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Updated: April 30, 2025
Miss Rooth, moreover, wanted a new part; she was above all impatient to show her big range. She had grand ideas; she thought herself very good-natured to repeat the same stuff for three months. The young man lighted another cigarette and described to his listener some of Miss Rooth's ideas.
"He tried for the diplomatic service, but he didn't precisely dazzle his examiners," Mr. Lovick further mentioned. "Edmund's very nasty about him. There are lots of gentlemen on the stage he's not the first." "It's such a comfort to hear that," said Mrs. Rooth. "I'm much obliged to you. Has he got a theatre?" Miriam asked.
I particularly like your being free to go if you are free." She began almost to rave with pleasure. "Dear Peter, how good you are! They'll have it at any hour. Florence will be so glad." "And has Florence seen Miss Rooth?" "Miss Rooth?" the girl repeated, redder than before. He felt on the spot that she had heard of the expenditure of his time and attention on that young lady.
Rooth contributed "she's much too paradoxical for my plain mind. But there's one way to encourage Mr. Sherringham there's one way to help him; and perhaps it won't be a worse way for a gentleman of your good nature that it will help me at the same time. Can't I look to you, dear Mr. Dormer, to see that he does come to the theatre to-night that he doesn't feel himself obliged to stay away?"
Perhaps indeed it was unjust to qualify as roundabout the manner in which Miss Rooth conveyed that it was open to him not only to pay for her lessons, but to meet the expense of her nightly attendance with her mother at instructive exhibitions of theatrical art.
Perhaps you'll say there are less honourable faults. We'll come to see you with pleasure. Oh I've been at the embassy when I was her age. Therefore why shouldn't she go to-day? That was in Lord Davenant's time." "A few people are coming to tea with me to-morrow. Perhaps you'll come then at five o'clock." "It will remind me of the dear old times," said Mrs. Rooth.
Only the daughter, according to her kind, desires to be known by some nom de guerre before she has even been able to enlist." "And what does she call herself?" Bridget Dormer asked. "Maud Vavasour, or Edith Temple, or Gladys Vane some rubbish of that sort." "What then is her own name?" "Miriam Miriam Rooth.
"To marry you might not that be an ambition?" "A very paltry one. Don't answer for her, don't attempt that," said Peter. "You can do much better." "Do you think you can?" smiled Mrs. Rooth. "I don't want to; I only want to let it alone. She's an artist; you must give her her head," the young man pursued. "You must always give an artist his head." "But I've known great ladies who were artists.
Nash has rendered us the great service of introducing us to Madame Carré, and I'm sure we're immensely indebted to him," Mrs. Rooth said to her daughter with an air affectionately corrective. "But what good does that do us?" the girl asked, smiling at the actress and gently laying her finger-tips upon her hand.
What's he doing now?" asked Miss Rooth, standing near her young friend but looking at Nick, who had immediately engaged in conversation with his other visitor, a gentleman whose face came back to the girl. She had seen this gentleman on the stage with the great performer that was it, the night Peter took her to the theatre with Florry Tressilian.
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