you that I have put
+on the pounds, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford!" she answered with a jovial laugh.
+
+"Still eating half of old Wallace Kent's salary checks?" Mr. Vandeford
+demanded. This seemed a lack of delicacy to Mr. Dennis Farraday, who
+blushed with a color equal to that which rose in the cheeks of the old
+beauty as her eyes snapped and she rose to her feet.
+
+"As you know, he's feeding a squab chicken at Rector's to get her into
+the broiler class. Good-day, sir," and she prepared to sweep out of the
+office with all the fire she had used in many a queenly situation.
+
+"Good old Bebe," Mr. Vandeford said, as he rose and put a restraining
+arm around her broad waist. "I was just teasing to see what was
+smouldering. How'll seventy-five a week, with costumes of frills and
+powdered hair, do you? Thirty sides and the center of the stage four
+times." "Sides," meaning single sheets of dialogue, puzzled Mr.
+Farraday, but he made a mental note to seek enlightenment.
+
+"I haven't had a part this winter, Godfrey," she laughed, and sobbed on
+Mr. Vandeford's shoulder. "I'm living in a suitcase at Mrs. Pinkham's."
+
+"Stop and get a twenty-five check from Dolph, and be on the job Monday
+at the Barrett Theatre. Now run!" Mr. Vandeford gave Miss Bebe Herne's
+two hundred pounds of avoirdupois a gentle shove toward the door, which
+hint she took with an alacrity that had in it a great deal of left-over
+grace.
+
+"Supported a lot of big guns for years. Knows her business better than
+any actress on Broadway," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to his horrified
+confrere as the door closed behind the old beauty. "Picked up Wallace
+Kent when he was a piffling, faded juvenile, and taught him to be a good
+elderly support worth his hundred to any director. He's left her flat
+for a pony in the Big Show, old hound!"
+
+"Pretty raw," observed Mr. Dennis Farraday, with a great deal of emotion
+very poorly concealed in his sympathetic voice.
+
+"Oh, she's had her fling in life! Dopes a bit, but can be depended upon.
+Next!"
+
+This time there entered a husky, young brute of a boy with shoulders
+broad enough to run a double-decker plough. His hair was long and
+sleeked close to his well-shaped head, but his fine mouth and chin
+sagged, and his eyes were bold and sophisticated. In costume he was the
+glass and mould of Broadway fashion.
+
+"Reginald Leigh," he announced himself in a nice voice, and, as he
+spoke, took from a case a card and laid it on the edge of Mr.
+Vandeford's desk.
+
+"Experience, Mr. Leigh?" asked Mr. Vandeford, still standing and with
+not an atom of encouragement in his whole body from head to toe.
+
+"College dramatics and last summer in stock at Buffalo. I've worked in
+two pictures for the Universal."
+
+"Heavy juvenile at fifty a week," offered Mr. Vandeford, with an
+indifferent glance up from the paper in his hand prepared for his
+guidance by the indefatigable Mr. Meyers. The word "handsome" was typed
+in the offer from which Mr. Vandeford made to Mr. Leigh.
+
+"My price is a hundred, Mr. Vandeford," answered Mr. Leigh, very
+pleasantly, and he took a grip on his hat and stick that was meant to
+convey the idea of immediate departure.
+
+"Sorry," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a finality that staggered Mr.
+Dennis Farraday; for the youngster's looks and charm were so evident
+that it pained him to see "The Purple Slipper" lose them. "Costumes
+historical, furnished," added Mr. Vandeford, with increased
+indifference.
+
+"Oh, in that case--" murmured the boy, almost, but not quite, unleashing
+his eagerness.
+
+"Just leave your telephone number with Mr. Meyers in the outer office,
+please. Good-morning, Mr. Leigh," was the answer his concession got
+along with the dismissal in the "good-morning," which was spoken in such
+a tone that it was obeyed in short order.
+
+"That is a find," said Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to the gasping Mr. Dennis
+Farraday. "Handsome young chaps who have any kind of manliness are hard
+to find these days. Too busy to be actors."
+
+"Why didn't you engage him?" further gasped his partner in the adventure
+of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I'll let him cool his heels, to get some of the know-it out of his
+system. Dolph will make him come around and beg in less than twenty-four
+hours."
+
+"See here, Van, these people are artists to whom you are trusting your
+money and reputation as a producer, and you treat them like--"
+
+"The foolish children that they are," interrupted Mr. Vandeford. "Next!"
+and he pressed a button under his desk that buzzed for Mr. Meyers's ears
+alone.
+
+The next three applicants were girls, who respectively giggled,
+glowered, and simpered. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford chose the two who glowered
+and simpered and got rid of the giggler by referring her telephone
+number to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"That second that you sent away was the prettiest of the bunch,"
+commented Mr. Dennis Farraday, with interest that had survived to that
+point with undiminished intensity.
+
+"Not at home under that little cocked hat. That giggle was the whole bag
+of tricks," instructed Mr. Vandeford. "Got any men out there, Pops?" he
+asked through the telephone to Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+Immediately there entered a debonair, very handsome, and sleek gentleman
+of uncertain age.
+
+"Hello, Kent, want to support Bebe in a costume play for a hundred a
+week?" asked Mr. Vandeford, with not an instant's greeting in answer to
+that gentleman's cordial good-morning.
+
+"In New York or on the road?" questioned Mr. Kent, with an assurance
+that he tried to make bold.
+
+"To the devil if I send you there," was the answer he got straight off
+the bat.
+
+"A hundred with costumes?"
+
+"With costumes."
+
+"Done."
+
+"See Dolph; but not over ten-dollar advance to save your hide."
+
+"He's giving fifty."
+
+"To whom?"
+
+"Bebe."
+
+"He did that because he knew that you'd get half of what he gave her.
+Ten's your limit."
+
+"All right. Good-morning!"
+
+"Barrett on Monday morning."
+
+"All right!"
+
+With which Mr. Kent rapidly made his exit.
+
+"Old reprobate! But he does feed the lines to his opposite, and Bebe
+happy is worth twice Bebe in a grouch. You see what the whole blamed
+thing is like and--" Mr. Vandeford was interrupted by the tinkle of the
+telephone at his elbow.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Godfrey Vandeford speaking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"When did you get in?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Not busy at all."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"The Claridge?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Right away."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Haven't seen or heard from him in two days."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Right over. By!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+From overhearing, as he was forced to do, this one-sided conversation,
+how could Mr. Dennis Farraday imagine that Violet Hawtry had come into
+sultry New York seeking him to devour and that his keeper was rushing
+away from his presence to his defense?
+
+"You and Pops engage the rest, Denny. You see the trick now. Nothing
+left important but what Dolph puts down on this paper as 'woman support
+for character parts with looks.' Try your hand, old man, and if you pick
+a flivver there are plenty more to cast in and her out. By!" And before
+Mr. Farraday could protest he was left alone in the inquisition-room.
+And as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford went down in an elevator on his way to the
+Claridge to deliver the next instalment of the spanking of Miss Violet
+Hawtry, he passed a live wire going up opposite him and met one walking
+down Forty-second Street, neither of which he could be expected to
+recognize, as he had never seen either.
+
+The first of the two dynamos walked into the office of the Vandeford
+Producing Company and failed to thrill Mr. Adolph Meyers in the least, a
+fact for which he could never afterward account. He motioned her into
+the inner office, and left her to her fate and Mr. Dennis Farraday.
+
+"Good-morning, Mr. Vandeford," she said in a queer, throaty kind of
+voice that had in it a "come hither" of unusual quality, which
+suggested that in her production a Romney woman might have loved a Greek
+dancer well. She stood at ease before the long desk with a grace that
+was unmistakably that of complete assurance.
+
+"I'm not Mr. Vandeford, but his--his partner, Dennis Farraday. Er--er,
+won't you be seated?" and with the happy, considerate manner of his that
+he had always used to all women, he offered her his own chair and
+appropriated the one of authority that Mr. Vandeford always occupied.
+
+"Thank you," answered the young woman, with an ease equal to his own.
+And then they both waited while regarding each other seriously. Finally
+the tension relaxed and Dennis Farraday gave a big, jovial laugh while
+he made his admission:
+
+"I don't know a thing about the play business. I'm just sitting in with
+Mr. Vandeford for the fun of it."
+
+"An angel?" asked the girl, with a laugh that somehow accorded with
+his.
+
+"That's it. He's gone out and left me to--to cut my eye teeth."
+
+"On me?"
+
+"Looks that way," and again they both laughed.
+
+"Maybe I can help you," volunteered the girl, after the laugh. "I am
+Mildred Lindsey, and Mr. Chambers sent me in to see if I could support
+Miss Hawtry."
+
+"Er--er, what experience?" Mr. Dennis Farraday managed to ask by fishing
+into his impressions of the last two hours.
+
+"Five years in stock on the Pacific coast, two years in towns between,
+and two weeks in a flivver here on Broadway early in the spring. Dead
+broke, hungry, and about ready to make good for some manager." As the
+answer was fired point-blank at him, Mr. Dennis Farraday seemed to see a
+fire of psychic hunger blaze as high as that of wolfish, physical agony
+in the girl's eyes.
+
+Mr. Dennis Farraday eagerly searched on the paper of guidance in casting
+made out by Mr. Adolph Meyers for the benefit of Mr. Vandeford and
+found "woman support," and opposite the item of salary, seventy-five
+dollars. He doubled.
+
+"How would a hundred and fifty a week with costumes do for salary? You
+can have a couple of weeks advance right now if you like," he said in an
+easy, nonchalant manner as much like that of Mr. Vandeford as he could
+muster, for those fires of hunger in the girl's eyes were searching
+holes in Mr. Dennis Farraday's pocket.
+
+"It would save my life--but--but could you tell me a little about the
+part? I might not be able to play it." There were both hope and fear in
+her compelling voice.
+
+The question found Mr. Dennis Farraday unprepared by any precedent
+established in the two foregoing hours, for between the artists and Mr.
+Vandeford there had been alone the matter of salary to be settled and
+not one of them had inquired whether they were being engaged to play a
+Billy Sunday or an Ethiopian slave. But in another way it found him
+better prepared than would have been Mr. Godfrey Vandeford. He had read
+the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford had not.
+
+"Well, to my uninitiated way of thinking, the supporting part is about
+as good as the leading one," said Mr. Dennis Farraday, and forthwith he
+launched out on an eager, enthusiastic resume of the plot and
+atmosphere, even quoting lines of "The Purple Slipper." And as he talked
+Mildred Lindsey leaned across the table toward him and fairly drank in
+his words.
+
+"I see--it's wonderful how she keeps his enemies at bay during the first
+half of the banquet--while she waits. It's great!" Her enthusiasm
+expressed in her wonderful voice urged Mr. Dennis Farraday on and on to
+a fuller exposition of the play and its beauties.
+
+"You see, the sister is really the one to carry the plot. It is on her
+that Rosalind leans, and she has to be all there in her quiet way."
+
+"Yes, I see, and it can be made--" At this juncture the eye of Mr.
+Adolph Meyer was inserted to a crack of the door and then removed as he
+shook his head in puzzled doubt. He had intended to intrude to the
+rescue of his co-employer's inexperience, but he decided that the time
+was not ripe by one glance at Mr. Farraday's eager face, surmounted by
+its rampant, red leonine locks.
+
+"I have pity for Mr. Farraday," Mr. Meyers remarked to himself as he
+seated himself at his machine, not knowing that in a very few minutes
+the second live wire would arrive in the office and this time he would
+get a shock himself.
+
+For a half-hour he wrote on, while the animated voices boomed and purled
+and bubbled in the office beyond the crack of the door he had left open
+to observe the first lull that might call for relief. Then he got his
+shock.
+
+The office door opened timidly, and somebody entered so quietly that she
+stood beside Mr. Adolph Meyers before he had lifted his head.
+
+It was the author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," now "The Purple
+Slipper," and she looked every inch of it! Miss Elvira, the genius
+guided by "The Feminist Review," had done her best with the blue-silk
+suit, and Fifth Avenue could have done no better.
+
+"May I see Mr. Vandeford? I am Miss Patricia Adair," she announced in a
+rich and calm Southern voice and manner.
+
+Mr. Adolph Meyers sprang to his feet with the impact of the shock.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford is not in the office, Madam, at present," he managed to
+gasp. Then he followed her big, gray eyes as they rested on the crack of
+the door through which the boom of Mr. Dennis Farraday's voice mingled
+with the excited chime of Miss Lindsey's laughter, and noticed as though
+for the first time that it had emblazoned upon it in large, gilt
+letters, "Mr. Vandeford. Private."
+
+"It is Mr. Dennis Farraday, the partner of Mr. Vandeford, engaging
+actors, Miss, in his absence. Will you walk in?" and in almost the first
+panic in which he had ever indulged Mr. Adolph Meyers showed the proud
+young author into the sanctum sanctorum from which he had barricaded
+many an enraged virago who had threatened his life if he kept her from
+an appeal to the manager.
+
+"It is Miss Adair, the author of your play, Mr. Farraday, would speak
+with you," he announced across the long room, bowed in a way he had
+never done in his life, and shut the door behind Miss Adair.
+
+It is interesting to wonder how it would have affected the end of the
+whole matter if Patricia Adair had walked in behind the giggler when Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with all his experience with authors, was seated on
+the throne instead of poor inexperienced Dennis Farraday, enjoying "The
+Purple Slipper" with his newly engaged, supporting lady.
+
+"By jove, Miss Adair, it is little bit of all right that you should come
+in and catch Miss Lindsey and me chewing joy-rags over our--your play.
+Let me introduce Miss Lindsey, who is to support Miss Hawtry in the part
+of Harriet." And bonnie Dennis, the angel, beamed with pure joy at the
+good time he was having as a producer. At the very sight and sound of
+him poor Patricia, who for half an hour had been wandering up and down
+Forty-second Street, looking for the tallest building on it, took both
+comfort and delight, and her sea-gray eyes with stars in their depths
+returned the beam of his eyes.
+
+"It's so wonderful that you like my play and are going to produce
+it--and you to act in it, Miss Lindsey," she said as she seated herself
+in the chair Mr. Farraday had drawn up for her. She looked at them both
+with respectful awe in her eyes and in her cheeks a flush of color that
+came and went as she spoke, in a way that at first puzzled Miss Lindsey
+as to its brand and then in turn awed her as she decided it was the real
+thing. The blue-silk triumph of Miss Elvira and "The Review" also
+puzzled her for a moment, but she put it down to some little Fifth
+Avenue shop that only debutantes and authors of plays could afford, and
+took it in with delight at its exquisite detail.
+
+"I think it is a dandy play, as Mr. Farraday has been telling it to me.
+Crooks and--and cut-ups are about done for," said Miss Lindsey. She gave
+a quick glance at Mr. Farraday, to see if he resented the allusion to
+Mr. Vandeford's recent failure.
+
+"Right-o!" agreed Mr. Farraday, with a sympathetic smile at her
+allusion, which passed over the head of the lady from Adairville,
+Kentucky.
+
+Then ensued more than a half-hour of the most enthusiastic discussion of
+plays in general, and Miss Adair's in particular. Both Mr. Dennis
+Farraday and Miss Mildred Lindsey were impressed with the fact that the
+author of "The Renunciation of Rosalind" had learned her business from
+the most erudite sources, and they talked Shakespeare and Fielding
+until they at last wound themselves up into a complete pause.
+
+Miss Adair broke the strain.
+
+"I'm awfully hungry, and I don't know where to go to get something to
+eat," she said, with exactly the same tone of confidence she had used in
+asking old Jeff for a cold muffin in between the meals of her eighth
+summer.
+
+"By Jove, we are all hungry! You girls come with me," exclaimed Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, as he jumped to his feet and looked around for his hat.
+
+"Thank you, but I think I had better go home to--to see about--" Miss
+Lindsey was faltering with the embarrassment of those who are both proud
+and hungry, when food is offered them socially.
+
+"Nonsense! You are coming over to the Claridge with Miss Adair and me
+for a bite. Then you can come back by here and see Dolph.--Dolph, make
+out a check for Miss Lindsey's advance. Shall we say one or two hundred,
+Miss Lindsey?" Dennis Farraday was in his element when doing the breezy
+protective to two girls at once.
+
+"One hundred, please," answered Miss Lindsey, with color mounting to her
+cheeks that underpainted that already there. She smiled with amusement
+at the surprise that manifested itself for an instant on the round face
+of Mr. Meyers that an actress should not "grab" all offered her and then
+plead for more. "But I really do feel that I had better not--go to
+luncheon, for I am--"
+
+"Please do! I'd rather you would," the eminent author urged, and she
+clung to the show girl in a way that showed Dennis Farraday, accustomed
+to the women of her world, that vague proprieties were hovering beside
+the gates that were opening for Patricia from her old world into her
+new.
+
+"You'll have to come, Miss Lindsey, to celebrate, or we shall think you
+are not all for the play," Mr. Farraday said with a finality in his
+voice that settled the matter.
+
+And the three of them scudded along a few blocks of the sun-steamed
+streets into the coolness of the Claridge, also into the heart of a
+situation that had been seething for an hour between Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford and Miss Violet Hawtry.
+
+"How wonderful of you, Van dear, to find me such a play at the eleventh
+and three-quarters hour!" had been the volley that Violet had fired at
+him.
+
+"Glad you like it," he had parried, feeling sure that she was jockeying
+with him for position for the clinch.
+
+"Dennis Farraday told me that you were backing my emotional handling
+even more than my comedy scenes. Could you for once be playing square
+with me and really looking forward to my development in getting
+this--this rather remarkable kind of a play for me?"
+
+"I've done my best for you for five years, Violet," he quietly answered
+the insult, as he looked across the empty white tables that stretched
+away from Violet's favorite and reserved seat in the black and gold
+dining-room.
+
+"'Miss Cut-up,' for instance?"
+
+"There were several ways to put that play across. You had your way in
+every particular. Mine might have succeeded," was his calm answer.
+
+"The really amusing thing about you is that you don't at all know how
+little brains you have," was the polite broadside delivered him as
+Violet began to sip the clear coffee from her cup.
+
+"Same to you," was the reply she received. Godfrey spoke in a
+good-natured tone of voice. "Now, what did you come to town to talk
+about--'The Purple Slipper'?"
+
+"Why did you leave Highcliff like a thief in the night?"
+
+"Did you read the deeds Dolph gave you when he went up to pack my
+personal effects?"
+
+"Yes, thanks! I suppose you consider Highcliff the price of your
+freedom?"
+
+"And cheap at that."
+
+"Then why not turn me over to Weiner?" Violet asked in a dangerous tone
+of voice that made Mr. Vandeford glance around with apprehension to see
+who would witness the explosion if it occurred.
+
+"I tried to buy Denny off yesterday, but you fastened 'The Purple
+Slipper' firmly in his head, maybe his heart, the other evening, and it
+would be like taking candy from a child. Maybe you can--can influence
+him to let go--if I give you the chance." There was something coolly
+insulting in his voice that told Violet he had surmised her intentions
+and the failure of her assault on his big Jonathan.
+
+"Your usual impertinence! I'll get him yet, just to spite you. I'll go
+in and play that 'Purple Slipper' to win, and--"
+
+"Again Miss Adair breaks in on enthusiasm for her play." Dennis
+Farraday's big voice boomed right at the elbows of the embattled pair.
+"Look who's here, Van!"
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford looked up quickly, and as quickly rose to his
+feet. And with one glance into slate-gray eyes behind long black
+lashes--eyes filled with awed, worshipful gratitude to him--his heart
+rose in his breast and all but flitted out upon his sleeve.
+
+"Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford, the producer of your play," good Dennis
+flourished. "And Miss Violet Hawtry! In fact, the whole happy family!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+
+Now, by all rules of the game, it was the prerogative of Miss Violet
+Hawtry to take charge of a situation in which the star of a play meets
+the author; but she missed her cue, and the gutter instinct within her
+sat dumb and dumfounded before the lady from Adairville.
+
+"I'm charmed to meet you, Miss Hawtry," Miss Adair assured her, with a
+glance of such admiration and friendliness that even Violet's
+narrow-gage soul expanded into a variety of graciousness all its own,
+and she smiled back into the eyes of the young author with a radiance
+that had the semblance of warmth.
+
+"And this is Miss Lindsey, whom we have chosen to support you in our
+play, Miss Hawtry," Mr. Dennis Farraday continued, with a glance of
+respectful awe at the Hawtry, which matched that given her by the
+author a second before and obtained for Miss Lindsey a cordial enough
+recognition of the introduction only slightly to frappe her instead of
+freezing her entirely. "We are all hungry," he added after the change of
+civilities.
+
+"You are all having luncheon with me," Mr. Vandeford found his voice to
+say. Ignoring Violet's glance of indignation at this skilful avoidance
+of a climax of her scene with him, he had three extra covers laid at the
+corner table devoted to the services of Miss Hawtry.
+
+"I warned you that we were hungry, Van," said Mr. Farraday, as he began
+to search through the menu for an article of diet safe to pour in
+quantities into a girl who had long been empty. "How'd rare steak and
+fresh mushrooms do?" he asked, and he looked away from what he was sure
+would be in the eyes of Miss Lindsey, and which was there.
+
+"Wonderful!" she murmured.
+
+"Right-o, for you and Miss Lindsey, but what about nightingales' tongues
+for my author?" laughed Mr. Vandeford, with an interested note in his
+rich voice, which caused Miss Hawtry to look at him sharply and Miss
+Adair to repeat the blush to such a degree that Miss Hawtry, as Miss
+Lindsey before her, was forced to admit that it was native and not
+imported. The flush did not pass unnoticed by Mr. Vandeford, as he
+laughed again with a question as to her nourishing.
+
+"I want something that I don't know what the name means," calmly
+returned Miss Adair, with delighted excitement at the thought of
+adventuring into a land of strange food. "I know steak and ham and eggs
+and chicken and turkey."
+
+"Will you trust me?" asked Mr. Vandeford. There was an eagerness in his
+voice and smile that again made the Violet glance at him and then at Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The latter was beaming with mirth at the dilemma of
+feeding the young author who was so frankly scattering her hay-seeds on
+the metropolitan atmosphere. At that instant Miss Hawtry made a
+momentous decision.
+
+"Trust Mr. Vandeford and you can't go wrong," she advised with peaches
+and cream in her voice, and for some unknown reason Mr. Vandeford would
+have been glad to twist the creamy throat from which issued the creamy
+voice. Instead, he turned, calmly summoned the head waiter, and went
+into a conference with him in a few very discreet words, which the rest
+could not hear, though there was no sign of any intention of keeping the
+consultation from them.
+
+"I think it will be wonderful not to know until I taste it and maybe not
+then!" exclaimed the author, with another of her sea-gray, long-lashed
+glances of worshiping admiration at Mr. Vandeford, the eminent Broadway
+producer who was putting a great star into her play based on the
+adventures of an ancestress.
+
+Of course the situation was dangerous to both Mr. Vandeford and his
+author, but who was to blame?
+
+And the jolly, impromptu luncheon-party was not the kind of episode that
+could soon be forgotten by any of the guests. The unknown food for the
+author was served by the head waiter himself, and he refused to answer
+questions as to its origin or component parts, even when urged by Mr.
+Dennis Farraday. The expression on Miss Lindsey's face after her
+encounter with the steak and mushrooms, served with an exalted baked
+potato, was one of decided relaxation. The look of affection in her eyes
+as she glanced at the author who had dragged her into this food
+situation rivaled the suddenly rooted admiration which beamed in the
+eyes of Mr. Dennis Farraday and which put Miss Hawtry alertly on watch,
+so much so that Mr. Godfrey Vandeford was privileged to lean back in his
+chair behind a mist of cigarette-smoke and let his eyes gleam where they
+listed.
+
+"Now tell us just how you happened to think of all the wonderful things
+in your play, Miss Adair, specially that dinner situation," Mr. Dennis
+Farraday urged. He was lighting Miss Hawtry's cigarette, to the intense,
+though concealed, interest and astonishment of Miss Adair of Adairville,
+Kentucky. He thus asked sincerely and interestedly the usual question
+that the unsophisticated fires at an author at the first opportunity and
+which the author, no matter how sophisticated, really enjoys answering.
+
+And thereupon followed the story of the old letters in the trunk, with
+the mortgage only so lightly and proudly alluded to that the hearts of
+the listeners were decidedly touched, told by the author with the
+delighted enthusiasm that their sympathy warranted.
+
+"And so you see, since it couldn't be oil-wells or gold mines it had to
+be the play," she ended, quoting herself in her conversation with the
+faithful Roger, who was at that moment following his plow with his mind
+on the straight furrows and his heart in New York.
+
+"You are a precious darling, and your play _must_ succeed!" said Miss
+Lindsey impulsively at the end of the recital, and then she quickly
+glanced at Mr. Godfrey Vandeford to see if he resented her taking this
+affectionate liberty with his distinguished author. She found that
+eminent producer not at home to her glance; he was lost in contemplation
+of tears that hung on the long black lashes that veiled Miss Adair's
+gray eyes and a little quiver that manifested itself on her red lips.
+Then she shook off the tears by lifting those long lashes so that she
+could look straight into his eyes with a smile of absolute confidence in
+his intention and ability to remove from her life forever all of her
+distress, which was alone poverty in the concrete, by being the
+successful producer of her wonderful play. Men of Godfrey Vandeford's
+type admit many strange fires and their votaries into the outer temple
+of their hearts, but they keep the inner shrine tightly surrounded by
+asbestos curtains. However, there is always one, and one only, closely
+guarded entrance through which the ultimate woman must slip in an
+unguarded moment. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford would never have thought of
+being on any particular guard against the author of a play in purple
+ribbons entitled "The Renunciation of Rosalind," but he knew almost
+instantly that something dire had happened to him as he sat and writhed
+at the thought of his plans for the extinction of that piece of dramatic
+art, which he had not even read. The whole sophisticated world has
+decided that there is no such thing as love at first sight, except the
+biological scientists and they know and can prove that such a thing does
+exist and that it is a worker of wonders. And dire pain is one of its
+reactions.
+
+But all agony comes to an end and so did Mr. Vandeford's. Miss Hawtry,
+who had been so busy in her own mind with her own schemes that she had
+no time to listen to Miss Adair's, picked up her gloves from beside her
+final coffee-cup, and pulled the fine-meshed veil down over her
+beautiful, though slightly snubbed, nose as a signal for a separation of
+the group of feasters.
+
+"May I motor you to your hotel, Miss Adair?" she asked very sweetly. Of
+course Patricia did not know that she had got in her invitation at the
+first signal of the feasters' disintegration, which she herself had
+given, for the purpose of forestalling a similar invitation from Mr.
+Farraday, whose Surreness she knew must be moored somewhere near. "Where
+are you stopping?" she asked with very little interest, and received an
+answer that almost upset her equanimity.
+
+"I'm staying at the Young Women's Christian Association," calmly
+announced the author of "The Purple Slipper," with no sense of
+embarrassment in either voice or manner. "Thank you for offering to take
+me there, but Mr. Farraday is going to take Miss Lindsey and me to buy a
+hat at a place which Miss Lindsey knows of. She is going to buy one,
+too, now that she is going to play in our play."
+
+"The Y. W. C. A.! Great guns!" muttered Mr. Vandeford under his breath,
+while the Violet leaned back in her chair and fanned herself.
+
+Then very suddenly Mr. Vandeford sat up and looked at Miss Mildred
+Lindsey keenly for half a second.
+
+"We'll have to go back to the office to get that check for Miss Lindsey
+before we go hat-hunting," announced good Dennis, with a calmness that
+made Mr. Vandeford suspect that he had met the fact of the eminent
+author's abiding-place before and had got used to it. "You and Miss
+Hawtry going over to the office, Van, or will you come with us, if she
+has other folderols to follow in a different direction?"
+
+"I am to see Adelaide about my costumes for 'The Purple Slipper' at
+two-twenty, so must forego the pleasure of--of hat-hunting this
+afternoon," Violet murmured faintly. "But I know Mr. Vandeford will
+adore going with you." Miss Hawtry felt that safety lay in numbers, and
+she preferred to leave the unsophistication of Miss Adair with both Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford and Mr. Dennis Farraday than with either of them
+alone.
+
+"I wish I could get out after the hat, but you people must remember that
+I am putting on 'The Purple Slipper,' and I have to be about Miss
+Adair's business while old Denny buzzes about hat roses, free and equal
+with her," answered Mr. Vandeford. His envy, apparent in his voice, of
+the care-free state of Mr. Farraday was very real, though none of the
+others could guess its meaning. "I'll see all of you later. By!" and
+with a sign to the head waiter, which tied tight Mr. Farraday's
+purse-strings, Mr. Vandeford left them while the going was good. So
+determined was his exit that Miss Hawtry could not keep him back for the
+finish of the fight.
+
+And Mr. Vandeford was in a mortal hurry. He had much to do and undo. He
+arrived at his office, three squares away, slightly out of breath.
+
+"Did you see her, Pops?" he demanded of Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"I did, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and here is a carbon of the letter I sent
+her, not with any encouragement to come to New York at all," and in
+self-defense he handed out to Mr. Vandeford a copy of the letter Roger
+had delivered to Patricia among her roses and young onions and
+string-beans.
+
+"Take it away," commanded Mr. Vandeford, seating himself at his desk and
+wildly shunting papers and letters about.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford, sir, I am sorry for that young lady and I ask you to
+have a heart," Mr. Meyers ventured to say to his chief with a boldness
+which he himself could not understand, but with which Mr. Vandeford was
+strangely patient. He ended with, "It will be a nobleness for you to not
+produce a cold show for her, but pay a small damage sum for such a
+beautiful lady and call it all off."
+
+"My God, Pops, I'd give half the 'Rosie Posie' to be able to do it! But
+Denny and Violet and that girl they engaged for support have already
+filled her full of success dope about the play, and if I call it off
+arbitrarily, where shall I stand with her?" Ignorance of the
+completeness of his own capitulation to the faith and tears in the
+sea-gray eyes, and the genuine, grown-on-the-spot blush from Adairville,
+Kentucky, showed in the consternation with which he asked the question
+of his henchman.
+
+"'Stand with her'!" repeated Mr. Meyers, with a consternation that
+matched his chief's, but was of different origin. "You had no such fear
+when you called off from rehearsals in the second week the comedy of Mr.
+Hinkle, and a fourth of the damages paid to him will to her be--"
+
+"Get to work under your hat, Pops, get to work! The 'Purple Slipper' has
+got to go on Broadway and go big. I followed that purple hunch for pure
+cussedness against Violet, and now watch it lead me by the nose. You
+get Gerald Height on the wire as soon as you can, while I talk to
+Rooney."
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it is not a Hawtry play, and--"
+
+"Get busy, get busy, Pops! Put a copy of that manuscript on my desk
+where I can lay hands on it the minute I get a chance. Get everything
+going for a week later than I first called the show and--"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"Here we are!" exclaimed Mr. Dennis Farraday, as he burst into the outer
+office, ushering as a wedge before him Miss Patricia Adair and Miss
+Mildred Lindsey. "Got that hat-check, Pops? Money, I mean, for Miss
+Lindsey, not a pasteboard for your own lid from some hotel."
+
+For a minute Mr. Vandeford lost himself in the depths of the worshiping,
+gray eyes that seemed to have been lifted to his for all eternity in
+that terrible faith and gratitude. Then he went into action as captain
+of the ship which was to come into the port of Adairville, Kentucky,
+with all sails set, loaded or bearing his dead body.
