Life — July 6, 1905 — page 37: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“He's a very fine man, isn’t he?” asked Flor: “Splendid. Good salary, too. Flora thoughtfully piled mayon- naise on her salad. “Couldn't we have him to dinner some night?” “Sure thing,” assented Mr. Grimes, calling for another chop. When he had taken a replete and placid Flora home, he called a cab and dashed in search of his comedian. Car- ter’s position in the cast was not too secure, and Carter was ambitious. Flora was not one of those who came to rehearsal only when needed and flew away at dismissal. She was. at the stage door at ten-thirty in the morning, and she stayed till no matter what was going on. If anyone was ordered to come back in the even- ing, Flora came, too. A good deal of the time she sat in the stage box and ate candy, On the following day, which was Saturday, the comedian paused in the doorway of the box and begged per- mission to enter. “Though if you were really kind you would send me away,” he added, slipping into a corner whence he could not be seen from the stage, Flora efully bit open a choco- late, inspected its filling and rejected it. “Why?” she asked. “[ shall never tell you,” said Mr. Carter, sighing. All that di when not at work, he sat in Flora’s large shadow, and at dinner time they went away together. There was no rehearsal Sunday, but Flora went forth at the usual hour in a white tulle hat and did not return till dark, A final rehearsal had been ordered for Monday morning, and Flora was waiting in the pa when Mr. Grimes arrived. She drew him mys- teriously into a dressing-room. “I have something very serious to talk to you about,” she announced, her solemn, light eyes fixed on him un- ssage winkingly. Mr. Grimes drew a deep breath; his expression was almost genial, “Well, what it is?” You know I told you about that funny Mr, Carter? Well, he’s terri- bly in love with me.” “You don’t say so!” LEE: “Yes. He tries to hide it, but I can tell, And he says he'll never, never let himself care for a girl who has been on the stage. He's got principles against it for ladies. He says he'd die of his feeling rather than betray it to an actress.” Dear, dear! That’s serious, Flo! es. And yet—suppose I should decide not to go on to-night? Wouldn't it be sort of breaking my contract? I don't want to hurt the piece. Mr. Grimes patted her solid “Don't you worry about the piece all right.” She looked relieved. “You're real kind, Well, I'M let you know later. It’s a serious thing to de- arm. tits “What is a career compared to the love of a good m Mr, Grimes. He went bu ing’s work. said antly about his morn- The sight of Flora rumi- nating in a box made him almost jo- cose. He let the comedian free a soon as he could, with a subdued grin of understanding Twenty minutes later Flora beck- oned him into the wings. He went smiling. “Mr. Grimes, mind,” she began “Good girl!” And he I've made up my held out his hand, Flora took it firmly. “Yes, I have decided not to desert the stage. Love is all very well, but I guess I'd rather be famous. Mr. Carter feels dreadfully, 1 can see it. But my mind is made up.” Grimes clutched his chin and glared helpless- ly. Over her heavy shoulder Carter, the comedian, gave him a long, sad look of discouragement as he slipped past, Miss Welch looked after 1 much as she might have cyed a paté she might not have. “He's all broken up, but I can’t help it,” she sighed. “Anyway, the play’s going fine; 1 guess the Sentinel will give us a good notice. I asked my brother-in-law, Mr. Anderson—” Grimes swung sharply on his heel and marched away, rage in his clenched jaws. Nevertheless, an hour later he sought her out again, and his brow was clear, “What are you going to do this afternoon?” he ed. “T'll rehearse, if you like.” (Continued on second page following.) “No. Better get fresh air and steady your nerves for to-night. I shall be busy, but I'll send my automobile to take you for a good spin in the coun- You needn't get back till dinner How will that suit you?” rst rate,” said Flora Then Mr. mes took the under- study aside and rehearsed her privately and thoroughly. Very good, indeed,” he told her, “And you may get a chance. You never can tell!” He was sardonically amiable the rest of the day, That night everyone was on hand before the curtain was rung up, except Miss Flora Welch. Mr. Grimes in- quired about her several times during the progress of the first act, but abruptly refused to have a messenger sent after her, he play seemed to be taking well with the house and he 1 brilliant good humor. When the second act began and there was still no Flora, the under- study went tremulously to dress. She had just emerged in her flower girl suit, when a tramping as of a fright- ened dray horse was heard in the pas- nd at a mad charge came Flora, breathless, hatless, her coat flying off behind her, belt and collar following as she ran. Mr. Grimes clutched her by the arm and brought her to a wild- eyed halt “You are very late,” he said sternly. “You have lost your chance to go on.” “There's minutes yet,” she gasped, “Auto broke down—way off in woods—most killed myself to get here—milk wagon—freight train——” She wrenched her arm free. “I'll be there!” she called as she thrashed off to her dressing-room. The understudy in the wings had wilted pitifully. Mr. Grimes whispered an encouraging word to her and thrust his hands defiantly into his pockets. One of them encountered a letter, and he drew it out, giving it absent glance that turned to a glare when he saw the heading, Daily Sentinel, on the envelope. It was the note, still un- opened, that Anderson had sent him weeks before, and once more the bug- bear policy loomed large and forbidding before him. Flora’s collar rolled in the passage and her skirt lay before the door of her dressing-room, where she tim seven comicbooks.com