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Updated: May 20, 2025
If they accept it, then I can meet them again on equal terms. I long to see you; but I am in disgrace and infinitely poorer than when I first met you." Over this letter Helen pondered long. Her first impulse was to send the play back without reading it, but her love suggested another subterfuge. "I will do his will, and if Hugh and Westervelt find the play acceptable I will share in his triumph.
As they were rising from the table Westervelt entered with a face like a horse, so long and lax was it. "They have burned us alive!" he exclaimed, as he sank into a chair and mopped his red neck. He shook like a gelatine pudding, and Helen could not repress a smile. "Your mistake was in reading them. We burned the critics." The manager stared in vast amaze. "You didn't read the papers?"
"Of what can you possibly be thinking, Major Plume?" he demanded, slowly now, for wrath was burning within him, and yet he strove for self-control. He had had a lesson and a sore one. "I will answer that a little later, Captain Wren," said Plume, rising from his seat, rejoicing in the new light now breaking upon him. Westervelt, too, had gasped a sigh of relief.
To a little girl only four years old their huge, open mouths looked appalling. On landing a grievous disappointment awaited us; my father did not meet us. He was in New Bedford, Massachusetts, nursing his grief and preparing to return to England, for he had been told that the John Jacob Westervelt had been lost at sea with every soul on board.
Westervelt, this is no place for this discussion. Good-night." She bowed to the friends who had loyally gathered to greet her. "I am grateful to you for your sympathy." There was, up to this time, no word of the author; but Hugh, as he walked by her side, broke out resentfully, "Do you know that beggar playwright " "Not a word of him, Hugh," she said.
Westervelt gave us a reception one afternoon. A great many people came. Some of them asked odd questions. A lady seemed surprised that I loved flowers when I could not see their beautiful colors, and when I assured her I did love them, she said, "no doubt you feel the colors with your fingers."
The manager was jubilant. "Now we will see a theatre once more. I tought I vas running a church or a school. Now we will see carriages at the door again and some dress-suits pefore the orchestra. Eh, Hugh?" "I'm glad to see you come to your senses," said Hugh, ignoring Westervelt. "That chap had us all " She stopped him. "Not a word of that. Mr.
He told me something more that we might consider, too." "What was that, Jack?" "You remember Mr. Silas Westervelt, the Quaker of Manchester?" "Sure. I've often talked with him, and my father is their family doctor," replied Paul, readily enough. "It seems that he's become interested in this scout movement, which he endorses through and through.
My contract with Westervelt has really expired so far as his exclusive control over me is concerned, and I will not be coerced into a return to such work." Her eyes were opened also to the effect of her characters on the audiences that assembled night after night to hear her, and she began to be troubled by the thousands of young girls who flocked to her matinées.
"I never saw the man before," he muttered, without turning his head. But I had seen him three times already. Once, on occasion of my first visit to the Veiled Lady; a second time, in the wood-path at Blithedale; and lastly, in Zenobia's drawing-room. It was Westervelt.
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