+
+"You and Miss Adair extract money from Pops with a can-opener while I
+discuss a few details with Miss Lindsey, in the office," he commanded
+coolly, ushered Miss Lindsey into the sanctum and softly closed the
+door.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford," Miss Lindsey began rapidly, "I knew it wasn't fair to
+make any definite arrangements with Mr. Farraday, and of course I will
+take whatever salary you--"
+
+"Where do you live, Miss Lindsey?" Mr. Vandeford interrupted to ask with
+a totally unwarranted interest on the part of a manager in the affairs
+of an actor he has engaged. Miss Lindsey, for the second time that day,
+underpainted her own cheeks and laughed as she answered:
+
+"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't believe me, but I also live at the
+Y. W. C. A., though I give Mrs. Parkham's as my address for letters and
+telephone calls. It's cheap and--and I have done dining-room work there
+for a month, waiting--waiting for--for a part in a play."
+
+"Great guns, how that hunch works!" exclaimed the well-known producer,
+as he sank into his chair from positive weakness. "You take in this
+situation, don't you?" he demanded with a quick recovery.
+
+"I think I do," answered Miss Lindsey. Then she lifted her big black
+eyes, in which shone the psychic hunger, though that of the body had
+been appeased. "I've got to make good, Mr. Vandeford, and I'll do
+anything you want me to. I've got every right--to live at the Y. W. C.
+A., and a right to hand food to--to that child in there. You can trust
+me."
+
+"I believe I can," Mr. Vandeford answered, after looking at her keenly
+for a few seconds with the glance with which he had picked his winners
+or failures in the human comedy for many experienced years. "Stop your
+dining-room work at the nunnery and see that she has a good time, just
+you and she together. I'll send you matinee tickets to shows I want her
+to see, and Mr. Farraday and I'll look after the other amusement. I want
+her to meet only the people I introduce her to, and the Y. W. C. A. is
+the best place to live in New York--for her. Understand?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Find out how much money she has."
+
+"I know now; she told me. She's got a ticket home, good until October
+first, and a hundred dollars to last until--until the royalties come in
+from the play. Those royalties have got to come in, too, or her
+grandfather--" Miss Lindsey's voice was positively belligerent as she
+began to put the situation up to Mr. Vandeford, whose heart, as that of
+a theatrical manager, she felt, must be hard by tradition.
+
+"Yes, I know all about that. You get what money you want from Mr. Meyers
+out there, and fool her about what things cost as much as you can--until
+the royalties come in. Let me know when things don't run smoothly for
+the two of you. Of course, this is worth money to you and--"
+
+"I don't want money for--for--looking after her."
+
+"How much did Mr. Farraday offer you for your part?"
+
+"He doubled it when he saw that I was--was hungry, but I know a hundred
+and twenty-five is right and that's all I expect."
+
+"The one-fifty stands. If all goes well I'll see you get your chance on
+Broadway this winter. We understand each other now; don't we?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then get the hat quest going. I'm busy."
+
+"Five dollars is her outside limit."
+
+"Can't you juggle?"
+
+"I'll try, but she's--well, you know what a girl like that is."
+
+"Go to it!" With which command Mr. Vandeford led the way into the outer
+office. A brief aside put the situation he had just adjusted into the
+willing ear of his co-producer, who beamed with satisfaction at the
+idea of the joint nesting of these first two theatrical experiences he
+had captured at the outset of his quest for adventure in the white
+lights. He immediately began counting Miss Lindsey's advance into her
+hand, thus giving Mr. Vandeford a word alone with his eminent author,
+beside Mr. Adolph Meyers's big window.
+
+"Miss Lindsey tells me that she also lives at the Y. W. C. A.," he said
+with a curious paternal glow in his solar plexus that he had never
+experienced before.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad! I know that is foolish of me, but I am a little
+frightened. I don't know anybody in New York except you and her
+and--I've never been in a big city before, and only in Louisville a few
+times with my aunt. I'll enjoy it if she will take me places and bring
+me back and forth to rehearsals," and the gray eyes beamed with relief
+and anticipation of being led forth from the Y. W. C. A. into the gay
+world by a competent guide. "Can we go to some of the _the dansants_ in
+the afternoon, and maybe to the Metropolitan and the Aquarium?"
+
+"Yes, all those places and more," assented Mr. Vandeford, with a
+suppressed smile at the diversity of amusements his charge had planned
+in her sallies from the Y. W. C. A. "You see, it is both the duty and
+the pleasure of a producer of a play to see that his author has a good
+time while in the city." It was a surprise to Mr. Vandeford to find
+himself thus stating the case inversely.
+
+"Oh, but I mean to work hard to help with 'The Purple Slipper,' so I'll
+be too tired to bother you much to take me places. And I know how hard
+you work, so don't have me on your mind, will you, please, sir?" The
+lifted curl of the black lashes and the reverential note in the soft,
+slurring, Blue-grass voice almost upset the staid deference with which
+Mr. Vandeford was conversing with the author of his new Hawtry play.
+
+"Oh, play producing isn't so hard on the producer and the author, so
+we'll have lots of time to frolic," he hastened to assure her, though an
+uneasy little pang shot into his heart as he thought of just what befell
+the average author at the rehearsals of his or her play, and he took an
+additional vow of protection. "Shall I come to take you to dinner and to
+a show to-night?"
+
+"Oh, I'd love it," she answered, and again the color came up under the
+gray eyes. "It would be wonderful to have you show me Broadway the first
+time. I could never forget that."
+
+Then a thought delivered a blow that laid the producer of "The Purple
+Slipper" low. The afternoon was half gone, and there were dozens of
+wires that he must manipulate since he had had a change of--heart,
+concerning "The Purple Slipper," and dinner-time and evening were the
+only hours that some of the most important could be found.
+
+"Oh, but I can't ask you to do that," he exclaimed, and for almost the
+first time since the day of his graduation he felt color rise up under
+his own tanned cheeks. "I have to see the stage director and a lot more
+people about some things connected with your play. Still, I can't bear
+to have anybody else get that first night on Broadway away from me. I
+think it is due me." Being herself entirely sincere, Patricia recognized
+the utter sincerity of the distress in the voice of her producer where
+any other woman would have been doubtful of the ready excuse coming
+immediately after the invitation.
+
+"Then I'll just go to bed early and rest up from the trip, so that I can
+go with you whenever you get the time to take me. You are working for us
+both about the play, and if you had rather I waited for you, that is
+only fair," Miss Adair hastened to assure him with a sincerity equal to
+his own.
+
+"You are one good sport," was the reply that he made her straight from
+the shoulder, for the thought of a perfectly beautiful girl going to bed
+in the Y. W. C. A. and covering up her head and ears from the bright
+lights of her first night in old Manhattan just to give a strange and
+reverenced man the pleasure of introducing her to the old city made a
+profound impression upon him. "To-morrow night we'll wake up things on
+Broadway. I'll telephone you in the morning to let you know how the play
+is going and to see if there is anything I can do for you. Now you must
+all go and let me get busy."
+
+"Yes, this is just about the hour that hats begin to bite well,"
+assented Mr. Farraday, as he removed the girls down to his car with no
+thought or question as to whether his services would be needed in the
+enterprise in which he had embarked with Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Now for it, Pops!" said Mr. Vandeford as the door closed behind his
+co-workers in the production of "The Purple Slipper," whose work at that
+moment was to play at a distance from his labor. "I'm going to read that
+play, and nothing short of something that will injure its prospects if
+neglected by me must disturb me. When I'm done I'll make plans with you.
+It will take me several hours, and you stand by every second of the
+time. Get me?"
+
+"Yes, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Adolph Meyers, and he shut his
+door into the outer office just as Mr. Vandeford closed his own with a
+bang.
+
+Then for three hours or more, while the sun sank behind the Palisades
+and the white lights flashed up from Broadway beneath his window like
+bits of futile challenges to the dying light of day, Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford went through the supreme agony of a long life on Broadway, and
+was paid in full for every double-cross he had administered to a
+confrere. He read "The Purple Slipper" and groaned aloud from page to
+page. He began its perusal sitting erect in his chair, and he ended it
+hunched over its pages spread on his desk with his head in his hands,
+his fingers desperately clutching his shock of gray-sprinkled hair. Then
+in a complete collapse he flung himself back in his chair, elevated his
+feet to the edge of the desk, and began literally to devour the smoke of
+a small black cigar. For half an hour he sat motionless, as was his
+habit when fighting all preliminary battles, and his eyes seemed to be
+seeing the big old monster city open its thousand gleaming eyes and
+change its roar of the day to an incessant purr of a night-stalking
+beast, but in reality he was seeing and hearing a month into the future,
+and the spectacle thus pre-visioned was the first night of "The Purple
+Slipper" on Broadway. Then very suddenly he came back into his conscious
+self and went into action. He rang the buzzer for Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Pops, get Grant Howard on the wire and ask him to come around here as
+quick as he can make it. If he talks straight wait an hour for him, if
+he's thick-tongued go after him yourself. Get him! Now put me on the
+wire with Rooney if you can find him, and make appointments with
+Lindenberg for scenery at eleven in the morning. Ask Corbett to send an
+artist to talk costumes for a period play at eleven-thirty, and have
+Gerald Height here at twelve sharp. Don't forget to engage that
+good-looking youngster--Leigh, I think is the name--even if you have to
+give him a hundred advance. That's all for the present. Get Rooney for
+me." Mr. Vandeford turned to his desk and began making rapid notes on a
+pad with a huge, black, press pencil. For five minutes he spread his
+thoughts upon the paper in great smudges; then his telephone rang, and
+he took up the receiver:
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Yes, this is Mr. Vandeford speaking. Hello, Billy!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That new Hawtry play is beginning to promise something. I'm delaying it
+a week, and I want you to come into it with your sleeves rolled up. We
+may make a sure-fire hit of it."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, no, I'll keep right on getting 'The Rosie Posie Girl' in shape, and
+shunt Hawtry into it as soon as she cinches the public in this play--or
+fails."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That was just what I was going to hand you--you get four hundred a week
+for this show, but you'll have to go in and earn it. It's a departure,
+and you may not like it. You'll have to hammer it a lot, but I'm not
+signing a single 'Rosie Posie' contract until I see this in shape."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I mean it. A stage manager has to take my stuff all hot even if he
+thinks some of it is cold. Get me?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That's good. I'll give you the completed manuscript Saturday so you can
+pound and set it for Monday next."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"That's good. By!"
+
+With which short, but sure, wire-pulling Mr. Vandeford opened his
+campaign to double-cross his own original plans. He had hardly stopped
+fixing Mr. William Rooney when Pops looked in upon him and announced Mr.
+Grant Howard, the eminent playwright.
+
+"Hello, Grant," was Mr. Vandeford's short and unenthusiastic greeting to
+the small, black-haired person with weak, pink-rimmed, blue eyes, who
+sauntered into the sanctum and dropped sadly into a chair with his back
+to the light. A cigarette hung from the left corner of his upper lip,
+and his hands trembled. "Been hitting 'em up?"
+
+"Yes," answered the playwright, laconically.
+
+"Broke?"
+
+"Pretty bad."
+
+"Want to doctor a play for Hawtry for me by Friday next for a thousand
+dollars cash?"
+
+"Cash now?"
+
+"Cash Friday."
+
+"Would have to lock myself up in my apartment to do it; but Mazie's been
+crying for gold-uns for a week."
+
+"Send Mazie to me, and I'll fix that, and hand you the thousand on
+Friday. Here, take this manuscript over in my other office and be ready
+to talk it over with me by ten o'clock. I'll see Mazie in the meantime."
+Mr. Vandeford placed the precious "Purple Slipper" in the hands of a man
+who at that very moment had two successful plays running on Broadway,
+his interest in both of which he had sold out for a mess of pottage to
+be consumed in the company of Miss Mazie Villines of the "Big Show."
+
+"Dolph had better order me up a little cold wine to start on," said Mr.
+Howard, as he rose languidly to incarcerate himself at the bidding of
+Mr. Vandeford. The same scene had been enacted between the two bright
+lights of American drama several times before with very good results.
+Mr. Howard's brain was of that peculiar caliber which does not originate
+an idea, but which inserts a solid bone construction as well as keen
+little sparklets into the fabric of another's labor, and makes the whole
+translucent where before it may have been opaque. On Broadway he was
+called a play doctor, and Mr. Vandeford was not the first manager who
+had shut him up with quarts of refreshment to tinker on the play of many
+a literary, dramatic, bright light.
+
+"Dolph will give you scotch and soda to your limit, no further,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford, without graciousness. "I'll be here waiting for
+your talk-over at ten-thirty o'clock."
+
+"All right. Have Mazie come for me after her show?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+With which the eminent playwright betook himself to a small private
+office which opened into the lair of Mr. Adolph Meyers. After he had
+entered that retreat Mr. Meyers softly rose from his typing machine and
+as softly locked him in. Then he proceeded to hunt for Miss Mazie
+Villines until he got her into conversational connection with Mr.
+Vandeford. They conversed in these words with great cordiality:
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Want to earn a nice little two hundred for keeping Grant Howard working
+at doctoring a play by next Friday for me?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"I'm giving him a thousand if it's delivered Friday."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Two hundred to you."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Not three!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"There's Claire Furniss. Grant had her at supper last night at Rector's.
+She's a beauty, you know."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Two fifty."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Goes!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Good! Come get him here at my office at eleven-fifteen. Get a taxi by
+the hour at your stage-door--on me--and come by for him."
+
+. . . . . .
+
+"Good girl! By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+"What a life!" Mr. Vandeford muttered to himself, then rang his buzzer
+for Mr. Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Pops, it's eight o'clock. Go get us a couple of slabs of pie at the
+automat, and then I'll go over to see Breit at the booking office."
+
+"Yes, sir, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Meyers acquiesced, and departed in search
+of provender for the lion and himself. Left to himself, Mr. Vandeford
+fell into another trance, from which he was dragged by another tinkle of
+his telephone.
+
+"There'll be a wireless to my grave," he muttered as he took down the
+receiver and snapped into it:
+
+"This is Mr. Vandeford talking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, Miss Adair. Anything the matter?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Speak a little closer into the phone. Miss Hawtry has asked you to
+supper to-night? Mr. Farraday? And myself?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Did she say I was to come for you?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Do you know, I feel like a brute, but I'm going to tell you to go to
+bed as per promise. I've got two big guns from Broadway putting licks on
+the production of 'The Purple Slipper' until the small hours to-night,
+right here in the office. I'll tell Miss Hawtry about it, and you
+can--go to bed."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, yes, she'll understand. It's her play too, you see."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, you can't help me to-night, thank you just the same. How's Miss
+Lindsey? Would you like me to send my car to take you girls for a little
+spin in the park to cool off before you go to bed?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Her hair's wet? And so is yours? I didn't know it was raining."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Oh, a mutual shampoo? Bless you both!"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, you don't interrupt me when you call me. You are to call me any
+time you are willing to do it, if it is every five minutes."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"No, I mean it."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Very well then--good-night and good dreams."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Can you beat it?" Mr. Vandeford smiled to himself as he hung up the
+receiver. "Those two peachy girls washing each other's hair in the Y. W.
+C. A., within ten blocks of the 'Follies' is to laugh--or cry. Good
+little Lindsey! I wager she could have got 'em both forty-seven-eleven
+dates." Then a thought delivered a blow just above his belt in the
+region of his heart. "So it's Violet's game to use her as a decoy-duck
+for Denny?" he questioned himself, then gave his own answer in a soft
+voice under his breath. "Damn her!"
+
+Furthermore he did not communicate with Miss Hawtry to give her Miss
+Adair's answer to her invitation. He answered it in person, but only
+after much had happened in the three hours intervening.
+
+The hours from eight to nearly ten Mr. Vandeford spent in slowly
+munching the refreshment retrieved from the automat by Mr. Adolph Meyers
+and thinking out loud to that dignitary who took down his thoughts on
+paper in cabalistic signs of shorthand. They were all notes of what
+could and must be done in the next few days in the fight for the good
+fate of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I want to see that fellow Reid about that new lighting he provided for
+the new Sauls show in May. I liked it in some ways and--" Mr. Vandeford
+was saying when a banging on the door of the private office in which was
+incarcerated the eminent playwright interrupted him.
+
+"Did you give him the right amount of booze, Pops?" Mr. Vandeford asked.
+
+"Entirely right," answered Mr. Meyers, with his pencil still poised over
+his pad. The knocking continued.
+
+"See what he wants, Pops, and give him a little more if you have to,"
+decided Mr. Vandeford, as he lit a new cigar and turned to the whirlpool
+of his desk while he waited for Mr. Meyers's return.
+
+"Say, do you expect me to cast a Sunday School charade into a play in
+six days, Vandeford?" was the storm of words hurled at him as the
+released and infuriated doctor of plays hurled himself and his sheaf of
+manuscript into the door ahead of Mr. Meyers.
+
+"Is that what you think of it?" calmly questioned Mr. Vandeford, as he
+swung around in his chair. "Sit down and tell me what you intend to do
+for it."
+
+"I'm going to rewrite the whole blamed mess for fifteen hundred dollars,
+that's what I'm going to do," announced Mr. Howard with both
+belligerence and excitement in his voice and in the flash of his sick
+little eyes.
+
+"Is it as good--or as bad--as all that--money?" questioned Mr.
+Vandeford. "You'll have to show me," he added calmly, though in the
+vitals of his heart he was relieved that Howard still spoke of "The
+Purple Slipper" as a carcass on which to operate.
+
+"It's got a perfectly ripping, basic, sex-comedy idea that climaxes the
+third act; the rest is piffle."
+
+"I thought some of the character drawing, and one or two of the
+sentimental bits were--actable," Mr. Vandeford ventured, determined to
+save as much of the hair and hide of Miss Adair's child as possible,
+enough at least to help her to recognize and claim it later.
+
+"Oh, we can leave enough bits to anchor the author's name, if that is
+what you mean," the playwright admitted impatiently. "How about fifteen
+hundred? I won't do it for less."
+
+"Goes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest ease with which he had
+ever dispensed five hundred dollars in all his life. "Now shoot me your
+layout of the whole thing before Mazie gets here to take you and lock
+you up."
+
+"I'm going to take that dinner scene where the wife holds her husband's
+enemies and her lover at bay to see if he gets back home on a
+sporting-chance bet with lover, and write Hawtry both back and front of
+it; write her in as the virago she is and give her a chance to act
+herself for once."
+
+"Good idea," admitted Mr. Vandeford. "But you'll have a hard time
+writing a gutter girl into a grand dame, won't you?"
+
+"Women are all alike, and the worst viragos are the grand dames. It
+takes a gutter girl to play one let loose, as they do only on rare
+occasions. I've got 'em in my own family. That's the reason I'm a black
+sheep turned out. Got a sister that's worse than me, only respectable
+and fashionable. See?"
+
+"Yes, I see," again admitted Mr. Vandeford. "You'll keep all the
+atmosphere and minor stabs in, you say?"
+
+"Sure. They are pretty good staggers, some of the minor stuff. Lots of
+it is good talk--only wandering. That woman may write something some day
+if she breaks loose and goes to the devil for a while."
+
+"She won't," said Mr. Vandeford, positively.
+
+"Never can tell," answered Mr. Howard, with indifference. "What did
+Mazie say?"
+
+"She's due here for you now," answered Mr. Vandeford, looking at his
+watch.
+
+"Great girl, Mazie. Cooks me dandy rice and runny eggs, and sits on the
+neck of every bottle in New York while I dig. Couldn't do without her.
+Say, tell her you are just giving me five hundred, will you?"
+
+"She knows it's a thousand," answered Mr. Vandeford, truthfully. "But
+I'll keep the extra five hundred you are extracting dark for you."
+
+"That's good, and I'll tell her that I haven't got any--"
+
+"Tell her that you haven't got any money, as usual," were the words
+which Mr. Howard's fair lion-tamer used to finish his sentence of appeal
+to Mr. Vandeford for his co-operation in fraud. She had entered past Mr.
+Meyers with his full approval, for he felt a great relief at the sight
+of her and her guardianship.
+
+"How's Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he rose and, with all the
+ceremony he would have used for a grand duchess--or Miss Patricia
+Adair--offered a chair to the pert little person with her funny,
+good-humored, rather pretty face and her very smart clothes.
+
+"Kicking along, Mr. Vandeford, thank you," was the answer. "Gee, but I
+did kick the limit to-night, that's sure. I put some shady shines over
+what Grant wrote into a let-down in my part for me last night in great
+shape. They et it up, darling." Her naughty face beamed on Howard.
+"Hawtry was in a box, left. Had a gink in soup to fish with her that
+looked like real money. Have you rented her out?"
+
+"You folks get along and stop that taxi meter you've got running on me,"
+Mr. Vandeford said, answering the sally with a laugh; but it surprised
+him that there was a cold space in his vitals at the insult that the
+little trollop handed him with such comradery, guiltless of any
+knowledge that it was an insult.
+
+"What was that about touching pitch?" he asked himself as he walked
+rapidly up four blocks to the theater where Mazie had told him he would
+find the Violet with her prey. He was just in time to meet them in the
+lobby. Denny was in the gorgeousness of his "soup to fish," Mazie's and
+her world's term for evening attire, and the Violet in every way matched
+his good looks.
+
+"Why, where is Mademoiselle Innocence?" asked Hawtry, with a little
+frown, as she perceived that Mr. Vandeford was alone and not in regalia.
+
+"Asleep at the Y. W. C. A.," he answered shortly.
+
+"Sure?" asked the Violet, with a little laugh for which he could have
+killed her.
+
+"Why, she promised Miss Hawtry to go to supper with us and see a
+midnight show," Mr. Farraday exclaimed, and there was disappointment in
+his voice as he looked at Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I couldn't get away from the office until just this minute, and I
+didn't think I could get away this soon. Miss Adair sent her apologies
+to you both, and I came over to bring them."
+
+"Evidently we are not to be trusted with the author, Mr. Farraday,"
+laughed Violet, with what good Dennis took as good nature and what Mr.
+Vandeford knew to be rage.
+
+"Well, bless the child and her beauty sleep, but don't let that kill our
+evening joy. Come along, Van, and we'll go some place sufficiently
+disreputable to admit a crumpled person like yourself if you wash your
+hands. We can have a good powwow over the play. I want to know what you
+have been doing while I was off the job chasing a hat for the author."
+And the big, stupid Jonathan linked his arm in that of his anxious and
+hovering David and drew him along towards the Surrenese, which stood
+across the street, at the same time guiding the steps of the Violet's
+satin slippers in that direction.
+
+While the three walked across the narrow street Mr. Vandeford made some
+rapid calculations and a decision in his mind. He saw plainly that he
+could not undertake to guard Mr. Dennis Farraday from the Violet and at
+the same time fend Miss Patricia Adair from her wiles. He'd have to
+choose between them, and in the twinkling of an eye he chose Patricia.
+It is said that there is a love between men "that passes the love of
+women," but nobody has ever witnessed it.
+
+"You people go on to your show--I'm all in," he capitulated as they
+stood beside Mr. Farraday's car; and the heart of the Violet rejoiced
+within her.
+
+"I'm sure Miss Adair is getting caught up on sleep so she can go with
+you to-morrow night. She's a perfect dear, and we'll put her play
+across," Hawtry cooed to him in her rich voice, and he knew that she
+felt she had struck his price and bought him off.
+
+"If Denny falls for her he'll fall far; but I can't help it. A girl's a
+girl, specially from the country," Mr. Vandeford said to himself, as he
+stood and watched them drive away into the white-lighted canon of
+Broadway. Then he went home and to bed.
+
+A man may put out his night light, stretch himself between his sheets
+with the perfection of fatigue and still not sleep. There are various
+combinations of reasons that prevent his slumber. Mr. Godfrey Vandeford
+was still awake when Mr. Dennis Farraday let himself into his apartment
+with a key that had been presented to him five years before when Mr.
+Vandeford had installed his Lares and Penates in the tall building on
+Seventy-third Street, some of these Lares and Penates being Mr.
+Farraday's extra linen and clothes.
+
+"That you, Denny?" Mr. Vandeford asked as he switched on his light and
+took a hurried glance at a clock on his mantel which registered the hour
+of 2 A. M.
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Farraday, as he came to the door of Mr. Vandeford's
+sleeping apartment. "A thought suddenly struck me, and I stopped in to
+explode it at you and sleep here."
+
+"Fire away!"
+
+"My mater is coming to town the first of the week to have her glasses
+changed, and I'm going to telephone out to her to-morrow and ask her to
+write Miss Adair to have dinner with us informally at the town house
+while she is here. You know mater's mother was from old Kentucky, and
+she'll adore the child. Think that's good thinking?"
+
+"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a glow under his ribs about which
+he said nothing. Men are vastly inarticulate, but they have various
+means of communication, and Mr. Vandeford now felt that in his care of
+his author Mr. Dennis Farraday would understand.
+
+"You know I am on new ground, old chap, but--but how about asking Miss
+Lindsey, too?" Mr. Farraday questioned, with great diffidence.
+
+"Fine!" agreed Mr. Vandeford, with accelerated glow under his ribs that
+Miss Lindsey had been proposed when Miss Hawtry might have been invited.
+"Get to bed, can't you, you Indian, you? Night!"
+
+"Good-night!" answered Mr. Farraday, as he departed to his own room.
+
+And still Mr. Vandeford did not sleep.
+
+Flat upon his back he lay and faced, analyzed, and card-indexed his
+situation and himself.
+
+"Five years of myself given to that gutter girl and I never even cared;
+let her annex me for purposes of parade and publicity, and thought it
+funny sport. Wasted? Something to be deducted for pleasure in artistic
+success of "Dear Geraldine," but what will it cost me if I have to stand
+by and see her make old Denny hate himself as I do myself, or worse?
+She'll not stop short with him, and how do I know what he'll do? The
+money don't matter, but the--cleanliness does. If I go in to save him,
+she gave me notice to-night that she would go for that gray-eyed girl.
+What can she do to her? First, kill her play, no matter what I do to
+build up a success for the kiddie to cancel that mortgage. Second: do
+something, say something that will kill that look in those gray eyes
+when they lift to me. Never! Take Denny, Violet, and the Lord help him;
+I can't. You've bought me. Washing her hair in the Y. W. C. A.! God
+bless that institution and--"
+
+At last Mr. Godfrey Vandeford slept.
+
+After his ten o'clock awakening Mr. Vandeford displayed a marked
+eccentricity in his demeanor. That morning was unlike any morning he had
+ever experienced, and his conduct surprised himself. A daybreak shower
+had fallen on the hot and baked city, and it was as fresh as a suburb.
+Arrayed in the coolest of white silk, linen, and suede, Mr. Vandeford
+had his chauffeur drive him not to the whirling office but to the most
+sophisticated Fifth Avenue florist, where he purchased the most
+unsophisticated bunch of flowers at the highest price to be obtained in
+New York.
+
+"The Young Women's Christian Association," he commanded the obsequious
+young Valentine who drove the big Chambers. Mr. Vandeford was never
+sufficiently unoccupied of mind to pilot a car in and out of New York
+traffic. For half a second the young Frenchman hesitated.
+
+"I don't know where it is--Find out," commanded Mr. Vandeford, and again
+he had the foreign experience of feeling the blood burn the under side
+of the tan on his cheeks.
+
+Valentine consulted the tall man in uniform at the door of the flower
+shop, and this menial consulted some one within, who must have consulted
+a directory, judging from the time it took to obtain the correct
+address. With his eyes straight in front of him, as a chauffeur's eyes
+should always be, he then drove rapidly down the avenue.
+
+And on that beautiful morning Mr. Vandeford's luck was with him.
+Valentine whirled expertly up to the curb in front of the large,
+hospitable building which had emblazoned over its door the impressive Y.
+W. C. A. letters, letters that send a beacon all over the known world as
+they did to Mr. Vandeford in little and unimportant New York. Mr.
+Vandeford got out of the car with hurried grace in his long limbs and,
+with actual trepidation, went in through the door, into a world he had
+never even thought of before. He had entered many an African lion jungle
+with less fear. He glanced with awe at the natty young woman in white
+linen who presided at the desk, and wanted intensely to put his flowers
+behind him and back out of the door rather than approach and ask for the
+lady to whom he wished to donate them. In fact, he might have
+accomplished such a retreat if again luck had not come his way.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Vandeford, how glad I am that you got here before we went out
+to the museum," exclaimed a fluty, slurring young voice just behind him,
+and he found that the gray eyes with the black lashes were just as
+unusual as he had decided they could not possibly be in the interval
+that had elapsed since he had looked into them. "Oh, how lovely!"
+
+The last exclamation was made over the edge of the bouquet, which he had
+tendered Miss Adair as silently as a school-boy hands out his first
+bunch of buttercups to the lady for whom he has picked them.
+
+"Did you come for me to go to help work on the play?" was the energetic
+question that brought him out of his trance.
+
+"No, not right now," he answered haltingly, and when he realized how
+many times he would have to put her off with words to that same effect,
+his trance became a panic.
+
+"When are you going to need me?" Miss Adair asked him with a direct and
+business-like look right to his eyes. "I am ready for work now."
+
+"Now what'll I do?" he demanded of himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+
+"I thought of a lot of new things for my characters to say, while I was
+coming up from Kentucky on the train, and I want to put them in." Miss
+Adair further tortured Vandeford.
+
+"This morning I am going to talk to the electrician and the costumer and
+the scene painter." Mr. Vandeford answered by telling her the truth,
+because, with her very beautiful and candid eyes beaming into his,
+showing both interest and consideration, he had not the power to make up
+any kind of lie to put her off the trail of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I am so glad that I got up early and am ready to go with you! I can
+tell them about what my great-grandmother really wore when it all
+happened, and it will be such a help to them!" Miss Adair exclaimed
+with great business acumen shining in her eyes. Mr. Vandeford gave up
+the fight, piloted her into his car, and gave the command, "Office!" to
+the very decorous, but very much interested Valentine.
+
+As they were skimming back up the avenue and about to turn into
+Forty-second Street, an inspiration came to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Didn't you keep some of those costumes of the period of the play hid
+away in an old brass-nailed leather trunk in your garret?" he asked Miss
+Adair, with desperate eagerness shining in his eyes.
+
+"Yes," Miss Adair answered readily. Then she hesitated, and the genuine
+blush rivaled the one in the northeast corner of the bouquet at the
+waist of the very chic, blue-silk suit. "That is, I did have some--"
+
+"Have they been destroyed?" questioned Mr. Vandeford, with the greatest
+anxiety.
+
+"No, not exactly," answered Miss Adair, with a distressed tremor at the
+corner of her curved mouth that rivaled a rose of a deeper hue in the
+southwest corner of the bouquet.
+
+"I see," answered Mr. Vandeford, with great relief. "You are not just
+sure where they are. That's great! You can have a talk with Mr. Corbett,
+who is to design the costumes, and then hop right back home in a day or
+two, as soon as you are rested and we've had a little bat on Broadway,
+and find them for him to use in his designs. The management will pay all
+the expenses and you can--can--"
+
+Mr. Vandeford cast around in his mind for some other business in
+connection with "The Purple Slipper" that would keep the author thereof
+busy and contented in Adairville, Kentucky, out of the clutches of
+Violet and out of the way of his stage director until it all was running
+smoothly.
+
+"How about your getting a lot of photographs of the house in which it
+all happened?" he went on. Vaguely he felt photography must be a slow
+process in Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+Also, in his heart he was forced to acknowledge that his inspiration for
+getting the author out of the way of her own play while it was being
+murdered was not entirely original. Tradition had told him, whether
+truly or not, that at a certain crucial moment in the butchering and
+rehearsal of "The Great Divide" the poet-author, Moody, had been sent
+West to hunt a genuine war costume for a great Indian war-chief, his
+favorite written character, and on his return with the trophy had found
+the Indian cut entirely and forever from the play.
