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Updated: June 23, 2025
On the first night the audience applauded the screaming more than anything in the play. Madame de Rhona assured me that I had made a sensation, kissed me and said I was a genius! How sweet and pleasant her flattering words sounded in my young and inexperienced ears I need hardly say.
My living-waggon, which still went about wherever the Lovells went, had been carefully prepared for me by Rhona, and I at once went into it, not with the idea of getting much sleep, but in order to be alone with my thoughts. What was I to think of my experiences of that evening?
Rhona looked at the eager face, the luminous gray eyes. "Would you like to see it?" "Yes, I would." "But it's dangerous." "How so?" "Police and thugs, bums hanging around." "And you girls aren't afraid?" Rhona smiled. "We don't show it, anyway. You see, we're bound to win." Myra's eyes flashed. "Well, if you're not afraid, I guess I haven't any right to be. May I come?"
I had just enough strength and sense to drag myself off the stage and seize a book, with which, after a few minutes, I reappeared and ignominiously read my part. Whether Madame de Rhona boxed my ears or not, I can't remember, but I think it is very likely she did, for she was very quick-tempered.
But after an hour was ended, she remembered. "Message? Sure! Fifty cents!" Rhona clutched the edge of the door. "Telephone I want to telephone!" "Telephone!" shrieked the matron. "Do yer think we keep a telephone for the likes of ye?" "But I haven't fifty cents besides, a message doesn't cost fifty cents " "Are yer telling me?" the matron snorted. "Fifty cents! Come now, hurry," she wheedled.
In London my name was put on an agent's books in the usual way, and presently he sent me to Madame Albina de Rhona, who had not long taken over the management of the Royal Soho Theater and changed its name to the Royalty. The improvement did not stop at the new play.
He can't read the letter hisself, of course, but the Scollard can, and so can Rhona Boswell. One on 'em will read it to him, and I know he'll come at wonst. I shouldn't like to run such a risk without my dear blessed old daddy knowin' on it. It ended in Mivart's writing to Sinfi's father, and Panuel Lovell turned up the next evening in a great state of alarm as to what he was wanted for.
'Same place, twix Bettws and Capel Curig. She had been to the bungalow, she told me, with a message from Sinfi. This message was that she particularly wished to meet me at Mrs. Davies's cottage 'not at the bungalow' on the following night. 'She'll go there to-morrow mornin', said Rhona, 'and make things tidy for you; but she won't expect you till night, same time as she met you there fust.
Rhona looked at her with swift understanding. "Yes, please do come!" Myra rose. She took a last look about the darkening room; saw once more the sleeping men, the toiling Giotto, the groups of girls. Something tragic hung in the air. She seemed to breathe bigger, gain in stature, expand. She was going to meet the test of these newer women.
She was so entirely herself that I found it difficult to believe in the startling spectacle of the previous evening, although her expression was careworn, and she certainly looked a little paler than she used to look when she and I and Rhona Boswell were such great friends; her splendid beauty and bearing were as striking as ever, I thought.
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