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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I'd never have thought you were dishonest. In fact, I don't believe it yet. You don't look like one of those ladies who wish to take everything and give nothing." His tone and manner were most attractive. Besides, she could not forget all he had done for her and all he could do for her. Said she: "Mr. Ransdell, if I've done anything to cause you to misunderstand, it was unconscious.
I had to go to rehearsal myself and directly order him to restore Miss Esmond and lay you off." Mildred was not unprepared. She received this tranquilly. "Mr. Ransdell is a very clever man," said she with perfect good humor. "I've no hope of convincing you, but I must tell my side."
He paused, looked keenly at her, a good-humored smile in those eyes of his so fascinating to women because of their frank wavering of an inconstancy it would indeed be a triumph to seize and hold. Said he: "And your bad throat? Did Ransdell give you a germ?" She colored. He had gone straight at the weak point. "If you'd been able to sing," he went on, "nobody could have done you up."
Said Agnes timidly: "Why not go to see Mr. Ransdell." "He wouldn't make it up," said Mildred. "And I I couldn't. I tried to marry Stanley Baird for money and I couldn't. It would be the same way now only more so." "But you've got to do something." "Yes, and I will." Mildred had risen abruptly, was standing at the window.
At the end of the rehearsal the others, theretofore flattering and encouraging, turned away to talk among themselves and avoided her. Ransdell, about to leave, said: "Don't look so down-hearted, Miss Gower. You'll be all right to-morrow. An off day's nothing." He said it loudly enough for the others to hear. Mildred's face grew red with white streaks across it, like the prints of a lash.
She found herself surrounded by simple, pleasant people, undoubtedly erratic for the most part in all their habits, but without viciousness. And they were hard workers, all. Ransdell for Crossley tolerated no nonsense. His people could live as they pleased, away from the theater, but there they must be prompt and fit. The discipline was as severe as that of a monastery.
Every man's a Ransdell at heart where pretty women are concerned." She did not leave the building. She went to the elevator and asked the boy where she could find Signor Moldini. His office was the big room on the third floor where voice candidates were usually tried out, three days in the week. At the moment he was engaged.
She sang, but her voice cracked on the high notes. It was a painful exhibition. Her fellow principals, who had been rather glad of her set-back the day before, were full of pity and sympathy. They did not express it; they were too kind for that. But their looks, their drawing away from her Mildred could have borne sneers and jeers better. And Ransdell was SO forbearing, SO gentle.
"I should hope not," replied Mrs. Belloc. "You're going to the top. I'd hate to see you contented at the bottom. Aren't you learning a good deal that'll be useful later on?" "That's why I'm reconciled to it," said she. "The stage director, Mr. Ransdell, is teaching me everything even how to sing. He knows his business." Ransdell not only knew, but also took endless pains with her.
But the carrying out of their spirit as well as their letter was due to Ransdell. Before the end of that first week she knew that there was the personal element behind his admiration for her voice and her talent for acting, behind his concentrating most of his attention upon her part.
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