+
+"Those dresses would be the greatest help you could give us now," he
+urged with an inward chuckle at the thought of the trick on the great
+poet, which froze in his heart as he observed two tears balanced on the
+black lashes of the lovely sea-gray eyes lowered away from his.
+
+"What's the matter?" he gasped, in desperate fear that the Moody Indian
+story had penetrated to the wilds of Adairville, Kentucky. "You'd only
+be gone a few days, and everything could wait until you came back. I
+wouldn't turn a wheel without you, and--" he committed himself deeper
+and deeper at every step.
+
+"I've had the dresses all made over, and this is one. I've hurt my play
+just because I wanted to look pretty in New York! I'm humiliated with
+myself. As if anybody cared how I look; and the play--" The soft little
+slurs stopped and the beautiful old-blue-silk-clad shoulder trembled
+slightly against his shoulder as a little ghost of a sob came to the
+surface and was suppressed while the home-made color faded from beneath
+two tears that fell from the black lashes.
+
+"Oh, please forgive me, child! It doesn't matter at all, and--"
+
+"You oughtn't to forgive me," the voice trembled on. "Miss Hawtry would
+have been wonderful in that dinner dress my grandmother wore, and
+I--I've had two made out of it! I can give them to her and tell her how
+to put them together again with--"
+
+"You'll do nothing of the kind!" fairly snapped Mr. Vandeford. Then he
+broke the record in his own thinking processes and decided for the
+second time to tell the whole truth to this country girl with her
+mixture of hay-seeds and patrician airs. He directed Valentine to
+Central Park and made a clean breast of it. It is a pleasure to record
+that at the Moody Indian story Patricia laughed until two other tears
+ran down her cheeks, but this time they did not wring Mr. Vandeford's
+heart, for they coursed over the accustomed roses and were a great
+pleasure to him.
+
+"I'll go home if you want me to," the talented author of "The Purple
+Slipper" offered, with a small snap in her eyes, mingled with the
+accustomed veneration of Mr. Vandeford, her producer. "I don't want to
+be in anybody's way. I thought I had to come and spend all my money. I
+want to see the Metropolitan and the Aquarium and Brooklyn Bridge and
+Trinity Church, ... and ... a Midnight Frolic, because Mamie Lou
+Whitson, at home, is expecting me to go to one even if Miss Elvira said
+I ought not to. Can I see just one Frolic before I go home?"
+
+"If you go home now the whole 'Purple Slipper' will go into cold storage
+until you come back," Mr. Vandeford growled at her, and the effort it
+took not to hold on to her with bodily fingers was a great strain. "I
+told you the usual situation because I felt that you were clever enough
+to make the best of it and help the play a lot. No author ever has seen
+a play produced as he wrote it, and he has to stand seeing everybody
+take a whack at it, from the producer to the man who takes the tickets
+at the front door. I've got a good playwright shut up until Friday
+rewriting 'The Purple Slipper'; then I'm going to work at it myself and
+let Miss Hawtry write in all the things she wants to say, and cut out
+all the things she doesn't. After that, I'm going to turn it over to
+Bill Rooney, who was born in a barrel down on the wharf and educated in
+the gutter, but who is the best and highest-priced stage director in New
+York. He'll do innumerable things to it while he's 'setting it,' as he
+calls getting it ready for rehearsals. All the actors and actresses will
+be allowed at times to butcher and scalp their parts and everybody will
+stab. And if you are a plucky girl you'll sit still and see it done.
+There will come lots of times that everything you suggest, even very
+timidly, will be thrust down your throat; but if they are vital they
+will get under the hide of Bill and opening night you'll see that your
+pluck has put a lot into the whole thing and that the mutilated and
+dressed-up play is still your child. Will you trust me and sit in with
+me and help me make 'The Purple Slipper' go?"
+
+"I do! I will!" answered Miss Adair, with her head in the air and the
+Adairville roses flaunting themselves in her face. And as she spoke she
+offered him her slim, long-fingered, white little hand that his
+completely engulfed as, answering a signal, Valentine turned the car
+back toward Forty-second Street. "If I've got to have thorns stuck in me
+and then cut out I'm mighty glad you'll be there."
+
+"Yes, I'll be there," he answered her softly, as he released her hand at
+least two seconds sooner than he was really obliged to, though he
+himself could not have said why he did it. He felt like a grown person
+who frightens a child with a bear tale to make it cuddle to his own
+strength in the firelight.
+
+Then followed a day in the offices of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical
+Producer, which, up to that time, could not have been duplicated on
+Broadway and perhaps never will be, though the results may have the
+effect of--but that was all in the future of the theatrical business at
+that time.
+
+"Mr. Meyers," said Mr. Vandeford, as he ushered the author of "The
+Purple Slipper" into the outer offices, where he found Pops soothing and
+controlling about seven enraged experts in different lines of dramatic
+production, "Miss Adair will have the small office from now on to work
+in when she is not in consultation with me. Please take her in and see
+that she is made at home while I run through my mail. Yes, Mr. Corbett,
+I will be ready for you in a few minutes. Sorry to detain you, all of
+you," with which apology to the body of assembled experts Mr. Vandeford
+bowed, went into his sanctum, and firmly closed the door, just as Mr.
+Adolph Meyers bowed the author into her sanctum and as firmly closed her
+door. Mr. Gerald Height, who had been sitting looking indifferently out
+of Mr. Meyers' window, looked after the disappearing author as if a
+perfumed breeze had suddenly blown across his brow, and whistled softly.
+
+"Say, Pops, who, by thunder is--," he was questioning Mr. Meyers with
+extreme interest, when Mr. Vandeford's buzzer sounded and Mr. Meyers was
+forced to answer it before he could attend to Mr. Height's question.
+
+Mr. Meyers found Mr. Vandeford pale, but determined.
+
+"Pops," he said, and Mr. Meyers could have sworn that the voice of his
+beloved chief trembled, "I'm in the devil of a fix, and you have got to
+throw me a line to pull out; in fact, you'll have to cast in a drag-net
+if you want to land me."
+
+"If it was a submarine I would make a rescue of you, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir," the faithful henchman assured the panic-stricken producer.
+
+"She's worse than any submarine ever floated, and I'm rammed--in a
+corner, Pops. To make a story that is going to be long in acting, short
+in telling, I've had to put Miss Adair on to what is usually handed out
+to the authors of plays, and then to stop her wails, offered to let her
+sit in and watch her play baby hacked up. Her office-hours here and at
+rehearsals will be from ten mornings to midnight, and what are you going
+to do about it?" Mr. Vandeford questioned Mr. Meyers with a kind of
+forlorn hope in his eyes, for Mr. Meyers had often seen him through the
+crooks of his trade.
+
+"I advise to make it straight to her, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and she will
+come out all right or otherwise go home. That young lady has the look of
+a horse on which I won seven hundred at the last Gravesend. Besides, we
+have not time for play-acting about that 'Purple Slipper.' It is a cold
+bird and we must be in a hurry about putting pep into it for a success."
+
+"Right-o, Pops! I'll ask her in here, and when I buzz send in Corbett.
+The poor kiddie!" With which lamentation over the fate he was about to
+mete out to Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford dismissed Mr. Meyers and opened
+the door which led from his sanctum into that which had been so recently
+assigned to the author of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+That eminent playwright was discovered in the height of fascination,
+looking down upon the uproar of Broadway.
+
+"I saw a taxicab run over a man and not kill him," she exclaimed with
+both horror and joy. "I started to call you, but it was all over in a
+second."
+
+"That's all right. I've seen that hundreds of times, even when they were
+killed." He reassured her about neglecting to share the excitement with
+him. "Are you ready to take up the matter of costumes with Corbett?"
+
+"Shall I have to tell him--about my making over--"
+
+"No; just listen to me handle him, and I'll tell you when to break in.
+I'll give you a lead. Please come into my office." And with coolness of
+manner, but trepidation of heart, he led her into his office and seated
+her in a chair beside his at the far side of the desk,--the very chair
+in which had sat Mr. Dennis Farraday on the day previous, when he had
+received his initiation into the world of theatricals. Then he buzzed
+his signal to Mr. Meyers.
+
+Immediately Mr. Corbett entered.
+
+"Morning, Corbett.--Miss Adair, the author of the play I want to talk
+to you about.--Want to take on a costume play of early Kentucky?" Mr.
+Vandeford made no pause in which to allow Mr. Corbett to acknowledge his
+introduction to the author, and Mr. Corbett seemed to bear no resentment
+for the omission. His astonishment at meeting an author when the
+costuming of a play was being discussed was profound.
+
+"What date?" he inquired, looking carefully away from Miss Adair.
+
+"What date, Miss Adair?" asked Mr. Vandeford in exactly the same crisp
+tone in which he was conducting the negotiations with Mr. Corbett.
+
+"1806, I think. It was just before they began to wear--" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say with a delighted smile that entirely failed to make an
+impression on Mr. Corbett.
+
+"Good date for costuming," the artist interrupted the author to say,
+with the easy assurance of a person fully informed. "Styles were
+distinctive. I dressed 'Lovers' Ends' for E. and K. in 1789, and the
+costumes kept the piffling play alive for two months. How many dolls and
+how many boots?"
+
+"How many men and how many ladies in the play, Miss Adair?" Mr.
+Vandeford questioned her with delight at getting a question to fling to
+her and also translating for her Mr. Corbett's query.
+
+"Twenty in all," answered Miss Adair. "There are eleven ladies with
+the--"
+
+"Split even," Mr. Corbett took the words out of her mouth. "Want sole
+leather or tissue paper, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair caught by psychic
+sympathy the fact that he was asking if the play was to be costumed as
+one intended to survive. Consequently her very soul hung on the answer
+Mr. Vandeford must make to Mr. Corbett's question.
+
+"To play about thirty, I should say," answered Mr. Vandeford after a two
+minutes' calculating.
+
+"Only a month?" gasped Miss Adair, then colored home-made pink in the
+height of embarrassment.
+
+"Weeks." Mr. Vandeford answered her gasp without looking at her, but
+taking the vow gallantly, considering that he felt Mazie Villines to be
+his sole dependence for a winning manuscript version of "The Purple
+Slipper."
+
+During this question and answer Mr. Corbett was also calculating.
+
+"About seven thousand if Adelaide makes the Hawtry layout," he finally
+announced.
+
+"Five hundred advance for the sketches, and a week's option," Mr.
+Vandeford offered calmly.
+
+"A thousand advance for models of costumes made up," answered Mr.
+Corbett, just as calmly and firmly. "Have to hunt in museum for
+materials to go by. Takes experts on fabrics."
+
+"I can give you pieces of silk and things that are cut from the costumes
+of that period." Miss Adair had learned, and she cut her remark into
+the conference with precision and decision.
+
+"Genuine?" questioned Mr. Corbett.
+
+"Worn by the characters about whom the play is written."
+
+"Then seven hundred and fifty for made-up models, Mr. Vandeford," Mr.
+Corbett offered.
+
+"The pieces will be large enough to make the models," Miss Adair said
+with a curt firmness that was a combination of that used by both Mr.
+Vandeford and Mr. Corbett and which both startled and delighted the
+former.
+
+"Six hundred for models, Corbett," he said with finality and with an
+inward chuckle.
+
+"Six-fifty, Mr. Vandeford," Mr. Corbett answered with equal finality,
+and for the first time he stole a glance at the author.
+
+"Goes! When?"
+
+"Two weeks?"
+
+"Goes! Good-morning, Mr. Corbett!"
+
+Mr. Corbett's exit was immediate.
+
+"I'm glad Miss Elvira made me put all the pieces of my dresses in my
+trunk to patch with in case I tore anything. They saved us four hundred
+dollars, didn't they?" Miss Adair said to Mr. Vandeford with gratified
+business acumen shining in the sea-gray eyes. "I wasn't much in the way,
+was I?"
+
+"You were a great help, and that was the first time I ever succeeded in
+jewing Corbett," answered Mr. Vandeford with satisfactory enthusiasm.
+Something of relief over the guarding of his author showed in his voice,
+which second note, however, he sounded too soon as the next ten minutes
+proved to him. "Now we'll discuss the sets for the production with
+Lindenberg and then it'll be time for luncheon, and we'll go--"
+
+"Mr. Vandeford, sir, Mr. Height would like to be in next," Mr. Meyers
+interrupted his chief, just a second too soon, or rather just in time,
+for if Mr. Vandeford had settled Miss Adair's luncheon plans in that
+second the fate of "The Purple Slipper" might have been different.
+
+"Show him in, Pops, and have the rest come back at two-thirty," Mr.
+Vandeford commanded.
+
+Mr. Gerald Height entered.
+
+For five successive seasons on Broadway, with brief dazzling flights
+into the provincial towns of Chicago, Boston, Washington, and
+Philadelphia, Mr. Gerald Height had been the reigning beauty, and he
+well deserved it. He was both slender and broad, with the grace of a
+faun in young manhood, and with the deviltry of a satyr of more advanced
+age in his yellow-green eyes, which tilted under high black brows that
+were arched penciled bows across his forehead. His lips were full and
+red, but chiseled like a youth's on a Greek frieze and they were mobile
+and tender and hard by turns. His red-gold hair clung to his head in
+burnished waves, and this head was set upon his broad, strong shoulders
+as a flower is set on its parent plant, and his smile was a conquering
+triumph. He poured it all over Miss Adair as Mr. Vandeford introduced
+them, and took the chair opposite the producer and the author, with the
+light from the window fully revealing all of his charms.
+
+"New Hawtry play on, Height, by Miss Adair." Mr. Vandeford began the
+conversation with his usual directness, and somehow his voice was
+crisper than usual, for he seemed to get a shock from the radiance of
+the stage beauty before him that pushed him, with his white-tinged black
+hair, well forward into middle age.
+
+"Dolph was telling me, and I ran through a synopsis he had on the
+machine. Powder and furbelows!" As he spoke Mr. Height smiled at Miss
+Adair with appreciation of herself and got in return a smile of the same
+degree of appreciation of himself, both smiles not at all lost on the
+psychologically aging Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"That clause in your contract that lets you out of all costume plays is
+perfectly good, you know," Mr. Vandeford heard himself saying when he
+had intended to bluster that same clause aside if the favorite had tried
+to stand on it, because he well knew that to see Gerald Height in silk
+stockings and lace ruffles a quarter of a million women might be counted
+upon to pay two dollars per capita and so assure at least a fifteen per
+cent. certainty to the box-office receipts of "The Purple Slipper,"
+whose fate had mysteriously come in the last few hours to mean so much
+to him. "Mr. Meyers has a youngster that we can whip into lead, I think.
+Now thank me for letting you out, and run along."
+
+"Oh," ejaculated Miss Patricia Adair, and the little exclamation of
+dismay hit both men at once and made them both sit up straight in their
+chairs. Also they both looked for a long minute at Miss Adair, and both
+were aware of the other's scrutiny. Mr. Height broke the tension.
+
+"I might see how buckskins and powdered wig would go," he said, with a
+tentative glance across the table, which began with Mr. Vandeford and
+ended with Miss Adair.
+
+"I think you would be perfectly beautiful, and I hope--" Miss Adair
+paused, and Mr. Height was as competent as either Miss Hawtry or Miss
+Lindsey had been to judge of the home-made color under the gray eyes.
+Also he was as much, perhaps more, affected by it, though in the
+presence of Mr. Vandeford he was wise enough to dissemble his delight.
+
+"Want me to try, Mr. Vandeford?" he questioned with greater deference
+than he had ever shown a mere manager in the last five years of his
+triumphant career.
+
+"Of course, it would be a fifteen-per cent. drag if you are willing,"
+answered Mr. Vandeford with managerial delight and manly rage.
+
+"Can I have until to-morrow to decide?" asked Mr. Height. "You see, I
+haven't read the play or heard the layout," he added to the author of
+"The Purple Slipper," with deference in his rich voice that had thrilled
+its millions.
+
+"Could you make it this afternoon if Mr. Meyers goes into it with you?
+My other man has a big picture offered him at a good figure," Mr.
+Vandeford answered, with both fear and joy at the prospect of pressing
+the star into retreat.
+
+"Dolph has told me all he knows about it, which is nothing. He hasn't
+taken out any parts and seems to have lost the manuscript forever. I
+hope you kept a copy, Miss Adair." And again the two young things smiled
+at each other to Mr. Vandeford's devastation.
+
+"Why couldn't I tell Mr. Height about the play while you see the
+electrician and the other people, Mr. Vandeford?" Miss Adair questioned,
+her candid gray eyes shining with such a sincere desire to be useful in
+the crisis that Mr. Vandeford could not suspect her of any adventurous
+motive. "We could go over in--into my office and you can call me any
+minute if you need me."
+
+"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Height. "Then I could let you know right away if
+I thought I could do the part justice, Mr. Vandeford."
+
+"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, as he motioned them into the inner
+office, which had been conferred upon the author of "The Purple
+Slipper," and rang his buzzer for Mr. Meyers.
+
+"Find Mr. Farraday and ask him to come around here immediately if he is
+anywhere near, or to come at four if he can't get here in ten minutes,"
+he commanded. "Heard from Mazie?"
+
+"Mr. Howard is in a good working soak, is her report, Mr. Vandeford,
+sir, and I have the wire that Mr. Farraday is on his way here," was the
+double answer Mr. Meyers returned to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Good! Give me my letters to sign," Mr. Vandeford answered.
+
+Mr. Meyers brought in a sheaf of letters, and Mr. Vandeford was in the
+act of setting pen to paper when the door of the inner office opened
+after a gentle knock and Miss Adair entered, followed by Mr. Height.
+
+Mr. Vandeford looked up quickly and found Miss Adair close beside his
+chair, looking down upon him with her beautiful reverence and confidence
+in him entirely unimpaired.
+
+"Mr. Height wants me to go and have luncheon with him and tell him about
+the play. He's hungry, and so am I. Can you spare me if I'm working
+while I'm eating? May I go?"
+
+Mr. Vandeford rose to his feet quickly, and a great Broadway star was in
+closer danger of descending head-first from a six-story window upon that
+thoroughfare than he ever knew. Then "The Purple Slipper" rose and
+demanded its chance of success with Gerald Height as "drag" and the
+tragedy was averted.
+
+"Run along, children, and don't spill your milk on your bibs," he
+answered them, with a dissembling smile that would have done credit to
+Mr. Height himself when upon the boards with Miss Hawtry. They departed
+in great spirits, and Mr. Vandeford noticed that Mr. Height had not
+been at all concerned as to how his manager's inner man would be served.
+
+Thereupon Mr. Vandeford propped his feet upon the desk, got out one of
+the most evil of the cigars he kept in a drawer of his desk for just
+such crises, and went into communion with himself for ten minutes. Upon
+that communion broke Mr. Dennis Farraday, who got the full force of it.
+
+"I came to pick up you and Miss Adair to go out in the park to luncheon.
+It's cooler there. Where is she?" were the words with which Mr.
+Vandeford's partner in the production of "The Purple Slipper" greeted
+him.
+
+"She has gone out to luncheon with a damned tango lizard," was the
+disturbed and disturbing answer his courtesy received.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Mr. Farraday, bristling.
+
+"She met Gerald Height a half-hour ago, here in this office, and then
+went out to luncheon with him," was Mr. Vandeford's answer to Mr.
+Farraday's bristling.
+
+"Without consulting you?"
+
+"No! I consented all right enough."
+
+"Why didn't you tell her if you didn't want her to go with him?"
+
+"See here, Denny, I want to ask you if anything in my past life makes
+you think that I am a proper old hen to have a downy little chicken
+thrust right under my wing for safe keeping, whether I hatched her or
+not?" Mr. Vandeford demanded, and his rage was so perfectly impersonal
+and perplexed that Mr. Farraday sat down to go into the matter to his
+rescue.
+
+"What do you mean, Van?" he asked in a calm voice and manner that were
+most grateful to Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Just this: Here's a girl come up here, from a place where a girl is
+guarded like a pearl of great price, into the muck and excitement of the
+getting together of a Broadway production in which she is directly
+interested. I don't know what to do. If I spend my time hovering over
+her, her show will go cold and break her. She's poor. I told her as much
+of what she is in for as I dared and still she wants to stay and see it
+all through, demands to stay and be let in for the whole thing. What'll
+we do?"
+
+"Suppose she'd go with me up to visit the mater and be motored down to
+participate in--in expurgated moments?" asked Mr. Farraday, as he
+ruffled his hair into a huge plume on the top of his head.
+
+"She would not. She's got a taste of it and she'll thirst for more. And,
+for all that unsophistication, she is a clever kid. She'll get Height
+into a costume play before luncheon is over and that'll go a long way to
+cinch a hit for 'The Purple Slipper.' He's made a fad of not playing
+costume, and all the women in New York will flock to see him in velvet
+and lace. She bargained that fish Corbett out of four hundred dollars in
+the preliminary costume deal, and if anybody has to send her home it
+will have to be you. I can't do it."
+
+"Well, just gently warn her about Height and things of that kind, can't
+you?"
+
+"I cannot! Would you tell a woman who is walking a tight rope that the
+ground sixty feet below her is covered with broken champagne bottles?"
+
+"Then she's got to go home," decided Mr. Dennis Farraday, positively.
+
+"How'll you make her?"
+
+"You've got to do it. She's got awe of you planted six feet deep in her
+soul. Anybody could see that. You've got to send her."
+
+"Can't be done," growled Mr. Vandeford in desperation. "Wish I were
+married to six respectable women and then I could make 'em all chaperon
+her in turns, while I feed her fool play to the public."
+
+"You'd only have to strike out the syllable 'un' before 'married' by a
+little trip to the City Hall to have one mighty fine wife," Mr. Farraday
+said with a straight look into Mr. Vandeford's eyes, which was so deeply
+affectionate that it gave him the privilege of opening the door to any
+holy of holies.
+
+"Violet and I are all off, Denny, and it ought never to have been on,"
+was the straight-out answer he got to his venture, an answer that Miss
+Hawtry would have felt smoothed greatly the path of her present
+adventures in life.
+
+"Poor girl! I knew she was hurt somehow, but I thought--forgive me, old
+man." With a tenderness in his voice that both alarmed and puzzled Mr.
+Vandeford his big Jonathan closed the subject and snapped a lock on it.
+"Come over to the Astor with me for a cold bite."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+The cool, green-leafed Orangery at the Hotel Astor is the oasis in the
+desert days of rehearsal for all early fall plays, and beside its
+tinkling fountain and under its tinkling music can be found at luncheon
+all of the theatrical profession who are not around the corners at the
+equally cool, white-tiled Childs restaurants. Beside and around the
+green wicker tables careers of managers, artists, actors, playwrights,
+electricians, and scenic artists are made and unmade in the twinkling of
+some bright or heavy-lidded eye. Each and every feaster watches each and
+every other feaster with the quick, wary eye of a jungle being consuming
+its food before it is snatched from him or her; and gossip reigns over
+all.
+
+"Gee, look at the swell dame Gerald Height has got cornered over there!"
+exclaimed Mazie Villines, as she looked up from a frapped melon, which a
+"heavy" moving picture man was "buying" for her consumption. "The way
+them society queens do fall fer him!"
+
+"Put your blinkers on, Mazie, put 'em on, and don't take a shy at Height
+over my knife and fork! Let him eat what he pays for and me the same,"
+growled the huge man. "I let you put up that drunk Howard for a week,
+and that's rope enough."
+
+"I'd like to feed him the green in his 'runny' eggs; it makes me sick to
+open for him," was the adored Mazie's way of speaking of her eminent
+playwright.
+
+"Well, get his wad first," was the heavy's advice.
+
+Just at this moment Mazie had the delight of seeing Mr. Godfrey
+Vandeford enter with his "soup and fish" friend Mr. Dennis Farraday. As
+they both had to pass directly by the table at which sat Miss Adair and
+Mr. Height, of course they both paused for greetings, which included the
+introduction of Mr. Height to Mr. Farraday.
+
+"I could hardly eat in this beautiful cool place when I thought that
+maybe you would work on in the hot office with nothing with ice packed
+around it for your luncheon," said Miss Adair, as she raised her eyes to
+Mr. Vandeford's with the adoration still intact after at least
+three-quarters of an hour assault upon it by Mr. Gerald Height's
+disturbing personality. "I wanted to go back for you, but Mr. Height
+said that Mr. Meyers fed you cold pie when you were busy, and that you
+roared dreadfully if anybody interrupted you when you were eating it!"
+
+"He does," Mr. Farraday interjected, smiling down at her in a way that
+it was unwise to do in the Orangery at noon; and it lighted a fuse he
+little suspected. Miss Violet Hawtry caught the smile in mid-air and
+then promptly turned her back and became all charming attention to the
+gentleman with whom she was having luncheon, who was no other than the
+celebrated Weiner, who had built three theatres in two years and was
+building more. He was of the bull-necked type of Hebrew and not of the
+sensitive, exquisite type of the sons of the House of David to which
+belong the E. & K.'s, and the S. & S., as well as the great B. D.
+
+"When will the new theatre be completed, Mr. Weiner?" Miss Hawtry asked,
+as she turned over an iced shrimp and tore at a lettuce leaf with her
+fork.
+
+"October first," answered Mr. Weiner, past a mouthful of Russian
+herring.
+
+"What will the opening show be?" asked Miss Hawtry, with indifference,
+though there was a glint under her thick lashes lowered over her
+snapping Irish eyes.
+
+"'The Rosie Posie Girl,'" answered Weiner, and he swallowed his herring
+and gave her a shrewd glance at the same time.
+
+"Vandeford will never sell it to you," Miss Hawtry announced calmly, as
+she ate the shrimp and the torn lettuce leaf.
+
+"Maybe!" answered Weiner with equal calmness. "What are his plans for
+his new show that he is tearing up Forty-second Street about?"
+
+"Road from September fifteenth until New York October first."
+
+"What theater in New York?"
+
+"I don't know." As she made this answer Miss Hawtry looked up and caught
+a snap in Weiner's small black eyes, perched on each side of the hump of
+his red nose.
+
+"Has the show got goods?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going to put some into it," answered Miss Hawtry calmly.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"I like Mr. Dennis Farraday, who's Vandeford's angel. I don't want to
+see Van take the money out of his pocket and get away with it." Miss
+Hawtry was dealing in half-truths to a lie expert.
+
+"Hooked Farraday yet?"
+
+"Not quite."
+
+"No use bargaining with a woman when she's fishing for a man, but if he
+slips the hook come to me and I'll show you a new bait. When do you
+open?"
+
+"Twenty-third of September, at Atlantic City."
+
+"I'll be there."
+
+"I hope you will, and--" but the rest of Miss Hawtry's remark was cut
+off by Mr. Dennis Farraday's genial greeting, backed by Mr. Vandeford's
+more restrained pleasure at happening upon her and her co-plotter, to
+whom she introduced Mr. Farraday.
+
+The exchange of amenities was as brief as it was cordial, but as Mr.
+David Vandeford and Mr. Jonathan Farraday passed on to a table which
+the discreet head waiter had reserved in case of the unexpected and
+tardy arrival of just such personages as Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and his
+friend, Mr. Farraday, Miss Hawtry had answered a low-voiced question
+from Mr. Farraday with a sadly tender smile and the words:
+
+"At eight?"
+
+"The Claridge got me a box for the Big Show and a table at the Grove
+Garden for to-night, Van," remarked Mr. Farraday, as he unfolded his
+napkin. "It is the coolest place in town, and we might as well let the
+kid get just one good peep before she goes back into the shell ... if
+she goes. I'll take Miss Hawtry on and leave the box number for you and
+Miss Adair."
+
+"Right-o," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a growl. For the life of him he
+could not understand just why Mr. Gerald Height should have the
+privilege of feeding his author alone, while he seemed to be always
+forced to enjoy her company in the presence of others. He looked across
+the room, met the gray eyes laughing at him over a glass that was
+plainly iced tea, and was forced to exchange smiles with his downy
+little chicken, who was delightedly peeping out of her shell.
+
+"I think Mr. Vandeford is the most wonderful man I ever met," confided
+Miss Adair to Mr. Height, with no suspicion of the incitation such a
+remark would be to the ardor of the beloved of many women.
+
+"He's a great producer; had three big hits hand-running and fell down on
+'Miss Cut-up' because he wouldn't stand up to Hawtry, and let her cop
+the whole show," answered Mr. Height with great generosity, for in
+reality Mr. Height had the very poor opinion of Mr. Vandeford that it is
+the custom of all actors to hold in regard to their respective managers.
+However, he was sugar-coating the pill he was determined to administer
+to Miss Adair without delay. "He ought to marry Hawtry and get a bit in
+her mouth and the spurs on."
+
+"Is--is he in love with Miss Hawtry?" asked the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" with great interest, and the home-made color rose several
+degrees, that were not warranted by the calm gossip of the situation.
+
+"That's the noise he makes, but who can tell?" answered Mr. Height,
+reveling in the Adairville roses and no more aware of their origin than
+was their owner. "He meets bills, but nobody gets in behind his
+window-boxes." And Mr. Height raised his glass of Tom Collins, perfectly
+contented with the thought that he had enlightened Miss Adair about the
+private life of Mr. Vandeford. As a matter of fact he had failed utterly
+to do so, as she had not understood a word of his Broadway patois.
+"There's the great B. D. and beloved son-in-law," and Mr. Height nodded
+and smiled at a white-haired man and his companion who were seating
+themselves at the table next to them.
+
+"B. D.?" questioned Miss Adair.
+
+"Benjamin David," answered Mr. Height. "He and his son-in-law are
+putting on a great new show. Offered me a lead and--but I think I'll
+stick by 'The Purple Slipper.'" His eyes were so ardent as slightly to
+disturb Miss Adair and very greatly disturb Mr. Vandeford, who caught
+the warmth across several tables, and ground his teeth.
+
+However, Miss Patricia Adair was fully capable of handling such a
+situation, for ardor is ardor, whether encountered on Broadway in New
+York or Adairville in Kentucky, and Miss Adair had met it many
+times--and parried it.
+
+"I've really got to leave this perfectly lovely place and hurry down to
+the Y. W. C. A., to get some costume samples for Mr. Corbett," she said
+calmly, as she began to draw on her gloves and pull down the veil that
+reefed in the narrow brim of the jaunty hat Miss Lindsey and she had by
+a great stroke of luck discovered on a side street the day before.
+
+"Y. W. C. A.?" questioned Mr. Height, in stupefaction.
+
+"Everybody looks that way when I say it!" laughed Miss Adair, with a
+dimple flaunting above the left corner of her mouth. "Will you take me
+there or put me on something or in something that will let me off very
+near?"
+
+"I'll take you," answered Mr. Height tenderly and heroically, as he held
+the blue-silk coat for her to slip into.
+
+As the two of them stood together the great Dean of American Producers
+looked upon them with interest, and rose and offered his hand to Mr.
+Height.
+
+"Well, how about it?" he asked, with a smile under his beetling white
+brows.
+
+"Mr. David, please meet Miss Adair, the author of Mr. Vandeford's new
+Hawtry play," Mr. Height said by way of beginning an answer to the
+question put to him. "At last I'm going into wig and ruffles; the play
+is of colonial Kentucky."
+
+"I am delighted to meet you, Miss Adair," said the Broadway Maximus,
+"and you are fortunate to have Mr. Height for your play. I covet him,
+but I'll wait until next time."
+
+"Oh, thank you for not taking him away!" said Miss Adair, with a
+displaying of the roses which the great B. D. noted with pleasure. "Will
+you come and see our play and tell us what you think about it?" Miss
+Adair made her request, which was against the traditions of conventions
+on Broadway, with the unabashed air with which she had invited the
+reigning Governor of Kentucky to have dinner with her and Major Adair at
+the state fair the year before.
+
+"Ask Mr. Vandeford to invite me to a dress rehearsal," answered the
+great one, and Gerald Height beamed with pride, while Miss Adair
+displayed only gratitude and delight as they took their departure.
+
+In their exit they passed Mr. Vandeford's table and stopped to speak to
+him and Mr. Farraday.
+
+"That's Benjamin David Mr. Height introduced to me, and he's coming to
+help us at the dress rehearsals of 'The Purple Slipper.' It's
+wonderful!" Miss Adair exclaimed, as Mr. Vandeford rose and stood
+beside her. "Mr. Height is going down to the Y. W. C. A. with me, and
+we'll be right back to the office with those pieces of silk for the
+costumes. Mr. David wants him for lead, but he's going to be in 'The
+Purple Slipper' and go to Mr. David next. Isn't that fine?" and without
+waiting for an answer to her question the busy playwright departed on
+important business connected with the costuming of her play.
+
+"Somehow, Van, I don't see why we should worry," Mr. Farraday said, as
+he looked at the retreating figures of the pair whose beauty was
+attracting no little attention in the feasting Orangery. "She's getting
+along all right, eh?"
+
+"Remember you've been in the business about forty-eight hours, Denny,
+and never forget that every knife here is sheathed in a smile and
+everybody carries a rubber stamp with double X on it," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, with gloom, as he pushed back his coffee-cup. "She's tasted
+blood now and that ends it. She's with us, and the Lord help her! I
+can't!"
+
+"Well, come on and let's get to the office," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+a cheerful lack of sympathy with his friend's anxiety for the talented
+budding playwright.
+
+"Everything all O. K., Mazie?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he passed the
+table where the Miss Villines and the heavy movie man were finishing
+their bottles of cold beer.
+
+"Soused and scribbling," answered Mazie, cheerfully.
+
+"Remember, Friday."
+
+"Remember your check-book."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+Shortly after Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday reached the office of Mr.
+Vandeford, Miss Adair, accompanied by Mr. Height, appeared with a neat
+little parcel in their possession. Also Miss Adair had another, very
+conventional, corsage bouquet in the place of the one Mr. Vandeford had
+given her in the morning and which at luncheon had begun to look the
+worse for wear.
+
+"Now what shall I do?" she asked Mr. Vandeford, with great energy.
+
+"Go right down and get in my car and go back to the Y. W. C. A., to take
+a long nap. I'll call for you for that Broadway eye-opener at eight
+o'clock to-night, so get 'em well rested," he answered, and he smiled
+when he noted that the expression in her eyes that he had begun to look
+for with desperate eagerness still held. Mr. Meyers had engaged Mr.
+Height with a contract, and Mr. Farraday had been an interested
+spectator to the tussle. Producer and author were alone.
+
+"Mr. Height asked me to go to see Maude Adams, but I told him I couldn't
+go anywhere at night until you could take me," said Miss Adair with
+sparks of joy in the sea-gray eyes. "I'm so glad it is to-night."
+
+"Did you really tell Height that?" demanded Mr. Vandeford, with youth
+swelling through his arteries.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Go, child, go and get a nap," Mr. Vandeford laughed, as he opened the
+door for her and started out to descend and deliver her into the keeping
+of faithful Valentine.
+
+"I'll put her into the car, Van," offered Mr. Farraday. "They need you
+here in this fight."
+
+And again his author was snatched out of Mr. Vandeford's clutches.
+
+Several hours later a very interesting scene was enacted in two tiny
+adjoining rooms under the roof of the Y. W. C. A., with Miss Adair and
+Miss Lindsey as the principals.
+
+"If you take away all that net there won't be any waist left to the
+dress. Don't!" pleaded Miss Adair, as Miss Lindsey stood over her with
+determined scissors.
+
+"I'm making it absolutely perfect, and you can't tell by looking down on
+it. You'll have to trust me," answered Miss Lindsey, with pins in her
+mouth, as she snipped away a funny little tucker of common new net with
+which Miss Elvira Henderson of Adairville, Kentucky, had for the sake
+of her spinster convictions ruined a triumph she had accomplished
+directly out of "Feminine Fashions" and the ancestral trunk.
+
+"Will it be--be modest?" demanded Miss Adair.
+
+"A lot more modest than having that ugly mosquito netting telling
+everybody that you are not willing to have them see your marvelous neck
+and arms except through its meshes. Nobody will think you know you've
+got 'em, if you show them like everybody else; but they'll think you
+think you are a peep-show if you cover them half up." And as she spoke
+Miss Lindsey gave another daring rip and snip. Her philosophy struck
+home.
+
+"That's every word true," agreed Miss Adair, with relief. "I'll just
+forget about my skin there, as I do about that on my face and hands and
+nobody will notice me at all."
+
+"That's it. Skin is no treat to New York, and nobody will look at you
+twice." Miss Lindsey had a struggle to keep her voice and manner
+unconcerned enough, as she surveyed her finished product and saw that
+from under her hands would go forth a sensation. In the old ivory satin
+with its woven rosebuds and cream rose-point, above which rose pearly
+shoulders and a neck bearing a small, proud head, with close waves of
+heavy black hair, Miss Adair was like a dainty, luscious, tropical fruit
+that is more beautiful than its own flower. "How an old maid in a
+country town made that dress I don't see!" Miss Lindsey added
+reflectively.
+
+"It was you, who unmade it," answered Miss Adair with gratitude. "I wish
+you were going, too," she added as she nestled to the taller girl for a
+perfumed second.
+
+"I'm going to luncheon with you and Mr. Farraday to-morrow," answered
+Miss Lindsey, with a pleased laugh at Miss Adair's sudden clinging that
+indicated her sincerity in not wishing to leave her alone.
+
+"Oh, lovely! And Mr. Height will be with us too, for I promised to have
+luncheon with him again," she exclaimed, as Miss Lindsey began to insert
+her into an evening wrap made of a priceless old Paisley shawl which
+"Fashions" had also tempted Miss Elvira to desecrate with her scissors.
+
+"Gerald Height?" asked Miss Lindsey, and her eyes first snapped and then
+smouldered. "Where did he get in on--where did you meet him? Does Mr.
+Vandeford know about it and--"
+
+"I met him in Mr. Vandeford's office. He's in 'The Purple Slipper,' and
+I went to luncheon with him to-day. I meant to tell you about it, and
+meeting Mr. David, but Mr. Vandeford told me to get a nap and I thought
+I--"
+
+Here the speaking-trumpet in the hall informed Miss Lindsey that Mr.
+Vandeford was waiting for Miss Adair below, and she had to let her
+treasure depart from her.
+
+"I wonder just how straight Godfrey Vandeford is," she mused, as she
+picked up the discarded tucker of coarse netting. "The poor kid! I wish
+she was at home hidden behind Miss Elvira's skirts. Hawtry and a girl
+like that! Damn men!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+
+It may be that in the long life of Mr. Godfrey Vandeford he had passed a
+more perturbed evening than that on which he led his protege, the author
+of "The Purple Slipper," to her debut under the white lights of
+Broadway, but he could not recall the occasion. His grilling had begun
+while he waited for his charge to descend in the lobby of the Y. W. C.
+A. and it ended--
+
+"We are delighted to have Miss Adair stay with us while her play is
+being rehearsed," a very pleasant young woman, with a trim figure, kind
+and wise eyes, and gray-sprinkled hair, remarked to him after she had
+whistled the fact of his arrival above. "When such men as you, Mr.
+Vandeford, begin to put on clean historical plays, many of our anxieties
+will be over. I look on each musical show that appears on Broadway as a
+personal enemy."
+
+"I am glad indeed, Madam, that we are going to claim you as a friend of
+'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Vandeford answered, with his most pleasant
+smile. Somehow the sight and sound of that executive young woman in
+charge of his young author gave him a calmness that he needed, and his
+confidence shone in his face.
+
+"We are deeply interested in Miss Adair, for we have had influential
+letters sent us about her, and of course we are looking forward with
+eagerness to seeing her play. She is such a dear child!"
+
+The influential letters and the increased warmth in the young woman's
+tone in speaking about his author drew Mr. Vandeford still nearer to
+her, both in body and in spirit. He leaned slightly against the desk and
+smiled again.
+
+"May I send you seats for some night the first week of 'The Purple
+Slipper'?" he asked, with the greatest deference. And it must be
+recorded that in making the offer Mr. Vandeford was not bidding for the
+distinction conferred on him in the next few seconds.
+
+"That will be delightful," exclaimed the young woman. "And, Mr.
+Vandeford, here is a latch-key to the front door, to use to-night if you
+and Miss Adair are a little later than midnight in coming home. Remember
+to give it to her after you have put her inside the door and tell her to
+hang it on the rack opposite the number of her room. There she comes
+now!"
+
+Mr. Vandeford accepted the latch-key of the Y. W. C. A. with awe and
+looked at it as he would have looked at a decoration handed him by the
+Metropolitan governors. Then he glanced up and beheld Miss Adair
+displaying herself to his new-found friend.
+
+"You are very pretty, my dear," she was saying with an affectionate
+smile. "Just let me put a pin here in this fold of lace," and expertly
+she reefed up the last fold of rose-point that Miss Lindsey had snipped
+down in a hurried finish of her remodeling. Strange to say Mr.
+Vandeford felt still more further drawn to his young Christian
+Association friend.
+
+"Now run along, both of you, and have a pleasant evening," she said to
+them as she turned to answer the telephone.
+
+"That girl is an extremely delightful person," Mr. Vandeford remarked,
+while he and Valentine were tucking Miss Adair under the linen robe in
+the car.
+
+"I'm so glad you are getting used to the Y. W. C. A.," Miss Adair
+answered, giving him a delighted smile as he seated himself beside her
+while Valentine started the car up the avenue. "Mr. Height said it was
+like being forced to go to church in a strange town and getting into
+somebody's cozy corner by mistake."
+
+"I wish I were married to that girl, to-night," Mr. Vandeford exclaimed
+out of the sudden rush of anxiety that had overtaken him by this
+fledgling author's mention of his leading man.
+
+"Then who would be taking me out, out on Broadway?" asked Miss Adair
+with a little laugh that had a more distinctly friendly note in it than
+it had before held for him.
+
+"Both of us," replied Mr. Vandeford, with an answering laugh that
+sounded much too young in his own ears. "You'll need two."
+
+"Am I going to have as many dreadful things happen to me to-night as I
+was going to have when I met Mr. Corbett and Mr. Benjamin David and Mr.
+Height and the other theatrical people? Am I being warned again?" Mr.
+Vandeford accepted the teasing and laughed at himself.
+
+"My wings are up. Go out and scratch for yourself."
+
+"Not very far, though," Miss Adair answered. Mr. Vandeford was not sure
+that she moved a fraction of an inch nearer to him, but he hoped so. "I
+feel just the same about you as I do about Roger and I like to be going
+with you--into--into danger."
+
+"Who's Roger?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"He's my brother, who treats me as you do. It's fun for a woman to be
+frightened dreadfully when she is with a man she likes." Again there was
+that uncertainty as to whether Miss Adair fluttered a fraction of an
+inch in his direction, and for the life of him Mr. Vandeford could not
+say whence had flown all the many ways he would have commanded
+ordinarily for the finding out if such were the case.
+
+"A frightened woman is often rather--rather deadly to a man," he
+answered before he could stop himself. The habit of speaking out
+directly to Miss Adair was growing on him, he perceived, and it alarmed
+him.
+
+"Into what danger are you taking me now?" asked Miss Adair with a fluty,
+merry laugh.
+
+"We are going with Mr. Farraday and Miss Hawtry to see the Big Show and
+to the Grove Garden on the roof afterward for supper. Just a slow, usual
+sort of an evening, but Denny thought it would be fun for you to see
+the Big Show and the Big Feed and the Big Dance by way of initiation,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered, with an entire lack of enthusiasm.
+
+"I wanted to see what you wanted me to see this first night," Miss Adair
+said with the affectionate frankness of six years going on seven. "What
+would that be?"
+
+"We'll see it to-morrow night," Mr. Vandeford answered her, and this
+time the tenderness in his voice surprised him and he considered it
+entirely unjustifiable.
+
+"Mr. Height was going to take me to see Maude Adams, but I know he'll
+put it off again when I tell him that you want me to--"
+
+"No, don't! Let Height get Maude Adams out of his system, for Heaven's
+sake," snapped Mr. Vandeford, this time in unjustifiable temper.
+
+"Why, what is--" Miss Adair was asking of Mr. Vandeford in positive
+alarm when Valentine stopped before the blazing doorway of the Big Show.
+A functionary seven feet tall opened the door of the car and all but
+literally extracted them by force, for he was anxious to repeat the
+operation on the occupants of the car chugging behind them.
+
+Now, there are many, many fair women born within the state lines of Old
+Kentucky who live calm and peaceful lives and die and are buried with no
+greater contrast of experience than comes from birth and death, love and
+hate, riches and poverty, and they never know the difference; but
+occasionally one bursts out of her bonds and flames her beauty over
+strange worlds, in foreign embassies, in the courts of St. James or
+Petrograd, or in an opera or theater box in New York. When this eruption
+occurs many sparks fly. And many sparks from bright eyes were showered
+on the author of "The Purple Slipper," who sat calmly unaware in the
+left stage-box of the Big Show that August night beside the notorious
+Hawtry, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and Mr. Dennis Farraday. And of the
+sparks no one was more conscious than both Miss Hawtry and Mr.
+Vandeford, while big Dennis was in a blissfully ignorant state of mind
+like to that of Miss Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Though he
+had been for about forty-eight hours a producer on the rear side of the
+footlights, Mr. Farraday still had the attitude of mind possessed by one
+of an audience, and he watched the stage rather than the "front." He
+thus failed to get the impression created by his guest from Kentucky,
+and blissfully left Mr. Vandeford to deal with her sensations derived
+from the show. Mr. Vandeford had his hands full.
+
+To Miss Adair the Big Show was a series of mental and moral and artistic
+explosions. She sat with delight through the Japanese acrobats and Swiss
+quartette of yodelers, and she welcomed pretty, pert little Mazie
+Villines with enthusiasm that gradually faded into horror as that artist
+flaunted more and more lingerie and "dished the dirt" which the
+inebriate playwright, at that moment engaged in "putting pep" into Miss
+Adair's own beloved "Purple Slipper," _nee_ "The Renunciation of
+Rosalind," had supplied. The "dirt" was received by the audience at
+large with a hilarious joy that entirely justified the managers of the
+Big Show for keeping Mazie busy "dishing."
+
+However, all things come to an end, and with a last provocative,
+revealing kick Mazie was allowed to depart and give way to a pair of
+young dancers who promised to display wares more wholesome.
+
+Without knowing why he did it, Mr. Vandeford leaned forward so that his
+left ear was within reach of the whisper of Miss Adair's lips as she
+turned her head and tilted it like a droopy flower toward his.
+
+"I've only seen Sarah Bernhardt and John Drew and Maude Adams and
+Mansfield and Joe Jefferson and Arliss and the Coburns, up in
+Louisville," she faltered with her eyes questioning his and wide open
+with horror.
+
+"These next ones aren't so bad, and we'll go before any more come on
+that--that you won't like," he whispered in return. He had glanced
+through the program and seen that the climax would be an exhibition of
+jungle courtship by one of America's most notorious women and her
+partner, done to extreme negroid melody.
+
+"Thank you," she murmured as she turned to watch the willowy youth and
+maid go through some very beautiful movements of the dance that was
+entirely unobjectionable. In two minutes she had turned her face,
+beaming with pleasure, so that Mr. Vandeford could see that all was well
+with her; and ten minutes later she giggled out loud at the repartee of
+two black-faced artists.
+
+During the respite that his knowledge of the numbers on the program gave
+him, Mr. Vandeford did more of his peculiar brand of thinking, and
+reached a diplomatic conclusion. By the intermission, which came just
+before the jungle "big number" to give late comers time to gather in for
+their salacious feast, he was ready to act.
+
+"Miss Adair and I are going to get a breath of air," he announced.
+
+"But the big number is next, and she might miss it," objected Miss
+Hawtry, with solicitude for Miss Adair's pleasure. Mr. Vandeford had
+thought past just that objection delivered by Miss Hawtry, and he knew
+that in no way must he seem to be shielding the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" from the salaciousness that gave Miss Hawtry great joy. If he
+went too far in any act of comparative analysis he would bring danger
+upon "The Purple Slipper," with whose fate Miss Adair's was one.
+
+"We'll be back in plenty of time," he lied.
+
+"Be sure!" Miss Hawtry commanded, and then turned to devote herself to
+Mr. Farraday, who was laying himself out to salve what he thought must
+be her pain at the loss of his beloved friend. The Violet had soon
+caught his attitude toward her, and was encouraging his chivalry in
+every way possible by the most pensive of poses as the generous
+deserted. Such a situation is all to a woman's advantage if she knows
+how to work it, and Miss Hawtry possessed that knowledge.
+
+"Van ought to have a medical degree for operating young girls' eyes
+open, and making them see rose-colored for a while," she said with a
+good-humored smile and a soft little sigh, as she raised her Irish eyes
+in all their softness to Mr. Farraday's.
+
+To this insinuation, founded on an implied lie as far as the Hawtry was
+concerned, Mr. Farraday made no reply, but turned to greet with fitting
+applause the great dancer, on whose account one of the American artistic
+bright lights had been extinguished forever, and in ten seconds was
+inwardly thanking Vandeford for extracting Miss Adair before she had
+felt the blighting smirch of the big number. While Mr. Farraday watched
+the exhibition before him, Mr. Vandeford was amusing the child of their
+joint solicitude by letting her look at the white lights. While waiting
+at the curb before the Big Show for the large dignitary in uniform to
+summon Valentine, he had directed that worthy to have a message sent in
+to Miss Hawtry that they would join her at supper. Then upon the arrival
+of his car, he had carefully inserted Miss Adair before he had said to
+the puzzled Valentine:
+
+"Drive slowly down around the circle and down Broadway, so that you can
+come back just while the theater crowd is on."
+
+Some instinct had led Mr. Vandeford to choose exactly the panacea to
+soothe Miss Adair's shock--the lights of Broadway.
+
+"It's like fairy-land," she gasped, as they rolled down past
+Forty-seventh Street. "Oh, look at the kitten chasing the spool, all in
+electric lights!"
+
+"Wait a minute, and I'll show you an eagle flop his wings," promised Mr.
+Vandeford, and he was surprised that he seemed for the first time to
+feel the actual glory of the electric signs on his great Broadway, which
+is as much of an all-American institution as the shipyards in Brooklyn.
+
+"All the world is on fire, and everybody is going to it," Miss Adair
+exclaimed, as Valentine made his return just as the theaters were
+pouring their crowds out into the seething maelstrom of the great
+scintillating canon. She watched as the big car stood motionless before
+a stream of humanity that poured across its front wheels and then
+bounded forward as blue-coated arms stemmed the tide on the edges of
+both sidewalks for a few brief minutes in which they were allowed to
+progress to a street beyond, where they were again halted, wedged in
+with other impatient, purring cars.
+
+In a limousine next her Miss Adair saw a boy in a top hat, with white
+gloves upon his hands, smother in an eager and unabashed embrace a
+white-shouldered girl, whose arms went around his neck regardless of
+"mother" assiduously looking the other way. In a car on the other side a
+richly garbed gentleman dozed upon his cushions in triumphant inebriety.
+Also, while she and Vandeford waited, she saw a guardian spinster shoo
+a bevy of school-girls across in front of the cars, and turn in the
+middle of the street to reprove a college boy for a laughing word tossed
+to the combined bevy, while the blue arms on both sidewalks waved her
+into haste so that they might unleash their restrained monster motors.
+Everywhere protective men had women's arms fastened within their own and
+were shoving through the throng, while other men and women jostled along
+by themselves, or in companies of twos and threes, with laughing good
+nature. Fakirs were crying many wares, and in and out squirmed newsboys
+calling war extras in words that seemed to imply that New York was being
+shelled from the sea, but did not make that exact statement.
+
+"It's all the world, and I'm a part of it," Miss Adair again said, and
+Mr. Vandeford was again surprised at himself that he was not surprised
+to find tears glinting in the sea-gray eyes raised to his.
+
+"_This_ is the Big Show," he said with a little answering thrill in his
+own voice, as the enormity of the scene he had witnessed night after
+night broke on him for the first time.
+
+"They all live here and sleep here and eat here and work here
+and--and--love here," she said softly, and smiled, for again the
+limousine with the embracing lovers had paused by the side of
+Valentine's car, and the embrace still held.
+
+"No, the sleepers and eaters and workers of New York were in bed long
+ago. Everybody you see here in this push has his or her vital wires
+connected up at Squeedunck, Illinois, or Zanesville, Indiana or--"
+
+"Or in Adairville, Kentucky," Miss Adair added with a laugh.
+
+"No, you belong--anywhere. Creative people ought to have no--no home
+wires," Mr. Vandeford answered, and there was a queer sadness in his
+voice that he did not himself understand. "People with messages must
+have masses to hand them to. That's why you came, and, I suppose, must
+stay."
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, "I want to stay--if you'll let me."
+
+"I can't do otherwise," Mr. Vandeford answered her. Then he turned and
+looked her full in her serious eyes. "But if you stay you will have to
+accept broad standards, or suffer."
+
+"That Mazie woman?"
+
+"Maybe worse."
+
+She sat silent until, a few moments later, Valentine drew up again at
+the curb before the Big Show, which had been out long enough to disperse
+most of its crowd, and was now receiving supper guests for the Garden
+Grove above.
+
+"I'm going to stay--with you--and 'The Purple Slipper,'" she announced,
+as he reached into the car for her and swung her to the pavement.
+
+"Goes!" he answered, with mingled emotions, which he could not have
+analyzed.
+
+Miss Adair was as good as her word. She accepted the reveling crowd of
+the garden, looked upon the abandon of drinking women and men, with
+only a slightly hunted expression in her eyes, and with her slim white
+hands applauded Simone when that artist made most audacious slings of
+her supple body in its scant clothing. She beamed upon the dancer when,
+as Mrs. Trevor, she came, at Mr. Farraday's invitation, to have a glass
+of champagne with them, and she quailed only once, when a band of
+extremely young girls, clothed in filmy garments, took tiny
+search-lights and went merrily hunting among the tables of laughing men
+and women after the lights had been put out for the sport. Her horror at
+observing Mr. Vandeford, who sat between her and the narrow aisle take
+various moneys from his pocket to defend himself from successive
+hunters, made her pale, and the moment the lights were flashed on again
+she rose to go.
+
+"Wonder what they'll do next," muttered Mr. Farraday, as he helped her
+into her wrap. Mr. Vandeford was not looking at his author or speaking.
+Once when he had put his hand in his pocket to get out a coin for one
+of the teasing girls with her search-light he had felt the Y. W. C. A.
+latch-key there, and it had short-circuited him entirely.
+
+"I know you are tired. It takes some time to get the New York pace, but
+you'll strike it. I think I'll stay to see the next Folly with Mr.
+Farraday," he heard the Violet saying to Miss Adair, and still
+short-circuited, he went with his calm young author down to the car. The
+hour was one-thirty, and a moon had climbed the heights of the Broadway
+canon. Valentine, with some sort of psychic direction, went across
+Central Park and down wide, clean, silent, and dimly lighted Fifth
+Avenue. Both Mr. Vandeford and Miss Adair were silent, and he was not
+aware that she was crying until just before they turned into her side
+street.
+
+"They were so young, those girls, and they--they didn't want to--to do
+that," she said with little catches in her beautiful, slurring,
+Blue-grass voice.
+
+"Maybe they didn't; but they wouldn't go back now, not one," he answered
+her.
+
+She was silenced, and stood quiet beside him as he opened the door of
+the big, gloomy, protective building, with the key the woman of another
+world than his had intrusted to him.
+
+"I know," she said at last, as she held out her hand to him. And because
+it trembled ever so slightly and was cold, he put his warm lips to it
+for a second before he handed her into a great international safety. He
+remembered the key, but he didn't give it to her. Somehow he wanted it
+himself. He liked the feel of it in his pocket.
+
+"Wish I had Denny locked up in the Christian association!" he growled to
+himself as Valentine whirled him home.
+
+Just at that exact moment Mr. Dennis Farraday sat in Miss Violet
+Hawtry's Louis Quinze parlor at the Claridge, engaged in tenderly and
+awkwardly patting that star's sobbing white shoulder, as she lay on
+just such a couch as Manon Lescaut probably had had for just such
+scenes.
+
+"I don't blame him at all," sobbed Miss Hawtry, provocatively, with the
+art of long practice both on the stage and off. "My kind always loses to
+hers when the time comes."
+
+"Don't!" pleaded Mr. Farraday. It was all he could or was willing to
+plead at that moment.
+
+"But I want to make good in this play for him and her--and you--before I
+go out of his life forever. I want to repay him with--with both money
+and happiness. He made me an artist." With these words Miss Hawtry made
+an acknowledgment of the truth that she herself really believed to be
+untrue, because she saw that to praise Mr. Vandeford was the best way to
+blind Mr. Farraday while she approached him in that blindness. She knew
+that his loyalty to his David would be a barrier unless she used it as a
+ladder.
+
+"My God! How--how great women are!" was the immediate and hoped-for
+response she drew from the big Jonathan.
+
+"My art must fill my life now. Only there will be--friendship. You make
+me see that by the comfort of your kindness." Miss Hawtry laid her
+flushed cheek in the hollow of good Dennis's big warm hand. The moment
+was tense, but Hawtry had timed her line a little too far ahead, and it
+failed to get across. The prey was as embarrassed as a girl and, with
+another brotherly pat, arose to go.
+
+"You'll always let me do anything I can, won't you?" he asked as he
+looked down upon her for a second, then took a considerate departure.
+
+"Boob!" muttered Hawtry to herself, as she rose and rang for Susette.
+
+There are in this little old world many men like Dennis Farraday; only
+none of its inhabitants admit their existence.
+
+After the evening of the introduction of its author to Broadway, things
+spun fast and furiously in the business of producing "The Purple
+Slipper," and during the whirlwind of the day Miss Adair sat either in
+her own private office or in the chair beside Mr. Vandeford, and reveled
+in the excitement, and in the evenings did other revelings. She had her
+evening with Mr. Height under the spell of Barrie and Maude Adams, and
+Mr. Vandeford swore under his breath when she reported to him that they
+had gone to the concert on the roof of the Waldorf for an hour, and had
+got back to her abiding-place in time not to need the latch-key, which
+still reposed in his pocket. He knew Gerald Height, and he was puzzled
+and alarmed at this wary approach.
+
+Mrs. Farraday came to town, and the dinner-party in her staid, old
+Washington Square home, with himself and Miss Lindsey and Miss Adair as
+guests, was like a day's vacation for Mr. Vandeford. Also, he got a
+complete off-guard picture of Miss Adair as he would see her in
+Adairville, Kentucky, for she and the beautiful and stately Mrs.
+Farraday spoke the same language and had the same forms.
+
+"My dear child, you positively must come up to Westchester for this
+week-end! Matilda Van Tyne is going to come for the first blooming of
+the rhododendrons in the West Marsh, and I feel sure that she must have
+known your mother in some of her visits to Lexington. She must see you
+and hear all about the play. Now, Dennis, make all the arrangements."
+Mrs. Farraday gave her commands as a queen is accustomed to deliver
+them.
+
+"May I go?" Miss Adair asked of Mr. Vandeford, her shining gray eyes
+raised to his with deference and confidence as usual.
+
+"You may," answered Mr. Vandeford, aware that Mrs. Farraday's keen eyes
+of the world were fixed upon him in a speculative way. "The rehearsals
+will begin at eleven on Monday, and you can be back in plenty of time."
+
+"And, Miss Lindsey, will you come, too, with Miss Adair?" Mrs. Farraday
+surprised both her son and Mr. Vandeford by asking the young Westerner
+with the greatest graciousness. It was evident that the young leading
+lady had put herself across with the grand dame, and both Mr. Vandeford
+and Mr. Farraday rejoiced.
+
+"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Farraday, but I have made a professional engagement
+for Saturday evening. I am going to do a monologue stunt to fill in at
+the Colonial," Miss Lindsey answered, with pleasure at the invitation
+shining in her dark eyes.
+
+"Then Dennis can drive down on Sunday and bring you back in time for tea
+and to see the sunset on the rhododendrons." Mrs. Farraday further
+surprised her son and Mr. Vandeford by giving this command the
+imperiousness with which she was accustomed to issue her
+much-sought-after invitations.
+
+"Great!" exclaimed Mr. Farraday, with the same sort of eager kindness
+shining in his eyes as Miss Lindsey had met when he had asked her if
+beefsteak and mushrooms would be the thing for her starvation. The
+memory of that day made Miss Lindsey's eyes dim as she accepted the
+invitation, though she had had hope of a last minute chance to do a
+little Sunday "stunt" for Keith somewhere in subway New York. And Miss
+Lindsey needed the money, for a hundred dollars doesn't go far in New
+York even when carried in the pocket of a gown donned in the Y. W. C.
+A.; but she needed the rhododendrons and the tea more than she needed
+the material things that the extra fifty picked up at Keith's would have
+purchased.
+
+"Thank you, Mrs. Farraday, it would be--be 'great' to come that way,"
+Miss Lindsey answered. Both Mr. Vandeford and Mr. Farraday, as well as
+Miss Adair, were struck with the sudden beauty that illumined Miss
+Lindsey's dark face as she smiled and quoted Mr. Farraday in her
+acceptance of his mother's invitation.
+
+"Is or is not little Lindsey a beauty, Denny?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as
+they drove up-town in the Surreness after depositing the girls at their
+nunnery.
+
+"I was just wondering," answered Mr. Farraday. "I'm mighty glad she made
+such a hit with the mater."
+
+"And I'm mighty glad I'm going to lose the author of 'The Purple
+Slipper' into the wilds of Westchester and the rhododendrons, while I
+extract her play from Howard and slash it myself and help Rooney to
+mutilate it further," said Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Of course you are going to the mater's with Miss Lindsey and me for
+tea, per usual?" asked Mr. Farraday.
+
+"Can't do it. Got to work on 'The Purple Slipper' while you people
+frolic. Good-night!" With which refusal and taunt Mr. Vandeford left Mr.
+Farraday at the door of his apartment-house.
+
+Mr. Farraday looked at his watch as he started away from the curb, found
+the hour to be eleven o'clock, wabbled the machine first to the right
+and then to the left, and finally turned down-town, in which direction
+the Claridge reared its twelve stories of masonry at the corner of
+Forty-fourth and Sixth.
+
+At about that minute these were the remarks exchanged through the open
+door that connected two little cell-like rooms at the Y. W. C. A.:
+
+"Aren't you going to bed right away? I'm so sleepy that I'm brushing my
+face instead of my hair," Miss Adair called to Miss Lindsey. A desperate
+and continual desire for sleep is the pest that haunts the rural visitor
+to New York and Miss Adair's young health was easily its prey. She did
+not readily learn to run on nerves.
+
+"You go to bed; but I've got to let the hem of my tailored linen down
+two inches, so it will brush against those rhododendrons as a lady's
+should, and sew up the opening in the neck of my chiffon blouse an inch
+and a half, so I won't spill any of Mrs. Farraday's tea down it.
+Good-night!" It goes to say that when Greek meets Vandal or the East
+meets the West, dents occur.
+
+And, as Mrs. Farraday had commanded, the rhododendron party at West
+Marsh came to pass, to the vast enjoyment of all present, though Mr.
+Vandeford's absence was a deprivation to the entire company. And that
+night their friendly hearts would have ached if they had been able to
+get a vision of his strenuosity. Godfrey Vandeford, Theatrical Producer,
+was in full action, and chips from "The Purple Slipper" were flying in
+all directions.
+
+In his bedroom in the Seventy-third Street apartment, Mr. Vandeford was
+stripped for the fray--to his silk pajamas--and he lay stretched upon
+his fumed-oak bed, with both reading-lights turned on full blaze. In his
+hands was the manuscript of "The Purple Slipper," which Mazie Villines
+had literally torn from under the hands of Grant Howard to deliver to
+Mr. Vandeford on Saturday afternoon, just a day later than the time set
+for its deliverance.
+
+"My check and Grant's down, or no play," she had said upon entering Mr.
+Vandeford's apartment at about the setting of the Saturday sun. "He's
+off for a two week's d.t., and I gotter take care of him. Twelve-fifty
+is the way to write it."
+
+"Six hundred, and not a cent more without Grant's signature," answered
+Mr. Vandeford. Mr. Adolph Meyers, who was listening to the conversation
+from the hall from which he had ushered Miss Villines into Mr.
+Vandeford's library, set a spring-lock on the entrance door of the
+apartment, and entered the library unobtrusively.
+
+"Twelve-fifty, you old dollar-skinner!" averred the vaudeville star,
+with a nasty little laugh.
+
+"Don't try to pull off a hold-up, Mazie. It won't work. It's Grant's
+money," said Mr. Vandeford, with an icy calmness in his voice. And as
+she spoke he looked at Mr. Adolph Meyers, who answered the look with
+perfect comprehension.
+
+"Then you'll get the manuscript when hell freezes over or your wad
+loosens," she again laughed, and this time turned toward the door with
+the square manila portfolio under her arm.
+
+An interested spectator could not have said afterward just how it did
+happen that in half a second the manila portfolio was in the hands of
+Mr. Adolph Meyers, who also bore upon his left cheek a long and
+profusely bleeding scratch.
+
+"Here's your check, child, and keep a good grip on Grant, so he can't
+get started toward East River as he did last time," Mr. Vandeford said
+as he handed an already prepared check to the enraged girl. She was dumb
+for a second, no longer.
+
+"I was going to leave it for five hundred, you old white-skinned bluffer
+with your goose-grease, strong arm," she finally blurted out, and in a
+twinkling of her bright eyes her good-nature had returned. "Say, that is
+some play now, and I wish you'd let me play a dance girl at that
+dinner-party. I'd do it refined." There was a queer little appeal in the
+mobile young face. "I'd like to doll up like a lady."
+
+"I'll think that over, Mazie," answered Mr. Vandeford. "A song and dance
+from you might go all right."
+
+"Gimme a call, will you? I'll be on the job with my guzzler for a week
+now. I got to get him past, for he's some meal-ticket when times is
+dull." As Mazie disposed of the check in her stocking, a degree of
+affectionate anxiety for the condition of Mr. Grant Howard showed in her
+face for the fraction of a second, then disappeared as she looked at Mr.
+Adolph Meyers.
+
+"Come on and get my wad from where I've put it, if you dare, Dolph," she
+challenged, then laughed, as the imperturbable Mr. Meyers both ignored
+and showed her to the door with all courtesy.
+
+And as he lay on his bed reading over the Howard manuscript of "The
+Purple Slipper," which had just returned to him after a twenty-four hour
+overhauling and annotation for action by Mr. William Rooney, the stage
+director with the top price, Mr. Vandeford said to Mr. Adolph Meyers,
+who sat at a table beside the bed, taking down and inserting notes into
+the manuscript as they sprang from Mr. Vandeford's brain, almost before
+they got past his lips:
+
+"No wonder Mazie could see herself in this show, Pops! Grant has pepped
+it up almost to her standard. Whee-ugh!" With this whistle Mr. Vandeford
+turned page twenty of the first act and handed it over to Mr. Meyers,
+who began to devour it with eyes that took in almost the whole page at a
+glance.
+
+"It is a snap-shot of Miss Hawtry he has made, Mr. Vandeford, sir. Mr.
+Howard has never done better."
+
+"Yes, that's what he intended to do, but I'm going to clean it out a
+bit. Run an insert of the scene on page five to seven and a half out of
+Miss Adair's manuscript. It is just as good and a little--little
+more--say, Pops, cut out seven lines on page fourteen from the second
+down, and take this from me instead." Mr. Vandeford closed his eyes and
+dictated a bit of dialogue between two of the minor characters of "The
+Purple Slipper," which cleared up a point Mr. Howard and Mr. Rooney and
+the original author had all left at loose ends. As he dictated, Mr.
+Meyers wrote on the blank page opposite the lines, and made some
+cabalistic signs for insertion.
+
+Slowly they progressed through the first act, Mr. Vandeford reading from
+two manuscripts and reconciling Mr. Howard's shaky, pen annotations, Mr.
+Rooney's blue-pencil, action directions, and Miss Adair's original
+wanderings from the point with many brilliant returns in quaint
+dialogue.
+
+"That child has got more brains and uses them less than would seem
+possible," growled Mr. Vandeford, as he with a few deft lines near the
+close of the second act got the heroine off the stage and out of an
+impossible situation in which Miss Adair had involved her.
+
+"It is that her characters talk with interest, but act in awkwardness,
+Mr. Vandeford, sir. Another good play can be written by Miss Adair,"
+Mr. Meyers said as he put in two lines and a cross star sign.
+
+"God forbid!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, in all sincerity. "Here, Pops,
+get this first act down to those girls waiting in the office. Did you
+get two for all night, so one could get out the parts? You know Rooney
+will expect a reading to-morrow before he begins rehearsals."
+
+"It is three girls now waiting at the office for the night, and a
+messenger in your hall, Mr. Vandeford, sir," answered Mr. Meyers as he
+gathered up his annotated pages, put them into a new manila portfolio,
+and rose to take them to the A. D. T. boy asleep on the floor in the
+hall.
+
+"We haven't rushed in a manuscript like this since 'Dear Geraldine,'
+have we, Pops?" asked Mr. Vandeford, as he picked up the second act.
+"It's just nine o'clock, and those girls ought to get through by three
+A. M. Don't let Steinberg charge up twelve hours on you."
+
+"It will be at eight that they are still working, Mr. Vandeford, sir,
+and night type-writing means much money," Mr. Meyers answered, as he
+departed with his package.
+
+"At that we'd better get busy to feed it to 'em," Mr. Vandeford said, as
+he picked up and began to dig into the pages.
+
+For the three hours ensuing he and his henchman worked with never a
+hitch in their growls and scratches and muttered exchanges. Then, as
+they came close to the climax of the last act, Mr. Vandeford sat up from
+his pillows, which were heated almost beyond endurance with his night
+lights and his tousled head, and gave forth a roar.
+
+"I'll be hanged if I'll let that scene between Rosalind and her lover go
+with that filthy twist that Howard has given it! The words are almost
+the original, but what will Hawtry make of what he's put into it?"
+
+"It will be the worst she makes," answered Mr. Meyers. "But it is for
+pep very good, Mr. Vandeford, sir, and can be tried out."
+
+"That's right, Pops. I wonder if I am a Broadway producer or--or the
+czar of a young ladies' seminary," Mr. Vandeford growled as he lay down,
+and again went to work.
+
+"It is that Miss Adair will not understand it until Miss Hawtry is at
+work, and before that all may be dead," Mr. Meyers consoled, as he, too,
+fell upon "The Purple Slipper."
+
+At two-thirty the now soggy A. D. T. received the last manila envelope
+to deliver to the busy girls down in Mr. Vandeford's office, and that
+distinguished producer was stretched out on his bed in cool darkness
+while Mr. Meyers was in a subway nodding his way up to his humble room
+on One Hundred and Sixteenth Street.
+
+"If I live through seeing her past the reading of the blamed thing
+to-morrow, I'll be stronger than I think I am," Mr. Vandeford murmured
+as he felt the calmness of sleep fall upon him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+
+Rehearsals for "The Purple Slipper" had been called positively for
+September first, and the response became unanimous at about fifteen
+minutes to eleven at the Barrett Theater on West Forty-sixth Street;
+that is, it was unanimous except for the presence of the author and the
+angel--Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday--and Miss Violet Hawtry, the star,
+who never came to first readings until the whole cast was assembled and
+could be impressed with the fact that she came and went as she listed.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, I take it that you all know one another--and Mr.
+William Rooney," said Mr. Vandeford, as he took a seat at the left of a
+table placed in the center of the stage just beyond the footlights. Mr.
+Rooney marched to a place beside him, and rapped with a large black
+pencil for attention from the groups into which the dozen members of the
+cast had fallen after mutual introductions and greetings.
+
+"Everybody grab a seat that is good enough to glue to for five hours
+while Fido here gives out your parts," commanded Mr. Rooney, without in
+any way acknowledging Mr. Vandeford's introduction to the company. Mr.
+Rooney's voice was low and rich, and had the precision and decision of a
+machine-gun in its utterances. With hurried obedience the entire company
+looked about the stage for seats.
+
+Miss Bebe Herne, though having fifty pounds the advantage of any of the
+others in avoirdupois, was the first seated. She merely dropped down
+upon a stout pine bench, the front of which was stuccoed to represent
+antique marble, and peremptorily motioned Mr. Wallace Kent to that
+portion of the seat left after she had wedged herself as far to one side
+as possible. Mr. Kent obeyed immediately, though he had just placed a
+rickety, stuffed chair beside the gold one occupied by Miss Blanche
+Grayson, the glowerer. Miss Lindsey sat on the end of an overturned box
+hedge before a drop curtain of a twilight night, and Mr. Reginald Leigh
+sat in a wicker chair under a brilliant canvas flowering shrub of no
+known variety. The rest of the company were soon seated and receiving
+the small, blue-backed, manuscript books from the pale young man whom
+Mr. Rooney always addressed as Fido.
+
+"Everybody here but Miss Hawtry," said Mr. Rooney, and he glared at Mr.
+Vandeford as though that gentleman must be concealing the star in the
+pocket of his gray, silk-crash coat.
+
+"And Miss Hawtry is here also," came in a very beautifully modulated
+voice from left stage, as the tardy star came down center, and stood
+directly in front of the table at which sat the producer and his
+stage-manager. Mr. Vandeford rose immediately and said good-morning; Mr.
+Rooney kept his seat and looked Miss Hawtry through and through with a
+cold reproof.
+
+"Five minutes late," he said with an edge in the words that cut.
+
+"I really beg your pardon, and it shall not happen--" the star was
+beginning to say in an apologetic tone, which bent under the cold edge
+of the assault, as Mr. Vandeford had hoped it would, when Mr. Rooney cut
+it off with a curt command to pale Fido.
+
+"Give out the Hawtry part."
+
+Miss Hawtry accepted the little blue booklet handed her by Fido, and
+also Mr. Vandeford's chair, placed carefully in the center of the stage
+for her. The first brush between Mr. Rooney and Miss Hawtry had been
+pulled off and he had won, much to Mr. Vandeford's delight. For "Miss
+Cut-up" he had had to hire, pay for, and fire, three successive
+stage-managers, and she had managed all three. Mr. Rooney's boast was
+that no star had ever managed him and that he had successfully staged
+every play he had undertaken; hence a spectacular salary. Also he felt
+that his reputation was at stake in the Hawtry duel, and he was
+determined to back his own method.
+
+"Scene first, act first; Betty Carrington is discovered on stage. Go to
+it, Betty!" he commanded as Fido took a seat at the end of the table,
+opened a copy of the first act, and sat ready for annotations.
+
+"How beautiful the morning is and--" the glowering Miss Blanche Grayson
+was beginning to read from her cerulean booklet, when an interruption
+occurred.
+
+Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday entered from the stage door.
+
+Mr. Vandeford looked at Mr. Rooney, and muttered under his breath:
+"Angel and author, Bill. Easy!"
+
+"Shoot," answered Mr. Rooney, in a mild undertone, though he glared at
+the company as though in a cold rage.
+
+"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to Miss Adair, the author of
+our play. You have all of you met Mr. Farraday. Mr. Rooney, our
+stage-director, Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday." Mr. Vandeford made the
+introductions as rapidly as possible and in a voice of such coolness
+that Miss Adair looked at him in astonishment and then at the assembled
+company with great timidity. With special trepidation did she regard Mr.
+Rooney, who had bobbed his scrubby, black-mopped head at her with no
+expression at all in his little black eyes, while he refused to see Mr.
+Farraday's offered hand.
+
+"Have seats in the left stage-box," he directed them in the same tone of
+voice with which he had quelled Miss Hawtry. "Now, get going there,
+Betty Carrington, and open again."
+
+Mr. Vandeford led Miss Adair and Mr. Farraday out into the wings in a
+roundabout path to the left stage-box, and paused with them out of sight
+of Mr. Rooney. Then the humanity came back into his face and voice as he
+spoke to his friends in an undertone.
+
+"Rooney is the genius among stage-directors, but he's the original and
+genuine Tartar. How are you both?" As he asked the question he held out
+a hand to each of them, and his smile held the cordiality to which they
+were both accustomed.
+
+"We had a blow-out on Riverside Drive, and that's what makes us late.
+Now I've got to take the car around to the garage," Mr. Farraday
+apologized, as he rumpled his leonine mane, fanned himself with his hat,
+and departed.
+
+Miss Adair fairly clung to the hand of friendship offered her, with
+relief that it had not been withdrawn forever, as she had feared from
+the coolness of Mr. Vandeford's greeting before the assembled company of
+"The Purple Slipper."
+
+"I'm afraid," she murmured with both alarm and amusement sparkling in
+her gray eyes, in which Mr. Vandeford found himself searching for a
+certain expression with the eagerness with which he always looked for it
+after even a brief separation from his author. It was there and
+undimmed. "Let's go sit down where he told us to," Miss Adair
+whispered.
+
+"Good girl!" laughed Mr. Vandeford as he led the way to the left
+stage-box to which Mr. Rooney had summarily banished the author and the
+angel. He seated Miss Adair at the front edge of the box and took the
+chair close at her left. She was thus bulwarked and buttressed for any
+assault that might be hurled her way. It came in a very few minutes.
+
+Miss Bebe Herne and Miss Mildred Lindsey were in the midst of reading an
+animated dialogue on page five by the time Miss Adair's attention was
+firmly riveted on the stage and the reading in progress. Fortunately the
+little scene was of her own writing. Mr. Vandeford had put it back into
+the play instead of the paraphrase Mr. Howard had made of it, and he was
+surprised to find how deeply grateful he was to himself for having given
+her this bit as he watched the home-made color rise under the gray eyes
+as the author sat and heard her written words come to life in a little
+bit of really sparkling character comedy, which both Miss Lindsey and
+experienced Bebe were acting as well as reading in such a way as to
+bring out all the charm of the lines. The happiness of both author and
+producer lasted about two minutes, then it was broken into by Mr.
+William Rooney with a crash.
+
+"Nuff, there, nuff!" he commanded, in the midst of a quaint epigram,
+which Bebe was delivering with unction. "Audiences don't want to hear
+smart babble after their seats are all down. They want to see the star
+and get going. Cut in Miss Hawtry at the second set-to of Harriet and
+aunt. Take it this way: 'And my dear Rosalind has said, Harriet--' Enter
+Rosalind with the line you have there."
+
+"Yes, it's time for me to get on and--" Miss Hawtry was agreeing
+complacently, when she was quickly snapped off in her remark.
+
+"Line, Miss Hawtry, not gab," Mr. Rooney commanded.
+
+Instantly Miss Hawtry was reading from her lines and faithful Fido was
+making annotations upon his manuscript with strokes that spelled
+finality to the stricken author, who raised her protesting eyes to the
+producer of her play.
+
+"Steady now," Mr. Vandeford whispered. "This is the first reading, and
+he's setting. We can't side-track him now. Later you can--" but the
+author's attention was caught by the dialogue between Miss
+Hawtry and Bebe, which was the first full dose of the Howard
+fifteen-hundred-dollar, inebriate, but very brilliant and Hawtry-like,
+"pep."
+
+"Oh, I didn't write that at all!" she whispered, as she fairly shrank
+against Mr. Vandeford's strength of mind, if not against the strength of
+his arm that he had laid across the back of her chair.
+
+"Just sit still and listen to-day as though it were somebody else's
+play, and we will talk it over afterward. You know I--I warned you," he
+whispered with soothing tenderness, his lips almost against her ear in
+the dusk of the box.
+
+"I promised, and I will," she answered him, and he was at a loss to
+know if she really did flutter to him a fraction of an inch as he had
+suspected her of doing in his car on the night of her debut on Broadway.
+The charm of Kentucky girls is composed of many illusions and realities,
+which they themselves hardly understand, and use by hereditary instinct.
+
+And with her proud head poised in all stateliness, Miss Patricia Adair
+sat for five solid hours and heard "The Purple Slipper," _nee_ "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind," read from first to last page by the people
+who were to present it to the public; and Mr. Vandeford found his heart
+bleeding for the thrusts into hers. Not a protest did she make, but the
+roses faded and the gray eyes sank far back behind their black defending
+lashes, and they were glittering with suppressed tears as the wearied
+company rose to its feet after the last line.
+
+"Here to-morrow at eleven sharp," were Mr. Rooney's words of dismissal
+as he and Fido followed the company in their hurried exit toward the
+stage-door, with not so much as a glance at the box in which sat the
+stricken author.
+
+And there alone, off the dismal and dismantled stage in the cool dusk of
+the box, producer and author faced each other and the situation.
+
+"If my grandfather were not--not--dying, I'd take it right home and burn
+it all up!" were the first words the author of "The Purple Slipper" gave
+utterance to, after the last echo of the last footstep had died off the
+stage.
+
+"You couldn't, you've sold it to--to me," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+coolness in his voice that restored her mental balance, as he had
+intended it should. "Now answer me truly; is it or is it not a good
+play?"
+
+"It's not my play; it's horrid and vulgar!" the author stormed, with
+lightning burning up the tears in her gray eyes.
+
+"That whole situation is exactly as you wrote it, and about a third of
+the lines are yours, or will be yours by the time it is at the first
+night, if you play the game. I have not decided whether I think it is a
+good play or not. If I think it isn't, you may have it and burn it up. I
+don't know what Rooney thinks yet. If he doesn't want to go on, I
+won't." Mr. Vandeford had known the women of many climes, and he found
+himself using that experience on Miss Adair with great skill, though it
+hurt him to do so.
+
+"Part of it I don't even understand," Miss Adair continued to storm, and
+Mr. Vandeford was about to discover that either a Blue-grass woman or
+horse, with the bit in their respective mouths, is mighty apt to go a
+pace before curbed. "What was that scene in the last act just before the
+dinner-party? She read so fast and he had his back to me, so I suppose
+that is the reason I didn't get it." Miss Adair was alluding to the
+scene whose vulgarity Mr. Vandeford had wished to sacrifice, but which
+Mr. Meyers had pleaded for on account of its extra dash of "pep" exactly
+suited to the Hawtry style.
+
+"You won't be able to judge the Hawtry scenes at all until the opening
+night," Mr. Vandeford answered, positively quaking in his boots for fear
+that Miss Adair would force him to an elucidation of the scene, which
+was mostly of the cleverest innuendo. "She is a miserable study, and she
+and Height rehearse the big scenes alone. She just walks through with
+the company. Truly, you can hardly judge anything of what a play will be
+from just a reading or from any rehearsal. Please trust me and help me
+as you promised you would."
+
+"But the play isn't mine, at all! My play is--is killed--and dead, and
+murdered." Miss Adair persisted, still writhing from the butchery.
+
+"It is your play; but granting that it isn't, at all, think what it will
+mean to all of us if this--this nobody's play succeeds. Think what it
+will mean to the actors in the company. Miss Lindsey was hungry when she
+got her first advance on your play, and Bebe Herne hasn't had a part
+that suited her so well in years. If it goes she ought to have enough
+to make her easy; and she is getting old now--"
+
+"If you'll say and tell everybody that the play isn't mine, of course
+I'll help you, and--" Miss Adair agreed, with the tears dried by the
+anger and a degree of sanity returning at Mr. Vandeford's skilful appeal
+to her generosity, which he made when he saw that his attempt to bluff
+her about calling off the play had failed. Mr. William Rooney came into
+the box. His hat was tilted on the back of his head and in the corner of
+his mouth was a large cigar, which he was chewing and not smoking. He
+seated himself without invitation and spoke with his usual abruptness:
+
+"That play is a hummer, Vandeford, if I can just make the dolts put it
+across. It is a genuine Hawtry vehicle, but in a new vein. It's a
+corking situation and yet rings true. Did any old dame really have the
+spunk to put that dinner-party across on both lover and husband that
+you've got in your play, miss?" As Mr. Rooney asked the question of
+Miss Adair, it was the first time that he had seemed aware of the
+existence of the author of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"It's not my play, Mr. Rooney," Miss Adair said haughtily to the
+thick-skinned genius. "That--that situation is--was--is true, however."
+
+"Then it's your play all right!" declared Mr. Rooney. "The situation is
+all there is to any play. The staging is the rest. Anybody can put in
+good lines. Any simp can doll up the actors in costumes, and one actor
+can put the ideas across pretty near as good as any other, if he's
+directed all right; but when it's done, the play is the man's or woman's
+who made the first layout of the idea--and what the stage-manager does
+to it. Author and stage manager, I say. The rest is easy."
+
+"That's what I've been telling Miss Adair," Mr. Vandeford eagerly
+assented.
+
+"And authors ought to go off and die until the first night, too," Mr.
+Rooney continued to say. "When I staged 'Only Annie' for E. and K., I
+told that author if he came on my stage any more at rehearsals I would
+biff him one in the nutt, and I meant it, too. His thinks and mine ran
+into each other so bad that I was near crazed."
+
+"But an author writes a play and he or she knows--" Miss Adair was
+beginning to say to Mr. Rooney with kind patience, when he interrupted
+her as he rose to take his departure.
+
+"The author oughter write all he knows and let it go at that," he said
+as he spat on the carpet of the box with no sign of compunction. "The
+stage-manager can do the rest." And with no form of leave-taking he
+departed.
+
+"And the American drama has to be filtered through that sort of--of
+illiteracy?" Miss Adair turned and demanded of Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"The American drama is often written by people who have been too closely
+associated with books on a library shelf, so that it needs to be
+filtered through a little gross humanity to get across to--humanity in
+the gross, which pays to see it. If a scholar writes and produces a play
+scholars go to see it all right, but all the scholars in America only
+fill one theater twice, and then what is to become of scholar and wife
+and children, as well as producer, manager, and theater-owner?" Mr.
+Vandeford spoke slowly, choosing his words.
+
+"Aren't any of the stage-managers educated gentlemen?" demanded Miss
+Adair, with an interest that was fast becoming impersonal, for she had
+the wit to see that in some ways Mr. Vandeford's summary of the
+situation between author and stage-manager was sound.
+
+"Yes, a few, but not the most successful ones," answered Mr. Vandeford.
+"I tell you truly that a stage-manager has to be a genius to succeed. He
+must be a man with a vision and sheer brutality enough to put the vision
+that he gets from his conception of the play he is producing into
+twenty other mentalities and make them present the play as a harmonious
+whole to an audience. He cannot be a respecter of persons while he is
+pounding, and he must not be interfered with or his vision is obscured
+and the play loses. Do you see what I mean?"
+
+"Then an author ought to produce his own plays," Miss Adair decided very
+promptly.
+
+"Yes," answered Mr. Vandeford, with a whimsical smile down into the
+eager, pale, intensely creative face raised to his. "When an author is
+born who will study years until he is an expert electrician, other years
+in great studios until he can paint scenery that is a work of art, delve
+into old books until he knows costuming of thousands of periods in
+hundreds of lands and how to sketch it, then gives himself to the
+studying of stagecraft and the writing of half a hundred plays until he
+writes one that is really great; after which, if he has the strength and
+the nerves to produce that play, we will all go to see the great human
+drama. That is, if he has had time to live with and in the hearts of
+people so as to supply that gross sympathy with the masses who buy
+tickets which Rooney got while climbing out of the gutter. God grant he
+comes some day to America--but you are not he!"
+
+"No, I'm not," admitted Miss Adair, with her eyes smiling back into his
+whimsically, "but what you say makes me see that the--the
+producer--_you_ are the whole thing. You get it all--me and Mr. Rooney
+and Miss Hawtry together and pound us into--into a play. I make that
+acknowledgment."
+
+"If you ask the stage-manager he will say that the success of a play is
+his; the costumer will claim that success; the star knows it is his or
+hers, and the lead is sure that it is due to the support; the author
+surely has some claim to draw the huge royalties, and the location of
+his theater makes the theater-owner know that any play in that theater
+will go. Yes, the producer will always claim the whole show if it all
+goes well. If it fails the show then belongs entirely to the producer,
+who picked it in its manuscript stage, and he is no good as a producer.
+If he fails a few times hand-running, to the scrap heap with him!"
+
+"But you've never failed," Miss Adair exclaimed, with a dart of fear in
+her eyes.
+
+"My last show, 'Miss Cut-up,' was a flivver all right, though we just
+saved our faces. But I've got a show now that will put me in electric
+light for two years hand-running and--" Mr. Vandeford was in a panic as
+he realized that he was going so far in that curious thinking out loud
+to Miss Adair that he had been about to launch forth on "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" to her. It would have been like telling a friend the plans of his
+own funeral with enthusiasm, as it would be obvious to her that Hawtry
+would have to fail in and drop "The Purple Slipper" before becoming the
+triumphant "Rosie Posie Girl."
+
+"I'm willing to--to let them cut my play all up if--if it will really
+run two years and make your reputation more brilliant than it is," Miss
+Adair said, interrupting his pause of consternation at his near
+betrayal of his plans. She spoke with the worshipful uplift of her gray
+eyes to his that had betrayed him in the first place to such a confusion
+of schemes. "If it added anything to it, I would even be willing to let
+you put the Adair name to the vulgar thing they read here to-day, but it
+wouldn't help it anywhere except in Louisville and Cincinnati and
+Nashville and Atlanta and New Orleans and Richmond. People don't know us
+in New York, and any name will do here; so mine won't--won't have to be
+disgraced."
+
+"Please don't say that!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford with consternation in his
+soul as he thought of the development of the Howard "pep" Hawtry would
+make as the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" progressed. "It is the
+same thing with Miss Hawtry as it is with Mr. Rooney; she has a--a kind
+of gutter drag that gets across to the multitude, and of course your
+play had to be--be fitted to her. Hawtry, to be Hawtry, has to do and
+say things that you couldn't write at all, that you couldn't very well
+understand; but they'll get the crowd going and coming. Please give me
+your promise again to sit tight and see it through--or go home and leave
+it all to me." Mr. Vandeford was surprised to feel how hard his heart
+beat, and he was afraid that it sounded like the echo of an anvil chorus
+in the big empty theater.
+
+"I never have to give promises a second time, and this is the last time
+I am ever going to cry out," Miss Adair answered him, with a lift to her
+proud little head. "I am going to stay right here and help if I can, and
+learn. But I won't in any way distress or--or trouble you. Please don't
+get me on your mind!"
+
+"I won't get you on my mind," Mr. Vandeford answered out loud--"because
+I've got you in my heart, poor kiddie," he continued to himself, in a
+kind of desperation.
+
+Mr. Dennis Farraday burst in upon the dusk of the theater and the
+tragedy of the situation. He was vastly excited and he waved a letter
+in his hand.
+
+"Oh, you Patricia Adair, why didn't you tell me that you are old Roger
+Adair's sister?" he demanded.
+
+"Why, what do you mean about Roger? Do you know--"
+
+"Do I know him? Just listen to this, will you, and here I've _not_ been
+handing you around on a silver salver for two weeks!" He then read the
+following letter aloud to Miss Adair and Mr. Vandeford:
+
+ Adairville, Kentucky.
+
+ DEAR DENNY:
+
+ Well, here I am! I'm the Captain of my county in the Army of the
+ Furrows, and hope to turn in many thousand pounds of food stuffs
+ for you people in New York to live on. In the meantime Miss
+ Patricia Adair, my sister, is going to New York to see to the
+ putting on of a play she has written for one Mr. Godfrey Vandeford.
+ She is the greatest girl ever, and you stay right on the job seeing
+ that things go right for her while I plant these potatoes to keep
+ you from starving. She will be at the Y. W. C. A. and will sleep
+ and eat safe enough, but you look out for her and don't let her get
+ homesick. If she needs me, of course I will come, but she's a
+ plucky child and you are the best ever, so I'll go on ploughing
+ with a free mind. Let me know how it all goes. What sort of a chap
+ is that Vandeford?
+
+ Yours as always and forever,
+ ROGER.
+
+"Can you beat it?" demanded good Dennis, with a blaze of friendship in
+his eyes as he regarded Miss Patricia Adair. "It was forwarded from my
+old office number to my new, to Westchester to Nantucket, back to my
+office, and finally arrived this morning. I've just sent Roger a
+thousand-word telegram, and I hope he never knows that I was off the job
+ten days. Give that child here to me, Van, and go get a report on your
+character for me before you look at her again. Roger Adair is the best
+friend I've got on earth, next to you, and you'd better watch your
+step."
+
+"I like his steps," Miss Adair said, and again Mr. Vandeford felt
+uncertain as to that curious little flutter that was like a nestling of
+which he felt he was never to be certain and which Mr. Farraday did not
+seem to observe at all.
+
+"Didn't you know that Roger was turning you over to me, young lady? Why
+have you side-stepped me?" Mr. Farraday demanded of the young author, in
+a voice of great severity.
+
+"I thought that Roger was going to write to a Mr. Denny about me; and I
+didn't write to him that Mr. Denny hadn't come to take care of me
+because--because I was afraid he'd leave his work and come up to look
+after me himself. I didn't remember the Farraday part of your name at
+all. Roger always said 'Denny.'"
+
+"Well, I suppose I'll have to accept that excuse, as it sounds fairly
+reasonable; but I'd like to know, Van, why you have been keeping my
+child here in this musty old theater until past luncheon time when she
+must be both tired and hungry. Come out to Claremont to luncheon, both
+of you, this minute," Mr. Farraday both questioned and commanded, with
+pure delight in his voice and manner. "I'll go run the car around to the
+door, so you won't have to walk in the sun." And he departed as quickly
+as he had come.
+
+That night Mr. Vandeford lay stretched on his bed in a dark coolness,
+with his hands clasped over his eyes, when Mr. Farraday came in with his
+latch-key at twelve-thirty.
+
+"Denny?" he asked from the darkness as Mr. Farraday was tiptoeing past
+his open door, through which the southern sea-breeze was pouring, "'What
+sort of chap _is_ that Vandeford?'"
+
+"The telegram I sent read, 'the best ever.'"
+
+"Are you competent to judge me?"
+
+"I am."
+
+"Good-night!"
+
+For an hour before this masculine version of a scene a feminine real
+thing was being conducted in the two little dotted-muslin-curtained
+cells at the Y. W. C. A. Miss Adair was telling Miss Lindsey "all about
+it," and sparks and tears both were in the atmosphere. The explosion was
+brought on by Miss Lindsey remarking to Miss Adair:
+
+"You know, honey lady, that play of yours is simply ripping, but it is
+not at all like--like what I thought it would be from hearing you and
+Mr. Farraday tell it."
+
+"It's not my play at all; it's Mr. Vandeford's. He got somebody to fit
+it to Miss Hawtry," replied Miss Adair, calmly, as she began to brush
+her dark, sleek mane.
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Lindsey, in astonishment.
+
+"He just took the dinner situation in my play and got a man to make a
+new one out of it that is--is vulgar enough to appeal to the New York
+theater-goers. He let everybody put in anything they wanted to, instead
+of what I wrote. He left in a little of mine to compliment me. It's all
+right, because nobody would have gone to see my play if anybody goes to
+see--see his." Miss Adair went on calmly with the fifty-third stroke on
+her raven tresses, but her eyes were beginning to blaze.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford's a complete fool," was on the tip of Miss Lindsey's
+tongue, but she remembered her main chance, which was the favor of Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, and said instead: "I wish you would let me see a copy
+of the play as you wrote it. Have you one?"
+
+"I have, in my trunk, and I'll read it to you," answered Miss Adair, and
+in defensive pride she produced a copy of "The Purple Slipper," which
+bore the unexpurgated title of "The Renunciation of Rosalind," and
+proceeded to read it to Miss Lindsey, with both fire and tragedy in her
+voice.
+
+The operation occupied the two hours before midnight, and Miss Lindsey
+lay prostrate when it was finished.
+
+"Now, what do you think?" demanded Miss Adair.
+
+"I wish I could have had the making of it over, and for myself instead
+of Hawtry. That's no play as it stands, but there is a dandy one to be
+worked up from it that you--you--that would be like you," was the reply
+that Miss Lindsey gave as she looked out into distance, with glowing
+eyes.
+
+"Do you think that--that horrid play will be a success?" asked Miss
+Adair, with her voice sparkling.
+
+"I do," answered Miss Lindsey. "And it is curious that with all its
+changes it is still--still yours. There is a lot more of your stuff left
+than you realize, and the turns that--that Mr. Vandeford's playwright
+has given it are very clever. Lots of times he's just paraphrased your
+lines into Hawtryites. It will be interesting to see how much of you is
+left when we all come out of the wash for the first night."
+
+"I wish I were dead and buried!" she was surprised to hear Miss Adair
+confess, and there then ensued a downpour, which the hardier Western
+girl weathered for very love of the young Southern tempest in her arms.
+
+"I suppose I ought to go home, out of the way, but I'm going to stay
+and--and learn--and write another one all by myself," she finally
+sobbed, with returning courage, thus comforting herself with the resolve
+which every playwright who ever built a play has used to keep from going
+entirely mad during the rehearsals of his first play.
+
+"Just try to live until the New York opening, and then see how you feel.
+That is the way actors do to keep going during the awful grilling of the
+rehearsals and the road try-out," advised Miss Lindsey, with great
+soothing.
+
+"I will," promised Miss Adair, and turned her face on her pillow, to
+sleep, while Miss Lindsey took herself and her jar of cold-cream into
+her own cell.
+
+"I wish I had a chance at that play! What'll she do when she sees Hawtry
+and Height really in action in some of those scenes?" she murmured into
+her own pillow.
+
+The next morning Miss Adair rose, donned a most lovely home-spun linen
+gown, which was of an old ivory hue and which had been spun upon the
+looms of her great-great-great grandmother by that lady's slaves,
+crowned this toilet with the floppy hat covered with crushed roses she
+and Miss Lindsey and Mr. Farraday had purchased, and reported herself
+about an hour late at the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper," whose
+authorship she had repudiated. She seated herself in the dusk of the
+left stage-box and bared her breast for blows. They came fast and
+furious, but other breasts and heads beside her own suffered. Mr.
+William Rooney was in full action. The entire company was on the stage
+in the midst of the last ensemble bit in the first act, all talking and
+acting with blue booklets of lines in their hands.
+
+"Here you, Mr. Kent," roared Mr. Rooney as he rose from behind his
+table, at one side of which sat faithful Fido annotating his copy of the
+manuscript, "make up to that old lady like she was the last ham
+sandwich extinct and you knew you were going to be fed on alfalfa the
+rest of your life. Get her going, man, get her going! She's an old fool,
+and you know it, but you've got to have her plantation and slaves. You
+can keep a chorus-girl car in the garage if you just get her well
+fooled. Fool along, fool along!"
+
+"'I will write the message to your son, Madam Carrington, and dispatch
+it forthwith by one of my own black boys. Is my hand not ever ready for
+your service and my wit--and also my heart?'" declaimed Mr. Kent with
+satisfactory fervor, as he kissed Miss Herne's fat white hand.
+
+"Now blob, Miss Herne, blob!" directed Mr. Rooney, coming entirely from
+behind the table. "You are the fool of this show and don't let anybody
+get that away from you."
+
+"'I pray a blessing on your excellent friendship, Judge Cheneworth, and
+I will rest me content in--'" Miss Herne answered in a most excellent
+imitation of the helplessness of an old grand dame.
+
+"Break in there, Miss Lindsey, break in!" raved Mr. Rooney. "'Content
+in' is your cue. Grab it. Remember you are just the sister and only in
+the play to swell the list of actors on the program, so grab and keep
+a-grabbing if you want a place on the salary list. Now, everybody on at
+Miss Lindsey's lines and break up this drivel between the old birds."
+
+"'Mother, Rosalind bids me say to you that--'"
+
+"Crowd on everybody, crowd on, and keep things going! It will be nine
+o'clock by now, and we'll have to begin to feed the audience the hugging
+by a quarter to ten or they will go out and look elsewhere.--Say, Mr.
+Leigh, are your feet mates? You don't handle 'em even."
+
+Miss Adair rose and stole from the box to the stage-door, and looked up
+and down the street to see if Mr. Vandeford was approaching. She felt
+that she could not stand more alone. He was nowhere in sight, and she
+decided to walk around the block and see if the sun at ninety degrees
+would warm her chill. After this journey she returned to her post and
+found the box still empty. Mr. Vandeford had not arrived nor had Mr.
+Farraday, but she seated herself resolutely. She was just in time to
+witness a pitched battle between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Rooney.
+
+"If you are determined to walk through the scenes, Miss Hawtry, do it
+awake and not asleep!" stormed Mr. Rooney.
+
+"Very well," answered Miss Hawtry, but Miss Adair's heart warmed to her
+as she noted the contemptuousness in her manner directed toward her
+stage-manager.
+
+"Now see here, Height, you know that you want to get away with this
+woman before her husband gets back. You can't do it with kid gloves on.
+Spit on your hands, man, and grab her by the hair. You say: 'Rosalind, a
+strong man's love is a weapon which a woman can easily turn against
+herself with deadly outcome,' like you were begging her to go with you
+over to Ligget's for an ice-cream soda with crushed strawberries. Say it
+this way." And as she sat astounded Miss Adair heard a line that she had
+written in a sympathetic fervor of imagination and which was perhaps her
+favorite in the whole play, uttered by Mr. William Rooney with the most
+exquisite and manly feeling, while his homely, vulgar face and body were
+transformed into the same exquisiteness. A breathless happiness
+descended upon her, and she waited in it to hear the beautiful Mr.
+Gerald Height give utterance to it with the same art. Miss Hawtry
+brought her to earth.
+
+"Mr. Rooney," she said with an utter lack of appreciation or
+comprehension of the bit of high art that had flashed upon her, "it is
+in my contract with Mr. Vandeford that I rehearse my scenes alone with
+my support until the dress rehearsal."
+
+"Yes, I might have judged that from 'Miss Cut-up,'" Mr. Rooney answered
+her with a blow straight from his shoulder. "Give little sister her
+cue, Height, and let her run on to rescue you. God knows you need it!"
+
+"Mr. Rooney, I'll have you understand--" Miss Hawtry came to the center
+to continue her tirade, when Mr. Rooney struck the decisive blow.
+
+"Everybody on and begin the scene over!" he commanded right past the
+enraged star. "Take it up, Kent, with Miss Herne at 'I will write the
+message to your son,' and get her going, get her going!"
+
+At this forceful command the machinery of "The Purple Slipper" was set
+in motion, and swept Miss Hawtry off center and into her place for the
+time being.
+
+And despite herself Miss Adair was fascinated in watching the machine
+grind away, with now and then a spark from Mr. Rooney that took fire in
+the very core of her heart or brain or solar plexus--wherever "The
+Renunciation of Rosalind" had been conceived. Miss Adair did not know
+what it was that thus affected her, but she had got hold of her end of
+the psychic cord along which the author feeds the hostile stage-manager
+in such a manner that on the first night of a successful play they can
+say to each other with clasped hands and wet eyes, "Well done!"
+
+And while Miss Adair sat under the spell of Mr. Rooney, Mr. Vandeford
+sat in his big chair in his office and fought a battle for "The Purple
+Slipper" that resulted in a draw that filled him with anxiety.
+
+"I can find only one open booking in New York for October first, Mr.
+Vandeford, sir," Mr. Meyers was saying, with trouble settled in a cloud
+upon his broad brow. "I have it fairly good for the road for 'The Purple
+Slipper' until October first, and then it is a jump to Toronto or
+Minneapolis, which is into the grave."
+
+"I suppose that one opening on Broadway is Weiner's New Carnival
+Theater," Mr. Vandeford asked as though the question were useless.
+
+"You have it right," answered Mr. Meyers. "Still, Mr. Vandeford, sir, it
+is always failures that leave Broadway openings into which road shows
+can jump."
+
+"Until last year, yes, Pops, but now New York is so full of people with
+munition and war-contract money in their pockets that any show, no
+matter how rotten, that gets in a Broadway theater plays to capacity and
+stays. They'd go to 'The Old District Skule' because the doors were open
+and there is no other place to go. What are we going to do?"
+
+"I advise that you see Mr. Breit and trust to some very big failure to
+give you a place. It is that he will always give you a preference,"
+answered Mr. Meyers with little hope, but determination.
+
+"Yes, Breit will let me in if there is a squeezing chance, but Breit
+doesn't own a theater, nor do I, or you, Pops; and I don't blame the
+fellows who do own them for filling them with their own cheap companies
+and plays so as to get their buckets under the whole golden stream. Why
+give money away to any independent producer?"
+
+"Mr. Breit said that he had news that Mr. Weiner would open that New
+Carnival with a Hilliard show, name not given," Mr. Meyers added to the
+information already prepared for Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I'll see goose-grease frying out of him in Inferno before he gets it,"
+said Mr. Vandeford, coolly. "I know that is his game, but I'll put
+across this 'Purple Slipper' with Hawtry and keep my 'Rosie Posie Girl'
+until I get good and ready to let her play it. Then I'll produce it to
+the tune of a half-million dollars and not Mr. Weiner. I've never been
+squeezed, and I'm not going to have this rotten game beat me. I'll go
+over and see Breit and he'll jockey me a corner on Broadway, somehow.
+Back at three." And Mr. Vandeford walked out of his office as coolly as
+though not sizzling inwardly with anxiety.
+
+"I've got you next on the booking of about four-fifths of the theaters
+on Broadway, Van," said Mr. Breit, the booking king, as he and Mr.
+Vandeford smoked leisurely cigars in his big, cool office. "You should
+worry! E. and K. and S. and Z. are bound to pick some flivvers and in
+you go. Loaf on the road and lose money like a little man."
+
+"My contract expires with Hawtry if I don't present her on Broadway by
+September fifteenth."
+
+"That _is_ a bit of a pickle! But she won't have any show to jump into,
+and she'll compromise with you; won't she?"
+
+"She'll have to," Mr. Vandeford declared. "Coming down to Atlantic City
+to see 'The Purple Slipper' open two weeks from Monday, September
+twenty-third?"
+
+"I'll be there. Rooney says it is a go; says little genius amateur wrote
+it and Grant Howard 'pepped' it. That right?"
+
+"Yes. By!"
+
+An hour later, in the coolness and seclusion of the grill room of The
+Monks, Mr. Vandeford was imparting his predicament to his partner in
+the venture and adventures of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"And you are worrying about whether Miss Hawtry will stay by us for the
+few weeks we'll have to loaf on the road or even close while waiting for
+the New York opening?" questioned Mr. Farraday. "Say, aren't you a bit
+unjust in your judgment of her, Van?"
+
+"I know the whole tribe of actors, and you don't, Denny," answered Mr.
+Vandeford, over a tall glass of iced tea he was drinking; he didn't know
+exactly why, but the habit had grown on him lately.
+
+"Then why not try to put her under contract for those few indefinite
+weeks?" suggested Mr. Farraday, over his cup of hot coffee.
+
+"You talk as though we were dealing with sane people," answered Mr.
+Vandeford. "She's got us and she'll keep us guessing up to the last
+minute, and then put some kind of screws on. I have got to figure out
+the likely ones, to see what I can do to jam them."
+
+"Well, anyway, ask her. I think she'll stand by us. I know she will,"
+said Mr. Farraday, with both faith and conviction in his voice. "You do
+her an injustice, I say!"
+
+"I'm not going to make her any request or offer, Denny. I can't," said
+Mr. Vandeford, as he looked at the ice floating in his glass of tea.
+
+"Of course," assented Mr. Farraday, with pained sympathy in his big
+voice. "Would you like me to sound her out?"
+
+"It's half your show; go ahead. She probably knows the situation and has
+made her plans for the squeeze or double-cross, but you might try her
+out," consented Mr. Vandeford, with a shrewd glance at Mr. Farraday.
+"But I wish you wouldn't, Denny," he added, with a sudden glow of
+affection in his eyes. Then he was restrained from further remonstrance
+with Mr. Farraday by the thought of the author of "The Purple Slipper"
+and her plucky sticking by the play through the thick and thin of her
+disapproval of it. Again he offered up his big Jonathan as a sacrifice
+in hopes of improving the prospects of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+Mr. Farraday took Miss Hawtry into his confidence about the predicament
+of finding a New York theater for his play, "The Purple Slipper," that
+very evening, out on the veranda of the Beach Inn, where he had motored
+her by request for dinner after her fatiguing rehearsals, which she had
+made still more fatiguing for Mr. William Rooney.
+
+"And Van sent you to ask me if I was going to stick by?" she asked, with
+an effective quaver in her voice.
+
+"He felt that we had no right to--to tie you up for indefinite weeks,"
+said Mr. Farraday, constructing and temporizing at the same time.
+
+"Did you think as little of me as he did?"
+
+"No, by George, I knew you'd stick by us, and I said so!" Mr. Farraday
+exploded with genuine emotion.
+
+"Thank you. You know me after these few weeks better than he does after
+all these years of--" And the Violet bent her head on Mr. Farraday's
+nearest arm and began to weep softly. They were in a secluded corner of
+the veranda of the Inn, and the Violet raged at herself for having
+closed the complete seclusion of Highcliff for herself and her purposes
+by renting it to the Trevors when she had gone to town to the rehearsals
+of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+And as good Dennis Farraday had no valid reason, either within or
+without the law for not doing so, he put consoling and comforting arms
+about her, and exposed his wide, silk-garbed shoulder to the rain of her
+tears, which were not really raining. In his big heart there was the
+same comforting for this conspirator as there would have been for Mr.
+Vandeford's lawful widow, and he administered it with the same
+affectionate respect that he would have used to the relict.
+
+"You're a dear, wonderful little woman!" he was saying, when the voice
+of the Clyde Trevors was heard calling to them from around the veranda,
+and an oath rose in the Violet with such force that she almost allowed
+it to explode. Still she felt sure of her ultimate results.
+
+"You can count on me to stand by you and the play forever," she
+promised, and the hurried pressure of their lips in the soft, dark,
+sea-perfumed air was biologically inevitable.
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had woven a tangled web when he had let fall the
+purple letter on the purple manuscript and gone out recklessly to follow
+the hunch their juxtaposition implied.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+
+The first two weeks of September spent in torrid New York were a strange
+period of time to have projected itself into the calm life of Miss
+Patricia Adair of Adairville, Kentucky. Suddenly she found herself a cog
+screwed tight into a rapid-fire piece of machinery that was running at
+top speed night and day, by name, "The Purple Slipper."
+
+For long hours she sat in the coolness of that stage-box and held her
+breath while she threw her whole self into the building of the play,
+which so fascinatingly was and was not hers. And through all those
+hours, close at her side, between her and the big dim theater, sat Mr.
+Godfrey Vandeford, with his arm across the back of her chair and his
+eager face close to hers and tilted at the same angle. Her slightest
+murmur or his lowest whisper caught and was answered, and they almost
+seemed to be breathing one breath, so absorbed were they in the destiny
+of their mutual adventure. Like all women of her kind, Patricia Adair
+had known men only through a cloud, which sex traditions had firmly held
+between her and them, and Godfrey Vandeford was the first man she had
+encountered since she had slipped outside of its deadening density into
+a world where men and women endeavored together first, and left their
+sentinel undertakings to a fitting secondary time and place. In all
+sincerity she accepted him as a co-worker and was as happy working with
+him as it was possible for a woman to be. She specially liked being
+beside him in the office, and watched him settle the details of the
+running the big machine smoothly, from the hiring of the property-man to
+the firing of three successive stage-carpenters.
+
+"Real eats, Mr. Vandeford?" the former had inquired one morning.
+
+"Brown-bread turkey, nice and tasty, good crackers, but soda-pop and so
+forth for booze. Remember, they've got to face it, we hope, many weeks;
+don't turn their stomachs so they'll all gag."
+
+"I see, sir, I see. I fed 'Maple Leaves' for two years, and they all et
+every night and gimme a purse when it closed to go to London."
+
+"Goes!"
+
+"Brown-bread turkey sounds nice. I'm hungry," said Miss Adair, as the
+good-providing property-man departed.
+
+"Pop is going to bring us a piece of pie and a bottle of milk from the
+automat," answered Mr. Vandeford, as he began putting busy stabs with
+the press pencil on a pile of papers. "I ought to send him to get Denny
+to motor you for a real feed in the cool somewhere, but I want you
+here." With perfect unconcern, he went on checking the list the
+property-man had left him. He had ceased trying to decide the meaning of
+the flutter which he was not sure Miss Adair really gave when she was
+pleased. He was too busy to think about anything but the rush and roar
+of the machinery of "The Purple Slipper," so he just kept Miss Adair so
+near him for all the waking hours of the day that he could have no
+occasion to have his thoughts distracted by worrying over just what
+might be befalling her. Day after day he extracted her from the Y. W. C.
+A. at ten o'clock A. M., fed her and Miss Lindsey coffee and rolls and
+berries just any place that they happened to see (often he even ate with
+the two girls in the big empty cafeteria at the institution), lunched
+with her in the same haphazard fashion, sought a cool and quiet spot to
+give her dinner, and a ride on a country road, turned her into the big
+safety at about eleven o'clock, and went to bed to sleep the sleep of
+the interestedly absorbed.
+
+The few evenings that Miss Adair spent with Mr. Gerald Height Mr.
+Vandeford did not find repose so early or with such ease. Also, his
+awakening on those mornings after was not so joyous, and he arrived at
+the Y. W. C. A. fifteen and twenty minutes too early upon each occasion.
+
+However, his time was well spent in chatting with the brisk young
+secretary, and his anxiety was entirely relieved each time by finding
+the look intact in the gray eyes raised to his in eager greeting after
+the prolonged absence of fourteen hours, when the usual separation was
+about ten.
+
+"We went out to a place called the Beach Inn last night, and whom do you
+suppose we saw there?" she demanded on one of the mornings after, over
+her bowl of halved peaches.
+
+"Mr. and Mrs. Devil?" he asked, with a sparkle breaking through the
+frown with which he had instantly greeted her mention of that gay beach
+resort.
+
+"No; Miss Hawtry and Mr. Farraday. She wasn't nice to us at all, but Mr.
+Height says she always treats him badly when they are rehearsing
+together. I think Mr. Height is perfectly wonderful to her on the
+stage. He's so gentle and kind; but then he's that in real life, isn't
+he?"
+
+"Is he?" growled Mr. Vandeford over his corn-flakes.
+
+"Yes, and he's so just and fine in the way he speaks about everybody. He
+told me how poor Miss Hawtry used to be and how you pushed her along
+until she could buy that lovely house we passed, in which the Trevors
+are staying while she is in town. It is hard on you, too, not to be out
+there boarding with them and her instead of in this heat."
+
+"Did Height say that I--I boarded--out there?" demanded Mr. Vandeford,
+pushing his coffee-cup away from him with a sudden snap.
+
+"Yes, he said you stayed out there in the summer always, and--"
+
+"We're late," interrupted Mr. Vandeford, snapping his watch with the
+same temper he had used on his coffee-cup. "Bring that saucer of peaches
+along and eat it in the car."
+
+"I'll take an orange instead," assented Miss Adair, as with all
+good-nature and in all naturalness she deserted the last half of the
+rosy peach, took an orange from the bowl before her and stood up to go
+out to the car, which Valentine had parked in the shadow of the building
+opposite.
+
+"You kid, you!" scoffed Mr. Vandeford, with an ache in his heart, but
+thanksgiving for that same youthful unsophistication. "Height or
+somebody will get it all across to her, and then what'll I do?" he
+growled to himself as he followed her into the car.
+
+"And I saw that Mazie--Mazie woman there, too, with a terrible-looking
+man that has written ever so many plays that are successful." Mr.
+Vandeford was devoutly thankful that Mr. Grant Howard's name had not
+stuck in the consciousness of the author of "The Purple Slipper." "I--I
+was introduced to them too--because you know you said that I must--must
+accept broad standards, and I did--last night." Miss Adair looked away,
+but Mr. Vandeford could see that her little ears, set close against her
+small head, with their tips covered by a smooth band of hair, grew rosy.
+
+"What?" he gasped, uncertain as to what she meant.
+
+"Talked to that--that playwright and--and drank some champagne. I like
+cider better, but Mr. Height ordered it, and I thought--"
+
+Here the car stopped, and Valentine was at the door. Valentine never
+failed to be at the door instantly when Miss Adair was in Mr.
+Vandeford's car, because his French soul rejoiced within him for thus
+serving a grand dame.
+
+"Rooney is on the last lap of the last act, and then he'll begin to
+polish the whole for dress rehearsals," Mr. Vandeford said as he held
+the curtains of their box aside for her to enter.
+
+"And Mr. Height told me, too, that the Trevors had--"
+
+"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, becoming the stern producer, because he
+felt that he could stand no more of Mr. Height at the Beach Inn, though
+he began to listen intently to that same gentleman and Bebe Herne in the
+beginning of the great scene of the now authorless play. The anxieties
+passed from him, and in a moment he was in harness again with his author
+and running in perfect unison.
+
+"Cut it off, Height, cut it off!" commanded Mr. Rooney, and he ran his
+hands into his shock of black hair, which stood up all over his head
+like a black, sooty mop. "That scene needs something. It isn't big and
+simple enough. What did she say to him in your first layout, miss?" he
+demanded of Miss Adair, for the first time acknowledging to the company
+the presence of the author of their play at the rehearsals. "Can you
+remember?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the home-made color blazing in her
+cheeks and fires in her gray eyes as she rose in the box, and gave the
+six lines as she had written them. Her lovely, slurring, Blue-grass
+voice made the whole company smile with pleasure.
+
+"That's it! That's it! That's real people jawing and not a lot of smarty
+guff. Put that in, Fido, and write it in, Miss Herne," commanded Mr.
+Rooney, without any form of thanks to the accommodating and forgiving
+author.
+
+And truth to say the author of "The Purple Slipper" did not notice his
+omission. She was in such joy at having something of the "big scene"
+express what she had intended that she was clasping one of Mr.
+Vandeford's hands in both hers and holding on tight to keep from
+shedding tears of joy.
+
+"What did I tell you?" he asked, taking the two nervously clutched
+little hands into his warm, strong ones, unseen in the shadow of the
+box. "You keep getting things across to Bill by letting him ask you for
+what he wants. See?"
+
+"Yes, and I'm always glad when I do as you tell me," she whispered, with
+her lips almost against his ear as they both turned back to the stage
+and watched their machine begin to run on greased wheels. Mr. Vandeford
+thought of the Beach Inn, Mazie, the bottle of champagne, and Mr. Gerald
+Height, and groaned inwardly.
+
+The last week of the rehearsals of "The Purple Slipper" was a hectic
+rush, the like of which Miss Adair had never imagined. She had gone out
+again for the week-end to Mrs. Farraday's, up in Westchester, and this
+time Mr. Vandeford drove out on Sunday for tea and crape myrtle with Mr.
+Dennis Farraday, and, he was surprised to note again, Miss Mildred
+Lindsey. The day passed like an oasis in the midst of a desert storm,
+and Mr. Vandeford had the pleasure of making all arrangements for Mrs.
+Farraday, Mr. and Mrs. Van Tyne, and several other old Manhattaners, who
+had fallen under the spell of the young Kentuckian who had in an off
+moment perpetrated "The Purple Slipper," to go to Atlantic City the
+following week to be upon the spot for the opening of the play. Suites
+in the great new hotel were engaged by long-distance telephone,
+time-tables discussed, and trains settled upon by the time tea was over
+and the golden sun had let the twilight purple the rosy plumes of the
+huge myrtle hedges. In the dusk Valentine brought Mr. Vandeford's car
+from the garage and Mrs. Farraday's chauffeur drove out Mr. Dennis
+Farraday's beloved Surreness. Miss Lindsey said her farewell, and it
+again surprised Mr. Vandeford to see the gracious kiss Mrs. Farraday put
+upon the dusky red of the beautiful Western girl's cheek, while good
+Dennis stood smilingly by in the friendliest delight. Then a wistful
+sigh from the talented young author by his side claimed his instant
+attention.
+
+"What is it?" he asked, with no attempt to control the tenderness in his
+voice, though the dusk hid that in his eyes.
+
+"I want to go back to town with you," she answered him, with a little
+catch in her voice. "I feel so far away from you and--and IT, up here."
+
+"You shall," he answered, and turned toward Mrs. Farraday, who was
+coming across the grass towards them with a huge sheaf of myrtles for
+his car flower-baskets in her arms. "I wonder if you'll let me take my
+author back to town in a hurry to-night, Mater Farraday," he pleaded,
+with the affectionate smile in both his voice and eyes that he had
+learned to use in coaxing her since the days ten years ago when she had
+begun to mother him along with big Dennis. "I--I sorter--sorter need
+her."
+
+Mrs. Farraday looked at them both with a keenness under the affection in
+her glance, and then laughed merrily.
+
+"Yes, go with him, Patricia," she commanded. "I have lived through the
+week before the presentation of five plays for Van, and I think that it
+is only just that you should share that ordeal with me. He's impossible,
+and demands--everything. I gave him a perfectly new and wonderful hat
+that cost a hundred and ten dollars for the second scene of 'Dear
+Geraldine' right off my head at the dress rehearsal, and 'Miss Cut-up'
+did her dances on one of my most choice Chinese rugs. Now he's taking
+you from me. But go!"
+
+"Here's your wrap, still in the car, so hop in," commanded Mr. Vandeford
+hurriedly, as though he feared that Mrs. Farraday would withdraw her
+sympathetic permission. "Good-night, and thank you!"
+
+"Good-night, you two--two dear children," returned Mrs. Farraday, as she
+saw them off, after tenderly embracing Miss Adair and making plans for
+their future meeting. "How _lovely_ it would be!" she murmured to
+herself, with a lack of definition, as she went back to the stately
+house behind the tree, where windows were beginning to glow.
+
+For a long time the producer and his author were silent.
+
+"I hate it--and I love it," Miss Adair finally said, with her soft,
+slurring voice lowered almost to a whisper as Valentine sped them along
+the country road perfumed and dusky with the early night, though a
+silvery radiance proclaimed a chaperoning moon as imminent.
+
+"That is the proper way for an author to feel about a play one week
+before the opening," Mr. Vandeford assured her, with a laugh keyed to
+match her declaration. "It shows an entire sympathy with the poor
+producer."
+
+"Suppose, just suppose, that the producer had been anybody but you and I
+had had to stand all--" Words failed Miss Adair in imaging her plight as
+author to another producer than Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"Any other producer might have done better than I have done for you,"
+Mr. Vandeford answered her, with a sadness in his voice that he himself
+had never heard before. And as he spoke he resolved to tell her the
+whole Hawtry situation, which was haunting him day and night; to begin
+with the purple, letter-manuscript hunch, which he had lightly taken up
+to spank Miss Hawtry for trying to double-cross him with Weiner about
+"The Rosie Posie Girl," and end up with the hopeless state of his
+feelings about herself. Miss Adair herself stemmed the confession which
+might have altered the fate of that good machine "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"You've made the whole horrible experience worth while to me, and I'm
+going to be a great playwright yet, just to make you--you proud of me,"
+she assured his sadness in the purple dusk, and this time Mr. Vandeford
+was so sure of the flutter that he reached out his hand and captured a
+part of it, a white, slim little hand that nestled into his as though it
+were not in any way aware of doing so. "I'm going to dinner with Miss
+Herne to-morrow night, so Mr. Kent can show me what is the matter with
+part of his costume for the third act, and then I'm going to coax Mr.
+Corbett to fix it over for him," she continued, speaking of the business
+of learning to be the great playwright she had promised him to become.
+
+"Er--er, did you say dinner with Bebe and--and Kent?" Mr. Vandeford
+stammered as a desperate opening for letting his author know just what
+she was doing in visiting that establishment without-the-law.
+
+"Yes, I know about them; Mildred told me, but I told her that I was
+going to accept the 'broad standard' that prevailed in my profession. I
+like both of those people a lot. What business is it of mine if they
+don't want to get married?" Miss Adair's voice was coolly unconcerned
+and professional.
+
+"Help!" ejaculated Mr. Vandeford, holding the slim little hand as if
+drowning. And indeed he did have a sinking sensation, which, strange to
+say, was relieved by a quick mental vision of the capable young woman at
+the desk of the great international safety.
+
+"And I know about Mr. Height's three divorces, and I think he is to be
+pitied instead of criticized for being so unfortunate and lonely.
+Mildred says she doesn't believe he is as lonely as he tells me he is,
+but I know he is. I asked Miss Herne to ask him to dinner, too, and she
+did," Miss Adair continued, thus making little stabs into Mr.
+Vandeford's vitals.
+
+And right there Mr. Vandeford paid the entire penalty for all his tilts
+against organized morality by feeling unworthy to take a beautiful,
+fragrant, adoring, confiding girl in his arms and telling her all he had
+learned of the tragic results of such tilts. His predicament was tragic,
+though unique. If he summed up these others, he sized up himself to her,
+and by what judgment he taught her to judge them she would judge him
+when the time came. If he taught her to turn from Kent or Height she
+would turn from him, when she knew him entirely, as she surely would
+soon. And, forsooth, how would he prove to her that he was a better man
+than the copper-headed tango lizard, Height, though he knew himself to
+be? And who was this girl, anyway, to come out of a little back-woods
+town where the standards of life were so narrow that all who could lived
+out of them in degrading secrecy, and make him feel himself unworthy
+when he had lived openly in a way about which his own conscience had not
+troubled him? Why did he hesitate to tell her about his affair with the
+Violet and his anxiety about her contract, and why should his face burn
+at the thought of telling her how he had coolly let his best friend in
+for the prospect of an affair with the star for the purpose of
+protecting her and her play? And why should the sex and business
+standards of his world be entirely different from those of hers or any
+other world! On the other hand why shouldn't they all double-cross and
+prey on and defame and applaud each other to their heart's content? Why
+should they care if they were judged by--? At this part Mr. Vandeford's
+bitter reflections were suddenly invaded by a perceptible collapse of
+Miss Adair's soft and proud young body against his, and a round, warm
+cheek fell against his silk-clad sleeve, as he perceived that his
+eminent author had plunged suddenly into the depths of healthy and
+innocent slumber, while he had been moralizing about her and the rest
+of the universe. He slipped his arm about her with cautious tenderness
+and made her comfortable, while he muttered to himself:
+
+"She's a white flame and, God willing, I'm going to keep her that!"
+
+During the next week the "white flame" burned high and bright while the
+author of "The Purple Slipper" threw herself into her place in the
+grinding of the machine that was to turn out a perfected play on the
+following Tuesday night at Atlantic City. Everywhere Mr. Rooney was
+tightening bolts and polishing surfaces until they glistened while he
+snapped and tried out all bands.
+
+Miss Lindsey was pale and quiet, but she acted her part to Mr. Rooney's
+entire satisfaction, though he never said so. Mr. Leigh's feet were
+still a target, and the glowering girl, Miss Grayson, was always
+tearful, but constantly improving. When the company was not being ground
+and polished, Mr. Corbett's tailors and dressmakers were fitting
+costumes, and the property man was checking over and over each demand of
+each and every person, from the fresh rose Mr. Kent was to give to Dame
+Carrington to the mud that was to be splashed every day upon Mr. Gerald
+Height's riding-boots for his last and triumphant entry. Miss Adair had
+lost all sense of the play as a whole and only thought of it as
+distracting and distracted bits. She had, of course, never witnessed the
+scenes between Miss Hawtry and Mr. Height, as they were still rehearsed
+in private and would be until the night of the dress rehearsal on Monday
+at Atlantic City. This was well.
+
+But one thing she kept with her through the whole strain; the sense of
+being one with Mr. Godfrey Vandeford and that one working for pure joy.
+
+As for Mr. Vandeford, his eyes sank back under his brows, and Mr. Adolph
+Meyers was with him far into every night.
+
+"How does the booking stand now, Pops?" Mr. Vandeford demanded on the
+Thursday night before the opening Tuesday.
+
+"Atlantic City next week, Wilmington and New Haven the next if need be,
+and--it is to Syracuse or Toronto we must jump, Mr. Vandeford, sir,"
+answered Mr. Meyers, with beads of perspiration on his high brow.
+
+"Violet will never make that jump, Pops. Her contract closes the day we
+open in Atlantic City, and there we'll close, too, if we haven't New
+York right in sight. What'll we do?"
+
+"It is many a show closed before it opened," Mr. Meyers said, with a
+wary look at Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"This show is going to open and never close--until it's had a thorough
+Broadway try-out, Pops," said Mr. Vandeford, quietly. "Anything from Mr.
+Breit?"
+
+"Nothing to hope for a Broadway opening before November first."
+
+"I'll pass the question up Friday, and then see what I'll do," Mr.
+Vandeford said slowly as if turning his back for the moment to
+something that stared him in the face.
+
+All Friday morning he worked with "The Purple Slipper" machine with a
+bitter defiance in his eyes that made Miss Adair keep close to his side,
+though she didn't understand her reason for doing so.
+
+"Is anything the matter?" she questioned, with her gray eyes stricken
+with alarm. The fear for her play in those gray eyes sent Mr. Vandeford
+into desperate measures. He asked Miss Hawtry to go to luncheon with
+him, and she graciously accepted.
+
+"Where do we get in on Broadway after Atlantic City, Van?" she asked as
+soon as she was served with her iced melon.
+
+"We get in all right," he parried, putting his spoon into his
+cantaloupe.
+
+"That's fine. I don't mind that Atlantic City week, but I'm glad I'm
+past ever doing the road again except to the Coast. They'll eat up 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' in Chicago and San Francisco." Miss Hawtry was
+deliberately declaring her intentions to Mr. Vandeford without saying a
+word about them.
+
+"I'm going to take 'The Purple Slipper' over to London before I take it
+West." Mr. Vandeford answered her declaration with another not put in
+words, but so well did he know the workings of her shrewd, small mind
+that he saw that the game was up unless he did what he must do. During
+the rest of their luncheon they talked about the Trevors.
+
+Straight from the Astor Mr. Vandeford walked into the office of Mr.
+Weiner.
+
+"Weiner," he asked, without any sort of preamble, "will you give a
+month's try-out of my play, 'The Purple Slipper,' in your New Carnival
+Theater from October first to November first, with a proper guarantee,
+and then an option on an unlimited run there if it makes good, for a
+half-interest in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' _without_ Hawtry?" Mr. Vandeford
+knew that he was offering Mr. Weiner a good thing, for the rights of
+"The Rosie Posie Girl" had been hotly contested by all the big
+theatrical managers on Broadway the winter before, and Mr. Vandeford had
+got them from Hilliard because of his success with "Dear Geraldine" by
+the same author. They had all coveted it because it was one of those
+combinations about the success of which there could be no doubt. In
+offering Weiner a half-interest Mr. Vandeford was aware that he was
+offering him at least a hundred thousand dollars, but Mr. Vandeford's
+hunch about the purple on purple was beginning to cost him dear, though
+at least a hundred thousand dollars did not seem too much to pay to keep
+the agony of failure out of a pair of sea-gray eyes that had trusted him
+the first time they had looked into his.
+
+"With Hawtry it goes; without Hawtry, no, Mr. Vandeford," was the prompt
+answer.
+
+"With Hawtry six months from now?" questioned Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"It is that I have a weak heart, Mr. Vandeford, and I do not trade in
+futures," answered Mr. Weiner, with a spark in his black eyes.
+
+"You know my fix, Weiner; now what will you take for the New Carnival
+October first for my Hawtry show?"
+
+"I will trade that entire 'Rosie Posie Girl' manuscript, with all rights
+for that New Carnival Theater on October first, with option for the
+entire season, Mr. Vandeford," said Mr. Weiner, rolling his big cigar
+from one side of his mouth to the other.
+
+"Without Hawtry?"
+
+"I have a new Hawtry right now--in pickle," Mr. Weiner answered.
+
+"Will the New Carnival certainly be finished October first?"
+
+"Yes, to a certainty of a large guarantee."
+
+"How long will you give me to answer?" asked Mr. Vandeford.
+
+"I have made an appointment with S. & K. to talk that New Carnival
+Theater for a show at five o'clock to-day, Mr. Vandeford. I will call it
+six o'clock for you," answered Weiner, as he turned the screw with all
+show of consideration for his fellow producer.
+
+"I'll be back at four-forty-five," Mr. Vandeford answered him, and with
+no further good-by took his departure.
+
+Arriving at his office, Mr. Vandeford directed Mr. Meyers that he was to
+have half an hour entirely undisturbed, entered his own office, and
+after a second's pause went into the little office that had been
+assigned to Miss Adair, the author, and sat down in the chair she very
+seldom occupied, but which was hers by tenancy. On the desk were a pair
+of silk gloves she had left there the day before, and in a blue vase
+were several roses in a good state of preservation, which he recognized
+as having come from a bunch Miss Adair had been wearing after having had
+luncheon with Mr. Gerald Height on Monday. These objects disturbed Mr.
+Vandeford vaguely. He put them out of his mind roughly and went into
+conference with himself sternly. Literally he was weighing the
+question.
+
+On one side of the balance he laid "The Rosie Posie Girl," which, with
+Hawtry, was sure to run on Broadway for at least two seasons and make
+for him a fortune that was indefinitely large and sure. Beside this, its
+production would insure him a position among the country's really great
+producers. The show was big enough in conception to admit of a
+spectacularly artistic treatment, which he had intended to give it so
+that it would place musical comedy on a plane upon which it had never
+stood before. He knew himself well enough to know that a real triumph of
+that kind once accomplished, he would want to turn to other fields of
+endeavor, and he could see his greater self standing patiently waiting
+for his lesser to be liberated by the process of climbing out of the
+very top of the theatrical profession.
+
+Sternly he turned from himself to the filling of the other pan of the
+scales in which he was weighing the question. He looked for something to
+put in to over-balance the certainty of "The Rosie Posie Girl," and
+found nothing but a vast uncertainty with many potentialities. "The
+Purple Slipper" was a play of no known classification, and with Hawtry
+in it was still less fish, flesh, fowl, or good red herring. And there
+was added the uncertainty of that week from the twenty-third to the
+first during which he had no legal hold on the fair Violet. He felt
+reasonably sure that the announcement that "The Purple Slipper" would
+open the big new Weiner theater, with all the clash of publicity which
+he could give to it, would hold her steady on her job, but as he laid it
+down on the scales, it had to be classed as an uncertainty. The fifteen
+per cent. seat sales based on Mr. Gerald Height's appearance in silk
+tights, velvet, and lace was about the only positive he had to lay in
+the scales, and that, of course, failed to tip them to any degree. For
+about fifteen minutes he sat perfectly rigid. Then he gently laid on the
+uncertain side of the scales the positive and concrete faith in a pair
+of sea-gray eyes, jeweled with tears, and watched "The Rosie Posie
+Girl" rise high as "The Purple Slipper" sank down heavily.
+
+After this he took a rose from the green vase, stuck it in his
+buttonhole, and went forth--into his own office. He there rang his
+buzzer for Mr. Meyers, and seated himself with the air of a man who has
+had a burden lifted off his shoulders rather than with the air of one
+about to give away half a million dollars.
+
+"Pops, 'The Rosie Posie Girl' is sold, lock, stock, and barrel, to
+Weiner for a month's try-out of 'The Purple Slipper' at the New Carnival
+Theater, good guarantee for that month, and an option on a run to the
+limit for eight-thousand-a-week houses. Get Lusky over the 'phone, and
+you and he have the contracts drawn as tight as wax by four-thirty."
+
+"But, Mr. Vandeford, sir, I must have a say that--"
+
+"No, Pops, don't say anything."
+
+"With a pardon it is that I think that Miss Adair is a very fine lady,
+and so also 'The Purple Slipper.'" With this incoherent pronouncement
+of sympathy and encouragement, though devastated at the loss of "The
+Rosie Posie Girl," upon which he had already spent many creative days,
+Mr. Meyers departed into the outer office.
+
+For a long minute Mr. Vandeford glared at the unoffending rose in his
+buttonhole, then smiled, ran his hands through his hair, turned to the
+telephone, and plunged into the last lap of the race of "The Purple
+Slipper." Until four o'clock he was closeted with the most brilliant
+theatrical publicity man in New York City; then he took his contracts
+and went over to Weiner's office and sacrificed "The Rosie Posie Girl"
+to--
+
+An hour later he had told his partner, Mr. Dennis Farraday, all about
+it, and showed him the deeds of execution.
+
+"You ought not to have done it, Van. It was too big a price to pay," Mr.
+Farraday declared, with his mane rumpled on high.
+
+"No," answered Mr. Vandeford, in happy calmness. "'The Purple Slipper'
+will pay it all out--one way or another."
+
+"It must," declared Mr. Farraday, with helpless energy. "What can I do?"
+
+"Oh, be the usual ray of sunshine around the place and--and keep the
+Violet happy and busy until we land on Broadway." Mr. Vandeford said
+this with a coldness in tone and voice that he had to force hard. His
+attitude was that he had had to sacrifice himself so why not sacrifice
+Mr. Farraday also? And he hated himself for that attitude.
+
+"I understand, and you can count on me," answered Mr. Farraday, with
+such an innocently happy face that Mr. Vandeford groaned inwardly at the
+fact that he did not understand, and would surely be made to soon if his
+calculations on the intentions of Miss Hawtry were correct.
+
+"I've arranged for a chair-car to take the whole company down to
+Atlantic City Sunday morning, so the whole bunch can have a plunge and a
+good rest-up before the Monday dress rehearsal." Mr. Farraday produced
+that piece of business with great pride.
+
+"Good!" was all the commendation that he got, and he betook himself off
+for other good-natured efforts on the affairs of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+Though at times Mr. Godfrey Vandeford approached the heroic in action,
+he was very human in reflexes and, having paid a price for the happiness
+of Miss Patricia Adair, he proceeded to partake of as much of that
+happiness as he could get hold of. He captured the author of "The Purple
+Slipper" after the rehearsals on Friday, which were the last before the
+dress rehearsal in Atlantic City on Monday night, because the cast of a
+play are, after all, so many human beings, who have to be given at least
+a day for such animal functions as packing trunks, closing apartments,
+dodging creditors, and severing home ties, and he carried her off to the
+country with the intention of having her all to himself for dinner at a
+little inn up Westchester way. After they had started in that direction
+and were flying behind Valentine along sun-gilded country lanes, he
+changed his mind, changed the road slightly, and had them landed under
+the wing of Mrs. Farraday for dinner. He did this with direct intention.
+He judged himself, and decided that it would be safest to announce to
+Miss Adair that her play was to have the honor of opening the great New
+Carnival Theatre on Broadway somewhere within two hundred yards of Mrs.
+Farraday. This program he carried out with efficient directness and then
+found a strange lacking in himself.
+
+"Oh, how wonderful you are!" was Miss Adair's exclamation when he had
+imparted his news just as a young moon was silvering the poplar under
+which they sat on an old stone bench at the bottom of the sunken garden.
+"Everybody has said that you couldn't do it, but I didn't worry at all
+like the rest of them. I knew that you could."
+
+"How did you know that I could do it?" he asked, and he rejoiced with
+pride that his author did not yet know of either the existence or his
+sacrifice of "The Rosie Posie Girl."
+
+"Why, I don't know--I knew just because I--I--" For the first time Mr.
+Vandeford was absolutely certain of the flutter towards him, and at the
+same time felt certain that he was the first man who ever had been
+certain of it; and just as his breast and arms were hollowing themselves
+to nest it he--denied it and himself. He didn't want it at a purchase
+price, and he took Miss Adair home and locked her in the Y. W. C. A.
+before midnight.
+
+The journey down to Atlantic City on Sunday morning was accomplished
+with much joy and hilarity. The entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+acted like boys and girls let out of school, and mischievous children at
+that. Miss Adair enjoyed it all immensely, and at times she very timidly
+joined in the fun, which was centering itself upon putting Mr. Leigh of
+the uncertain feet, and Miss Grayson, the glowerer, into white ribbon
+bonds, which bonds were supplied from a large box of bonbons, the
+identity of the donor of which she refused to reveal, though Mr. Kent
+declared he had brought her to the station in a gold limousine with
+diamond wheels, and bore the name of Billy Astorbilt.
+
+Only Miss Hawtry held aloof, as she and her maid and various pieces of
+ultra luggage occupied the four seats at the end of the car. The seat
+next her was kept vacant, and at various times during the several hours'
+run Mr. Vandeford, Mr. Height, and Miss Adair occupied it with
+respectful tribute, but most of the time Mr. Farraday sat considerately
+beside her, and smiled upon the fun. Mr. William Rooney and Fido rode in
+the day-coach and worked the entire way on duplicate prompt copies.
+
+Also Mr. Rooney and Fido were absent that evening from the dinner-party
+given by Mr. Farraday in the great new hotel to the entire cast of "The
+Purple Slipper"--in honor of Miss Hawtry. They were working with the
+stage-carpenter, the property-man, and the electrician until a late
+hour, when they met the members of the dinner-party in pairs in
+wheel-chairs being trundled along the board-walk for sea air before
+retiring.
+
+"Hope the angel gave the bunch enough drink to keep 'em asleep until
+two-thirty to-morrow," Mr. Rooney remarked to Fido as he spat out into
+the Atlantic Ocean. "I'm going to put the gaff to 'em to-morrow night,
+and I want to start with 'em unstrung and string 'em to suit myself.
+That little author is some girl, but I wonder why Vandeford wanted to
+shunt that white devil onto a nice boob like Farraday, and him his
+friend, too," he further remarked as he watched the star and the angel
+being trundled by in one of the big wicker perambulators that infest the
+board walk.
+
+In the other direction were being trundled the author and the producer
+of "The Purple Slipper," and at that moment they were in the mood of
+fellow-workmen at the machine of "The Purple Slipper."
+
+"Rooney sent me word that the lighting is doubtful. This rotten little
+theater is hard to count on for any kind of unusual lighting, and we
+must have that diffusion for the dinner scene so as to make the candle
+effect seem real," Mr. Vandeford was saying with great animation to Miss
+Adair and with a total lack of sentiment under the same young moon that
+had baffled him Friday night out in Westchester.
+
+"The whole thing seems a confused jumble to me," admitted Miss Adair. "I
+feel as if I couldn't wait until to-morrow night to really see the play
+with the costumes and scenery and love scenes and all in the right
+place. And yet I'm so tired I feel as if I could sleep a week."
+
+"I'll shake you if you go dead on me here as you did the other night in
+the car," threatened Mr. Vandeford, with a laugh, but he adjusted his
+shoulder back of hers as if he considered the danger entirely real.
+
+"I'll certainly do it if you don't take me back where I belong, wherever
+it is," threatened Miss Adair. "I hope Mildred isn't as--as tired as I
+am and--and can help me. I'll go to bed with my clothes on if she
+doesn't," Miss Adair gasped between yawns, and fluttered to Mr.
+Vandeford with a frank intention of gaining support.
+
+"Back to the hotel, boy, and go a good pace. Double tip," commanded Mr.
+Vandeford to their propelling Italian youth, with an alarm which puzzled
+him as much as it would have puzzled many of his friends, while he
+accorded his exhausted author the amount of support needed for the
+occasion--and no more.
+
+And as Mr. Rooney had hoped, the entire cast of "The Purple Slipper"
+slept into the afternoon of the dress-rehearsal day in the complete
+collapse which the sea air induced, and they were in a good condition
+for restringing. In fact, some of them began that process for themselves
+by an afternoon plunge in the ocean.
+
+One of those plunges had an after-effect on the fate of "The Purple
+Slipper" further than keying up Mr. Gerald Height for his dress
+rehearsals. When he discovered, while detaining Miss Adair for a chat
+after his late luncheon, that the author had never beheld the sea before
+in all her inland existence, and had never been in it, he insisted on
+procuring a bathing-suit and initiating her into that sport. She
+assented to the proposition with the greatest eagerness, and in less
+than half an hour she had trusted herself to the arms of Mr. Gerald
+Height and the Atlantic Ocean. They were both rough in their handling,
+and finally she came to resent the boldness of the former as much as she
+enjoyed that of the latter. With crimson in her cheeks and lightning in
+her eyes, she first attempted to drown them both, then waded to shore,
+sat down on the sand, and said things to Mr. Gerald Height, which had
+the magic effect of making him unburden himself and his lizard-like
+career to her in its entirety.
+
+"You see, I didn't know what a girl who--who wrote your play was like
+exactly, and because I couldn't find out I have kept on trying.
+Now--now, by George, I know," he said, with a boyishness coming into his
+murky eyes. "Say, you know my mother was a Kentucky girl, and I guess
+that is one reason I have stuck by this fool--this 'Purple Slipper.'
+That and wanting to chase you down."
+
+"Well, now that you've 'chased me down' and found that I'm not--not
+there, you'll stay by me and 'The Purple Slipper,' won't you?" Miss
+Adair asked, and then like two merry children they both laughed at her
+jumble.
+
+"I will," answered Mr. Height, with the queer attachment in his heart
+that a man feels for a perfectly good woman who is jolly and friendly
+with him after she has allowed him to tell her just how wicked he is or
+thinks he is. "I thought the whole thing was a flivver, but when
+Vandeford got the opening of the New Carnival for it, I sat up and took
+notice. Just you watch the stuff between Hawtry and me put a line a mile
+long from the box office."
+
+"I'm wild to see you and Miss Hawtry in your scenes, and we must go to
+dress for early dinner. The rehearsals are called for six-thirty. Thank
+you for--for being my friend." As she rose from the sand Miss Adair held
+out her hand to Mr. Height, with the friendliness and confidence in her
+eyes that had smoothed over other rough, though not so rough, places of
+the same character in her young life.
+
+"That's some kid and there are lots like her. I've got to halt sooner or
+later," Mr. Height muttered to himself as he dressed for his early
+dinner. "I'm going to put this fool play across for her, too." There are
+a few women who distill loyalty out of declined passion; but not many.
+They make their mark on their generation.
+
+The dress rehearsals of a play are varied in finish and intensity, but
+the variety which Mr. William Rooney conducted was of the most
+brilliant, and he expected them to go as well as the opening night. He
+made small allowance for the strangeness of lights, scenery, and
+costuming, and that allowance was only for time, not in smoothness. As
+he willed, his cast generally performed. The cast of "The Purple
+Slipper" was of experienced actors, and he felt certain that they would
+meet his expectations. At six-thirty o'clock he seated himself in the
+middle seat of the sixth row center, looked around to see that the
+electrician and the costumer were at hand to catch any criticism he
+wished to make, and in a crisp hard voice that exploded like a cannon he
+called up the curtain.
+
+The author was at her post in the left stage box, and bulwarked and
+buttressed by the producer as usual, while Mr. Dennis Farraday, the
+angel, sat alone in the box opposite, with a delighted smile on his
+broad face.
+
+The curtain went up, and "The Purple Slipper" glided on the stage with
+never a creak or a careen. The lights scintillated and glared on the
+wonderful costumes and scenery, and the sparkling dialogue began to
+unwind itself into the startling plot. For the first ten minutes the
+author glowed with such joyous excitement that the producer felt the
+actual radiations; then little by little he felt her begin to cool, and
+a chill ran up and down his own spine as Hawtry and Height held the
+stage alone in the first dash of Howard-"pepped" dalliance near the last
+of the first act. He held his breath, frozen within him, until the
+curtain went down, and then he refused to turn to the author at his
+side. He was in a panic and undecided what to do until Mr. Rooney
+relieved him of the need of action.
+
+"Mr. Vandeford," he commanded from the middle of the theater, "get New
+York on the wire and have Lindenberg start a good scenery man out on the
+early morning train. That back-drop must have a toning wash: it jumps
+out at the costumes. Lindenberg is in his office until seven to get a
+message from you. It's ten to now. You gotter jump."
+
+Without a look at Miss Adair, Mr. Vandeford "jumped," and thus she was
+left alone to watch the second act grind along to its climax, with
+Hawtry acting the high-bred virago with an extremity of brilliant
+sensuality, with Mr. Height supporting her in broad lines that could be
+well-read between. Once the author looked at Mr. Dennis Farraday in the
+box opposite, and then looked away from his blazing enjoyment of the
+startling climax, which the lovers acted in such beauty of body, and
+such beauty of execution that, without knowing why, she was thrilled
+from her head to her feet.
+
+"Broad standards," she whispered to encourage herself, as her eyes shone
+and her cheeks glowed as she lowered her head and re-read the proof of
+the program to be used on Tuesday night, which Mr. Vandeford had given
+her and upon which she observed the name Patricia Adair in type only
+slightly smaller than that of Violet Hawtry. In a few minutes the
+curtain was again called up; Mr. Vandeford was still absent, and again
+her attention was riveted to the stage.
+
+Almost the entire first half of the last act was hers, and the tension
+in her glowing young body had relaxed and she gave Mr. Vandeford a
+semblance of a smile as he seated himself beside her just before Hawtry
+came on the scene to lay with Height the foundation of the great dinner
+scene. This hurdle was held firmly in front of the young author.
+
+Miss Hawtry entered in a blaze of eighteenth century glory, only with
+her authentic costume cunningly contrived to reveal more of her
+wonderful white body than any woman of that period would have done, and
+beautiful in his velvet and ruffles, Gerald Height followed her to
+thereupon enact a scene which was a slow and marvellous distilling of
+the very wine of emotion intended to go through human blood like a
+stinging poison. It had reached its climax, and even the emptiness of
+the theater was breathless when, like a whip, Mr. Rooney's cold voice
+brought Miss Hawtry out of Mr. Height's arms.
+
+"Cut it, cut it!" he commanded. "You couldn't get that across even on
+Broadway. The censor will close the show. Play it fifty per cent. and
+then all the subway will quit you."
+
+"I'll play it as I choose, you black monkey, you, with your Irish name."
+Maggie Murphy sprang out from the body of the beautiful Hawtry to answer
+back gutter with gutter.
+
+"Wait a minute, Miss Hawtry." Mr. Vandeford rose in his box from beside
+the author of the violent scene that was becoming a basis of a scene of
+violence. "Rooney, it can be played with--"
+
+"You sit down and help your bread-and-butter baby hide her face for
+writing such rot instead of trying to tell me how to act." Maggie was
+now commanding the Violet, and she was wild with nervous rage. "She's
+welcome to you; five years of your living off me and my work is enough,
+and I don't intend to--"
+
+"Back to your lines on which Miss Hawtry enters, Miss Lindsey,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney, in his machine-gun manner. "Get ready for your
+cue, Height."
+
+Completely ignoring Miss Hawtry, who was standing down center, Mildred
+Lindsey calmly entered and began the beautiful little bit of persiflage
+with Miss Herne, who had gone on before her with an agility unlike her
+usual slow gait. There was nothing for Miss Hawtry to do but retire to
+the wings, which she did, and with the nervous bomb exploded, she
+continued the rehearsals to a finish with the greatest brilliancy,
+playing the interrupted scene at fifty per cent. of its fire, as
+directed by Mr. Rooney.
+
+But the author of "The Purple Slipper" was not there to see the ending
+in calm after the storm, for she had fled at the Violet's attack upon
+Mr. Vandeford, and while he stood his ground to see the matter settled
+in the face of the insult, she had vanished.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+
+At twelve-thirty Mr. Rooney was still in the theater with his
+property-man and his electrician, but just before one he left through
+the stage-door.
+
+"All over, old man, you can put out your lights, lock up, and beat it,"
+he said to the old gentleman who had sat year after year and kept the
+gates of his Inferno.
+
+"Star still in her dressing-room, gent with her," the old keeper
+answered, as he leered at Mr. Rooney, and accepted the big black cigar
+offered him.
+
+"Big, red-headed chap with the show?" Mr. Rooney questioned carelessly.
+
+"Same," admitted the old keeper.
+
+"Cuss her," Mr. Rooney remarked, without either special interest or
+malice, and took his leisurely way to his hotel.
+
+The star dressing-room at the little Atlantic City theater, in which
+half the plays produced on Broadway first try out their charm, is larger
+than the dressing-rooms in most of the modern theaters, and dainty
+Susette always made any dressing-room which happened to serve Miss
+Hawtry look more like a boudoir than seemed possible, by taking thought
+to have silky rose curtains to adjust over costume-racks and windows,
+with covers to match to be slipped over the couple of rough chairs
+usually supplied dressing-rooms. A fillet covering large enough for any
+dressing-table, the silver and ivory of the make-up outfit, and lights
+shaded with the fillet over rose were about all the equipment that the
+French girl carried in the top of one of Miss Hawtry's costume trunks,
+but she managed an effect with them that many a Fifth Avenue decorator
+might envy. Following instructions, she had put all in exquisite order
+and left the theater before Miss Hawtry was off the stage. The Violet
+had been obliged to send her summons to Mr. Dennis Farraday by the old
+door-keeper; hence his knowledge of her manoeuvers.
+
+Miss Hawtry was still encased in the magnificence of the costume for the
+final scene of "The Purple Slipper," and in the rose light of the little
+dressing-room she glowed like a fire-hearted opal as Mr. Dennis Farraday
+entered with the great hesitation of a first appearance in a stage
+dressing-room. His face was pale and serious. Miss Hawtry had seen that
+her Maggie Murphy insult to Mr. Vandeford had apparently cut more deeply
+into the big Jonathan than into Mr. Vandeford himself, and she had
+realized that she must set her scene well and act quickly and with
+daring if she accomplished her purposes.
+
+"Forgive me--and comfort me. I have hurt myself more than I have hurt
+him," she cried out as she turned to him and expelled two sparkling
+tears from her great blue eyes, and held out bare, white, glorious arms
+to him, with the sob of a repentant child caught in her throat.
+
+Now, Mr. Dennis Farraday, great gentleman and the son of a line of
+gentlemen, was in the same state that many another good man and true
+would be in after witnessing "The Purple Slipper" as played by Miss
+Hawtry in her compelling animality, and his angry eyes suddenly blazed
+with another light than anger, as with a hard breath he admitted the
+big, beautiful, treacherous cat into his arms and allowed her bare arms
+to coil around his neck and her body to cling to his.
+
+"How could you--how can you?" he asked, and the question on his lips
+made them cold, and kept them from hers--long enough.
+
+Mr. Vandeford stood in the dressing-room door without so much as rapping
+for permission to enter, and his face was dead white while his eyes
+blazed in a great terror. He seemed not to notice the purport of the
+scene he had interrupted, but his voice cut into the situation like cold
+steel.
+
+"Denny, we can't find Miss Adair anywhere, and here's a note she left
+Miss Lindsey. What do you make of it?" He handed Mr. Farraday a sheet of
+hotel note-paper, which he took with a trembling hand while Miss Hawtry
+shrank back against her lace-covered dressing-table and gathered her
+forces to annihilate Mr. Vandeford. This was the note, which Mr.
+Farraday read with one glance, but failed to read to Miss Hawtry,
+because its few lines struck all consciousness of her existence entirely
+from his mind.
+
+ _Dear Mildred_:
+
+ Dishonor has never smirched the name of Adair until I put it on
+ that theater program. I have branded the annals of my family, and I
+ never want to look into a human face again. Good-by. You've been
+ good to me.
+
+ PATRICIA.
+
+"My God! What do you suppose she means?" Mr. Farraday gasped, as he
+looked in abject terror at Mr. Vandeford, who returned his glance in
+kind.
+
+"And I promised Roger to take care of her," Mr. Farraday gasped, and
+without so much as a glance at Miss Hawtry, both men departed with all
+the rapidity possible. There must be some reason that all bonds
+without-the-law are so brittle, and those of friendship and honor and
+love so strong within the code.
+
+Miss Hawtry did some rapid thinking, as unaided, she slipped from the
+costume of the star of "The Purple Slipper" into her normal raiment and
+character. Then she called a wheel-chair and had herself trundled to the
+hotel. While she was propelled, many other wheels were turning and
+turning fast.
+
+"What does Miss Lindsey think is the matter, and where she is?" Mr.
+Farraday questioned Mr. Vandeford as they strode along together down the
+board-walk towards the hotel.
+
+"She says it's that rotten scene between Hawtry and Height that's killed
+her, and she is right. I felt her die right there by my side," Mr.
+Vandeford answered.
+
+"You two don't think she would really put an end to--to herself about a
+play, do you?" demanded Mr. Farraday, and he fairly staggered as he
+asked the question. Then not waiting for an answer, he began to run
+toward the entrance of the hotel half a block ahead. Just as he was
+turning into the doors with Mr. Vandeford closely following, an Italian
+wheel-chair boy darted out of the dusk of his stand, and plucked the
+latter by the sleeve; then together they went racing back the way Mr.
+Vandeford had come.
+
+Half way down the long arbor, dusky under its vines, Mr. Farraday met
+Miss Lindsey, and in the subdued light they paused and looked into each
+other's faces; then entirely to the surprise of them both, they went
+into each other's arms and clung together like two frightened children.
+Miss Lindsey was smothering sobs which made her tender breast storm
+against Mr. Farraday's, in whose own a heart was racing with terror.
+
+"I don't blame her; it was loathsome, and it was about her own
+grandmother," Miss Lindsey managed to say in a fierce, beautiful voice.
+
+"You don't think, do you, that--" Mr. Farraday was gasping as he held
+Miss Lindsey still tighter against the racing heart, which was beginning
+to slow down and pound against hers with a slightly different speed.
+However, the terror in his voice made Miss Lindsey press him to her with
+sustaining closeness.
+
+"She's Southern and different, and I don't know what to think," she was
+saying, and in the absorption of their terror they failed to notice that
+Miss Hawtry passed them not six feet away in her wicker chair.
+
+And while they clung to each other and enjoyed their fright and anxiety
+together, Miss Hawtry went into the telephone-booth and got a
+long-distance connection with Mr. Weiner in New York in an incredibly
+short time. Their conversation was almost as incredibly short in view of
+its portentousness, but while it lasted, Mr. Gerald Height and Mr.
+William Rooney had been added to the group of anxiety under the arbor,
+and they were all in close conclave, though not in embrace, when Miss
+Hawtry returned to them, walking with cool determination in every step.
+
+"Mr. Farraday," Miss Hawtry said, with a serenity in her rich voice and
+manner, "I will have to tell you as Mr. Vandeford's partner in 'The
+Purple Slipper' that I am entirely dissatisfied with the way the play
+proves up at dress rehearsal and refuse to open in it. As I am under no
+contract to him since Saturday night, I am motoring back to New York
+to-night to begin rehearsals to-morrow in 'The Rosie Posie Girl' for Mr.
+Weiner. Good-night!" With a stately curtsy to the assembled principals
+of "The Purple Slipper," very dramatic in execution, the Violet bowed
+herself away from them forever. Ten minutes after she was on her way
+back to Manhattan in a big touring-car provided by the hotel management
+per a telephone order from Mr. Weiner of New York.
+
+"And Van sold 'The Rosie Posie Girl,' for her opening on Broadway in the
+New Carnival Theater with 'The Purple Slipper,'" Mr. Farraday gasped as
+he sat down suddenly on one of the benches in the dim little arbor.
+
+"Lord, what a lose, both shows and maybe--maybe Miss Adair, too," Mr.
+Gerald Height exclaimed, and there were both sympathy and anxiety in his
+voice.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Mr. Rooney, as he rolled his fat cigar from the
+left of his mouth to the right and spat into the vines. "I've made a
+pretty good play out of 'The Purple Slipper.' It will go all right
+without her. Actors aren't so much. It's the situation and the
+stage-managing."
+
+"That's what you think," jeered Mr. Gerald Height, gloomily. "I always
+had a hunch that I would never play wig and ruffles."
+
+"Can that hunch," commanded Mr. Rooney. "I'm going to put Miss Lindsey
+in the part and play it refined for a winner. Been understudying Miss
+Hawtry, haven't you, Miss Lindsey?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Lindsey, and a sudden radiance shone from her dark,
+intellectual face that lit up the whole arbor and lighted a flame in the
+creative hearts of both Mr. Gerald Height and Mr. William Rooney. And
+what it lighted in the hearts of both of those gentlemen was nothing to
+the blaze it fanned in the heart of Mr. Dennis Farraday, where it had
+been smouldering along from a spark touched off the day of the beefsteak
+and mushrooms. "If you'll help me play it as I have seen it all along,
+Mr. Rooney, I can go on to-morrow night."
+
+"Good," agreed Mr. Rooney. "I'll shove Miss Grayson up into your part,
+and cut out hers until we get a girl. We'll get the little author busy
+right now, blotting out the Hawtry smell and putting you in, as I say,
+refined and--"
+
+"Oh, but where _is_ she?" moaned Mr. Farraday, coming back to his agony
+of uneasiness, which had been drugged by hearing and seeing "The Purple
+Slipper" and Mr. Vandeford's fortunes rescued and reconstructed right
+before his ears and eyes.
+
+"There ain't but two places for a refined lady to run in Atlantic
+City,--the railroad station and the ocean,--and I bet Mr. Vandeford is
+lugging her from the railroad station right now," Mr. Rooney said with
+easy conviction. "Course she'd dodge back to the Christian ladies home
+the first mud-puddle she stepped into, but we'll set her on her feet and
+rub the splashes off her white stockings and--"
+
+Mr. Rooney was interrupted in his kindly flow of reassurance by the
+appearance of a wheel-chair propelled by the shrewd Italian youth, who
+had that evening made his individual fortune, in which sat Mr. Vandeford
+and the author of "The Purple Slipper." Without command, he stopped
+beside the group of friends, and Mr. Vandeford alighted, but Miss Adair
+shrank back into the shadow of the perambulator.
+
+"Oh, darling, listen," cried Miss Lindsey, as she reached into that
+retreat and drew Miss Adair into her arms. "Miss Hawtry has thrown up
+the part and gone back to New York, and I am going to act it for you
+just as you and I have talked about it all this time. Mr. Rooney is
+going to help us, and we--we are going to make good for you--and Mr.
+Vandeford--to-morrow night. We are!"
+
+"Just watch us, Miss Adair. I'll do my best, and I'll--I'll be like we
+talked the other day," Mr. Height said as he came to the other side of
+the wicker retreat of the hunted author. Something in his voice made Mr.
+Dennis Farraday put his arm around the lizard's shoulders, a thing he
+would not have thought of doing a week ago.
+
+"We are all going to stand by, little girl, and it'll be some play that
+we produce at the New Carnival October first," Mr. Farraday put in by
+way of his contribution to the wounded young author.
+
+However, it was the crack of Mr. Rooney's whip that brought her to her
+feet again.
+
+"Miss Adair, you and Lindsey come back with me to the theater now," he
+commanded the shrinking and tragic author. "Somebody get Fido and tell
+him to wake up everybody and have 'em all at the theater to rehearse in
+a hour; that'll be three o'clock. Mr. Vandeford, you'd better get in a
+press story over long distance before Hawtry beats you to it. You may
+catch a morning paper or two. Now, everybody get out and work like fun
+and we'll show Broadway a sure-fire hit October first."
+
+"Can you do it, Bill?" Mr. Vandeford asked in a quiet voice. It was the
+first time he had spoken since he had coolly and silently picked Miss
+Adair up off a bench in the little railroad station and put her into the
+sympathetic young Dago's one-man-power conveyance.
+
+"I can take ten yards of calico, a pot of red wagon paint, and a pretty
+gal and make a show to fill any theater on Broadway for six months--if
+I'm let alone," answered Mr. Rooney, with the assurance that moves
+mountains. "That Lindsey is one good actor with common horse-sense, and
+the little author filly has Blue-grass speed. Watch us!"
+
+"Goes!" answered Mr. Vandeford, and steel sparks struck out in his keen
+eyes as he turned and went rapidly to one of the long-distance telephone
+booths with which all Atlantic City keeps up its intimate relations with
+New York. It was also astonishing how quickly he got his connection with
+a great New York morning paper and was put on the desk wire of one of
+the junior editors, who was a good friend in need.
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Hello, Curt. Godfrey Vandeford speaking."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"With my show in Atlantic City. Can you get a note across in the morning
+issue?"
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Good! Spread it that Hawtry is put out of 'The Purple Slipper' cast to
+give place to a new Pacific Coast star, Mildred Lindsey. Hawtry handed
+it to Denny and me rotten, but put that under pretty deep, with Lindsey
+blazed in top lines. I'll have my publicity man send you a special
+Lindsey Sunday story. Hot stuff."
+
+ . . . . . .
+
+"Thanks, old man! By!"
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Another fifteen minutes was spent in long distance communication with
+Mr. Meyers, and it was ten minutes after three o'clock in the morning
+when Mr. Vandeford slipped into his chair beside his author in the
+little Atlantic City Theater, which Mr. Rooney had induced the old night
+watchman door-keeper to open up at the hour when all teeming Atlantic
+City is in the depths of repose. Mr. Rooney had with him the entire cast
+of "The Purple Slipper," to whom he had just finished explaining the
+cause of their extraction from their well-earned repose.
+
+"Most of the Sister Harriet scenes are with me," Miss Bebe Herne was
+saying, with efficient energy fairly radiating from her big body,
+clothed in a decorous tailor skirt, but with a boudoir jacket serving
+for blouse. Also two kid curlers showed at the nape of her neck. "I can
+feed Miss Grayson into Miss Lindsey's part enough to get by
+to-morrow--to-night I mean. And Wallace can do the same when he's on
+with her. That ugly white cat Hawtry to double on Godfrey Vandeford
+after he pulled her out of Weehawken!"
+
+"Get on, get on, everybody, and use your brains until they lather,"
+commanded Mr. Rooney as he took his stand beside the left stage box.
+"Now, Miss, you gimme lines out of your head or your first draft when I
+call for 'em, and I'll take 'em or leave 'em as suits me. Then you
+smooth the ones I hand you into good talk, and we'll have a show here
+by sun-up that you'll be proud to invite your Christian lady friends to
+attend. And we'll keep all the 'pep' too, Vandeford, that you paid
+Howard to write into it, only we'll take the Hawtry dirt out of it. On,
+Betty Carrington, and the curtain's up."
+
+Then from three o'clock in the morning until almost noon the machinery
+of "The Purple Slipper" was overhauled and adjusted to the new cog. Mr.
+Rooney lashed and rubbed and polished and oiled with never a let-up on
+anybody, and beside him sat the author, with her head up and the bit in
+her mouth. For every line that rang untrue in the reconstruction she had
+a true one or she took a crude bit from Mr. Rooney and polished it into
+place. Fido sat crouched in a front seat and transcribed every word into
+his prompt copy so as to be a veritable first aid.
+
+And Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, experienced show man that he was, felt as if
+he was witnessing a miracle as he beheld Miss Adair's original "Purple
+Slipper," with its haphazard amateur charm, again put forth bud and
+bloom on the branches of Grant Howard's tight-knit, well-constructed,
+and well-rounded drama. The highly-colored flowers of Hawtry personality
+Mr. Rooney pruned away and constructed others for Lindsey, and Miss
+Adair lent them color and perfume in passing them to the new star, who
+was working steadily, slowly, surely, and with great power.
+
+"Don't tell him that his eyes 'burn into yours until your soul is
+seared.' That's old. We got to get a kind of smile here where Hawtry
+looked like she was going to do the ham sandwich act to Height and his
+silk tights." Mr. Rooney stopped the abhorred scene, being acted along
+about six o'clock in the morning, to demand that it be played in the
+proper key, up to which he had succeeded in wringing lines from Miss
+Adair for the first act and most of the second. "What do hearts do to
+each other that's hot and decent and funny all at once?" Mr. Rooney
+fired this biological question to the author of "The Purple Slipper,"
+and looked at her with a demand for an immediate answer in his little,
+black, driving eyes.
+
+"She can say 'There's chaff in my heart; guard the fire in yours,'" Miss
+Adair supplied offhand.
+
+"That hands it to him, and a good double meaning, too," Mr. Rooney
+approved. "Go ahead, Height, but don't get this lady mixed with the
+other kind. Remember, she lives at the ladies Christian home." The laugh
+that greeted this sally was an uproar that added to the dash and quick
+fire of the big scene, which Miss Adair and Mr. Rooney had so quickly
+expurgated and reconstructed between them.
+
+At seven o'clock the play had been entirely run through, and Fido had
+the result in his prompt copy and was beginning to rapidly write it into
+their lines for each of the cast.
+
+"One half hour to get breakfast and Miss Herne's back hair down," Mr.
+Rooney said, with the callousness of a slave-driver. "Then if you run
+through again fairly well we'll be done by noon, and everybody can hit
+the hay for six hours."
+
+Mr. Vandeford watched his author's proud little head droop on the box
+rail in front of her, and with his face very white he motioned Mr.
+Farraday to come to her. After his degrading the night before at the
+hands of Miss Hawtry, he felt that he would be unable to endure the pain
+of the repulsion he felt sure he would find in her eyes if she ever
+looked at him again.
+
+But his summons of Mr. Farraday failed in peremptoriness, for that big,
+bonny gentleman nodded to him, then stood in the wing to catch Miss
+Lindsey in his arms and bear her away to immediate nourishment. In the
+excitement of the last few hours a domesticity had grown up between Mr.
+Farraday and Miss Lindsey that it would have taken months to build in a
+world less hectic than that in which they were then living.
+
+Their courtship had been brief, and consisted in one question, asked by
+Mr. Farraday while Miss Lindsey stood in the wings waiting for a
+moderated, impassioned cue from Mr. Height, and answered by her as she
+responded to him and the call of her stage lover at the same moment.
+
+"When will you marry me?"
+
+"When 'The Purple Slipper' goes on Broadway."
+
+In the circumstances it was natural that Mr. Dennis Farraday should take
+Miss Lindsey for a reminiscent beefsteak and mushrooms during the only
+free half hour she would have for either him or food in the ensuing day,
+and to fail to heed Mr. Vandeford's summon.
+
+Thus deserted, Mr. Vandeford was about to steal forth and appeal to some
+member of the cast of "The Purple Slipper" to come to his rescue in
+providing refreshment to restore the author during the precious half
+hour respite when "the chaff in his heart" caught fire and began to burn
+away forever. Miss Adair raised her eyes to his, with the faith still
+in their wounded depths, and smiled a wan little smile.
+
+"Please get me a glass of milk with an egg in it, and some of that
+brown-bread turkey," she demanded. "I'm dead, but I'll come alive again
+if I go to sleep a minute. Shake me when you get back with it, but get
+something for yourself while you are gone."
+
+"The kiddie, the precious, spunky kiddie," Mr. Vandeford said in his
+heart over and over as he and the young Italian rushed to the hotel and
+back with a waiter and a tray of the desired refreshment, to which had
+been added an iced melon and a couple of bedewed roses.
+
+The shaking had to be literally administered while young Dago Italiana
+held the tray, and then had to be repeated several times by Mr.
+Vandeford, as he almost as literally fed his exhausted author, up until
+the very minute in which Mr. Rooney rang up the curtain and again called
+her into action.
+
+Five hours was more than enough for the smooth running of the three-hour
+"Purple Slipper" show, and at eleven o'clock Mr. Rooney dismissed his
+jaded cast with this strict command delivered in his rich, deep voice,
+which held a note of genuine solemnity.
+
+"All of you go to sleep every minute between now and night, and then
+come back here and make good--for all of us."
+
+With the assistance of young Dago Italiana, Mr. Vandeford delivered Miss
+Adair to a hotel maid, who accepted five dollars from him as a fee for
+putting her to bed, and then he plunged into still greater
+strenuosities.
+
+He sat for three hours with his skilled young publicity man and
+advance-agent, and laid out a discreet, dignified, but very interesting,
+publicity campaign for the new star of "The Purple Slipper." Due
+importance was to be given in all the notices that "The Purple Slipper"
+was to open the New Carnival Theater and in his heart the young
+advertiser put away the intention of making the fact that Mr. Vandeford
+had sold Hawtry and "The Rosie Posie Girl" for "The Purple Slipper," his
+most brilliant reserve story to set all of Broadway, at least, agog for
+the opening of the expensive new play.
+
+"It puts 'The Purple Slipper' at the big end of the horn, and it's not
+your fault that there is only the little end of the horn left for 'The
+Rosie Posie Girl' for the time being," he explained to Mr. Vandeford.
+"You see, it is a kind of double-cross that acts both ways. If it goes,
+people will think it was worth your paying a big price for, and if it
+fails, they'll think the 'Rosie Posie Girl' couldn't have been much if
+you traded a chance on such a poor show for it."
+
+"Goes!" said Mr. Vandeford, but he was aware that the smart manoeuver,
+which would once have delighted his soul, made him intensely weary.
+
+In fact, so fatigued did he feel when he left this young press schemer,
+that he dropped into his bed for an hour, and had a masseur come and
+pound him into condition to go to the train with good Dennis Farraday to
+meet Mrs. Farraday, Mrs. and Mr. and Miss Van Tyne, who arrived at five
+o'clock from big Manhattan. Mr. Farraday had had a like operation
+performed upon himself, and was in such a radiant condition that Mr.
+Vandeford felt badly eclipsed beside him.
+
+"What does it all mean about Miss Hawtry and Miss Lindsey and the show,
+Van?" Mrs. Farraday questioned, with greater anxiety in her face than
+she had had at any other opening night of her favorite's successful
+shows. "Are we going to have a terrible time?"
+
+"I'm going to put you in a wheel-chair and let Denny take you up to the
+north end of the board-walk and tell you all about it while I locate and
+make comfortable the rest of the folks," Mr. Vandeford answered with a
+deep relief at her presence in his eyes.
+
+"Where are my girls?" she questioned.
+
+"Both dead--asleep," he answered, as if deeply happy to be able to say
+it of his star and his author.
+
+His statement was only partly true, for while Miss Adair slept the sleep
+of the emotionally unanxious, Mildred Lindsey sat crouched by her
+window, with her eyes looking far out over the Atlantic Ocean, waiting
+for the result of Mr. Dennis Farraday's talk with his mother at the
+north end of the board-walk.
+
+There are occasionally mothers who bear sons who can tell them all about
+things, and Mrs. Farraday really enjoyed the whole story that big,
+bonnie Dennis poured out to her at the sunset hour by the brink of old
+ocean, Dago Italiana squatting on his heels out of hearing and basking
+in inactivity, from the moment of the beefsteak episode in his and Miss
+Lindsey's acquaintance up to the moment in which Miss Hawtry had
+established herself in his arms on the occasion of his debut in a stage
+dressing-room. And even at that stage of the narration she rather
+astonished Mr. Farraday, who was shamefaced enough at the telling, by
+saying with soft pity in her motherly voice:
+
+"The poor woman. Of course she couldn't help loving you, and now she's
+lost both Van and you. Now go on and tell me about Mildred."
+
+"She--she's the best ever," was Mr. Farraday's explicit and enlightening
+answer.
+
+"Of course she is. I saw that the time you brought her to dinner with
+me, and also that you were in love with her. She's really a rather
+wonderful girl, and--and--Dennis, I'll tell you something that I never
+expected to tell you--I've always wanted to be an actress. I simply
+adore that Lindsey girl, and I know she'll make a great actress. Why on
+earth should she want to marry you?" Which goes to show that
+aristocratic Mrs. Farraday was not the ordinary mother.
+
+"Let's go ask her," roared big Dennis, as he embraced her in a way that
+made the sympathetic and now wealthy young Dago Italiana flash his white
+teeth in joy.
+
+And nobody can say how much the fate of "The Purple Slipper" was
+affected by the fact that Rosalind went upon the stage for her first
+appearance as a star, straight from the tender arms of stately,
+white-haired Mrs. Farraday.
+
+The opening night of "The Purple Slipper," by Patricia Adair, produced
+by Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, and staged by Mr. William Rooney, was a
+triumph undisputed and acknowledged by a brilliant cosmopolitan audience
+such as Atlantic City furnishes any play presented to it before
+September the twenty-fifth, for up until that week on the board-walk of
+that resort East meets West and the South joins them. The eminent author
+sat in the left stage box with Mrs. Justus Farraday of New York and Mr.
+and Mrs. Derick Van Tyne, and at her side was a chair into which at
+times dropped Mr. Dennis Farraday, but which had been reserved for the
+producer. Things had gone brilliantly from the start, from the moment
+the curtain went up with polished, interesting Miss Herne manoeuvering
+the frightened and substituted Betty Carrington through the opening
+dialogue. A veritable gasp of joy had greeted the beautiful Mr. Gerald
+Height as he entered in his colonial wig, ruffles, and velvet, and his
+big eyes under their bowed brows sought out the author and smiled at her
+with a genuine pledge of loyalty which no lizard could ever have given
+forth as he glided richly into his archaic banter with Miss Herne.
+
+"He'll get 'em going, get 'em going the whole dame bunch from Harlem to
+the Battery," muttered Mr. Rooney to Fido, who stood in the wings, with
+his eyes glued to the much annotated prompt copy. "Now watch out for
+Lindsey; she's doing forty sides of new stuff in twenty hours. Me for
+the stock company to train 'em young. Let her rip, Rosalind!" And with a
+nod Mr. Rooney sent his "bet" out upon the stage to make the audience
+forget that they had paid their money to see Violet Hawtry and make them
+glad to have paid it to see her.
+
+As Mildred Lindsey stepped out on the stage in all the glory of an
+almost unbelievable beauty, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford, who sat with his
+shoulder back of that of the author of his play, seemed to behold a
+vision with his trained theatrical foresight. This slender, powerful
+young woman, with the rose dusk of the prairie sun on her cheeks, the
+depths of the great canons in her dark eyes, and the breadth of the far
+horizons across her broad brow seemed to him to typify the rise of order
+in her profession, over which so long had ruled chaos. And as her rich
+voice led the intrigued audience from one brilliant scene to another, in
+which she reincarnated before their eyes a very flower of the old
+Southern chivalry with dash, finish, and lucidity, he felt as if he had
+done his best and now had a right to be allowed to depart in peace from
+the world of tinsel and illusion. As Lindsey and Height held the
+audience spell-bound while the tempted wife dueled with her might
+against the tender and desperate lover, placing, with a combined art
+that was as great as any he had ever witnessed, the "big scene" of "The
+Purple Slipper" among the "big scenes" of the modern stage instead of in
+the class of lascivious masterpieces where the night before Hawtry had
+laid it, Mr. Vandeford looked down into the gray eyes of the girl who
+had had it all in her blood for generations, and who had so brilliantly
+given it birth, and felt a prophecy rise within him that soon the
+American drama would begin to draw on the wealth of tradition which had
+been piling up in a vast storage for it, and that when it did,
+dramatists and actors, men and women, would rise to interpret it to a
+wondering world.
+
+"Is it really mine?" she asked him, in proud surprise and wonder.
+
+"Yes, it's yours--filtered through Howard and Rooney and all the rest,
+but--it--is--you," he answered. "You lost it a dozen times, but--his
+own comes back to a man or a woman."
+
+His eyes blazed so that the long lashes lowered over the stars in hers,
+and she saw the curtain fall on the last scene in a mist of tears. The
+onrush of applause that raised the curtain half a dozen times was
+confused in her by the pounding of Mr. Vandeford's heart back of her
+shoulder and the echo in her own.
+
+"Fifty weeks and then some, Van," she heard the young press-agent
+declare, in business-like congratulation.
+
+"Sure-fire hit," Mr. Rooney pronounced, as he spat on the stage floor
+behind the curtain. "Rehearsals at ten to-morrow to tighten up, Fido. Me
+for the hay." Miss Adair had gone back of the footlights to cast her
+gratitude into his arms, and he had failed to notice her appearance in
+any way at all, but had spat and gone on his autocratic way. Perhaps in
+the New World of the Theater, stage-managers may be able to afford to be
+human, perhaps not.
+
+Mr. Vandeford's supper-party to the cast of "The Purple Slipper" and the
+friends from New York who had come down to see its try-out, lasted until
+two o'clock in the morning, but when it was over neither the moon, which
+was as full that night as Mr. Kent had become by coffee and cigars, nor
+Dago Italiana had retired, and both stayed on their jobs out at the
+south end of the board walk, where boards melt off into sand and ocean
+and sky.
+
+Mr. Godfrey Vandeford had got about two thirds of the way along the
+painful stretch of autobiography, with which he was inflicting agony on
+himself by recounting to Miss Adair, when she raised her gray eyes to
+his with the faith and reverence still at their average level, even
+slightly higher, and stopped his punishment.
+
+"I understand exactly why people like you and Miss Hawtry don't marry
+each other," she astonished him by saying in all calmness. "Mr. Height
+explained it all to me the other day. Actors and actresses have
+peculiar temperaments that fly together when they ought not to, and fly
+apart when they ought to stay together. I know just how that is because
+I feel--"
+
+"Hush!" commanded Mr. Vandeford, as he laid his hands on the shoulders
+of his author, who was standing close to him, with the moonlight full on
+her clear-cut, high-bred face, and he gave her a savage shake. "The
+whole crazy bunch will have to have law and order shot into 'em or the
+theatrical profession will follow horse-racing to the devil. If they
+don't give up unfaith and the double-cross Broadway will open some night
+and swallow them all. And here you come out of a real world and say to
+me--"
+
+"What did you think I was going to say?" demanded Miss Adair, pressing
+so close to him that it was impossible for him to administer another
+shake.
+
+"I don't know and I don't want to hear it. I'm afraid to have you say
+anything to me."
+
+"It was this: I was going to ask you what I would have done if you had
+been married to Miss Hawtry when I got to you and we had begun to
+produce our play together. It's different when men and women work
+together! Standards have to be broader. How do I know that I would have
+run away to--"
+
+"Don't, don't!" pleaded Mr. Vandeford as she crept still nearer to him
+and forcibly tried to open his arms for herself. "I'm punished. I've
+taught you myself! When I leave you how'll I ever know if I'm going to
+find you there when I come back?"
+
+"Well, how'd you expect to find me--me--there if you don't take me
+there?" Miss Adair pleaded as she tugged at his folded arms, with such
+energy that her polished thumb-nail slightly marked his iron wrists.
+
+"I'm not worthy, child, I'm not worthy," Mr. Vandeford answered with
+grim words, and his arms still taut against his breast.
+
+"You have to judge yourself with the same--same 'broad standards' I
+judge you by, like you told me to use. Please open your arms!"
+
+"I take those broad standards away from you."
+
+"Jesus Christ gave them to me, only I didn't understand in Adairville."
+
+"God, I wish you had never left Adairville."
+
+"I know what there is for us to do."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I'll go back and marry you by Adairville narrow standards for better
+and for worse, and then we'll have to keep 'em for ourselves when we
+come back, because we did it knowing what we know, but let other people
+be broad wherever they are without judging them. I'm going to drop
+asleep right here on the sand if you don't open your arms."
+
+"Oh, good Lord, what did You make women out of?" Mr. Vandeford said in
+all reverence and bewilderment, as he took the "white flame" to his
+breast and drew it past her lips until it burned away all the chaff in
+his soul and established itself upon its altar.
+
+After Mr. Vandeford had again delivered his author to the hopeful maid,
+waiting up for another greenback, he met Mr. Rooney at the desk of the
+hotel still on his way to "the hay."
+
+"Closed up with Weiner to begin rehearsing 'The Rosie Posie Girl' on
+Tuesday, after we open 'The Purple Slipper' in the New Carnival. Said
+Hawtry wouldn't sign up until I had signed too. She's got a hunch for
+me. If you fail, their show goes in in your place; if you win, Weiner
+shunts John Drew or Arliss out to one of his other theaters on the road,
+and puts in 'The Rosie Posie Girl.' Good business, eh?" And Mr. Rooney
+rolled his cigar from east to west and questioned Mr. Vandeford, with a
+new fire for a new undertaking beginning to burn in his little black
+eyes.
+
+"Fine," answered Mr. Vandeford, with all cordiality, and not even
+thinking of his lost thousands. "It will go big, Rooney, and I'll be
+glad--none gladder."
+
+"Sure," answered Mr. Rooney. "It's all in the business. Everybody on
+Broadway is out to stab everybody else--but mostly it's paper daggers if
+you take it right."
+
+"A tissue-paper world sewed together with tinsel thread," Mr. Vandeford
+murmured, as he fell asleep with his cheek pillowed on the wrist that
+Miss Adair had marked in the struggle for her own.
+
+A week from that night "The Purple Slipper" had its first night on
+Broadway, and opened the New Carnival Theater in a blaze of glory,
+publicity, and electric lights. The talented young press-agent had done
+his work well, and the audience assembled was the most brilliant
+possible, made up of the usual blase critics, eager theatrical people
+who were not on the boards themselves, and interested and distinguished
+men and women from many outer worlds. In the box facing the one occupied
+by Mrs. Justus Farraday, in a blaze of both the Farraday and Justus
+jewels and prestige, and the beautiful young author of the play, with
+her son Mr. Dennis Farraday, and the producer, Mr. Godfrey Vandeford,
+sat Miss Violet Hawtry with Mr. Weiner, the owner of the beautiful new
+theater which was opening its doors for the first time on Broadway. When
+the curtain fell upon the new Lindsey star after its eighth elevation,
+the Violet rushed behind the scenes and took that astonished young woman
+in her arms, with the real tears of emotion, with which one genuine
+artist greets another, in her great blue eyes.
+
+"You were wonderful, my dear, perfectly wonderful," she exclaimed. "You
+see, Van, I never could have done it like that. Good luck to both of
+you, and the little author--oh, there you are, my dear! All of you shake
+hands with Mr. Weiner. He's so pleased that he is speechless, but he's
+going to give you a big banquet on your fiftieth performance. He's
+promised me."
+
+Which demonstration was perfectly in keeping with Miss Hawtry and
+Maggie Murphy's character, and emanated from that quality within her
+that a month later put "The Rosie Posie Girl" up as high and as
+brilliant in electric lights as "The Purple Slipper," and kept it there
+an entire year. Which goes to prove that the "tissue paper world" is yet
+of heroic fibre.
+
+When Mr. Vandeford went to insert his author into the international
+safety that evening at about the hour of midnight, he saw that his
+friend the secretary was shooing a chattering party of Christian ladies,
+who, as his guests, had sat in a group, fifth row center, in the New
+Carnival Theater that evening, off up-stairs. With his talisman key,
+which had never left his pocket since it had been presented to him, in
+his hand, he paused to speak in a friendly shadow to his successful and
+now truly eminent playwright.
+
+"You'll have to go South Thursday, and I'll follow Sunday to get that
+little marriage business over in Adairville before we leave for the
+Klondike. My commission has arrived from Washington, and the Secretary
+of the Navy wants quick reports of the copper before the big freeze. Do
+you suppose I can keep you warm in Eskimo furs and--and my heart?"
+
+"Yes," answered Miss Adair, with the flutter which Mr. Vandeford now
+answered, without any conscious volition. "There ought to be a great
+play out of the Klondike. Jack London could have done it, but--but--"
+the faithful gray eyes were raised to his with the flame in their
+depths.
+
+With a groan, but an answering flame, Mr. Vandeford replied:
+
+"It's a fatal drag--. Yes. Some day we'll come back and try to put
+across another one!"
+
+
+ THE END
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+Transcriber's note
+
+
+The following changes have been made to the text:
+
+Page 12: "marischino" changed to "maraschino".
+
+Page 14: "plenty ruffles" changed to "plenty of ruffles".
+
+Page 14: "nee" changed to "nee".
+
+Page 29: "heatrical" changed to "theatrical".
+
+Page 37: "mocking bird" changed to "mockingbird".
+
+Page 40: "Highcliffe" changed to "Highcliff".
+
+Page 42: "Vanderford" changed to "Vandeford".
+
+Page 57: "Madamoiselle" changed to "Mademoiselle".
+
+Page 58: "Madamoiselle" changed to "Mademoiselle".
+
+Page 61: "atinkle" changed to "atwinkle".
+
+Page 67: "Highcliffe" changed to "Highcliff".
+
+Page 90: "coemployer's" changed to "co-employer's".
+
+Page 114: "Fou get Gerald" changed to "You get Gerald".
+
+Pages 118-119: "ear of his coproducer" changed to "ear of his
+co-producer".
+
+Page 125: "Lindenberger" changed to "Lindenberg".
+
+Page 145: "I'd going to" changed to "I'm going to".
+
+Page 193: "She's geting along" changed to "She's getting along".
+
+Page 220: "the he Christian" changed to "the Christian".
+
+Page 236: "touseled" changed to "tousled"
+
+Page 237: "manila envelop" changed to "manila envelope".
+
+Page 245: "Vanderford" changed to "Vandeford".
+
+Page 307: "tryout" changed to "try-out".
+
+Page 373: "Esquimo" changed to "Eskimo".
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Blue-grass and Broadway, by Maria Thompson Daviess
+
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