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I shouldn't be at all surprised to find that Miss Lyston has comfortable investments right now, and that she's only scheming to Packer, don't you know whether she's been saving her salary or not? If you don't you ought to." "I came to tell you, sir. I thought you might be relieved to know. We don't have to bother about her, Mr. Potter.
And with every precaution not to jar down a seat in passing, he edged his way to the aisle and went softly thereby to the extreme rear of the house. He was an employee, too. It was a luckless lady who helped to fulfil the prediction. Technically she was the "ingenue"; publicly she was "Miss Carol Lyston"; legally she was a Mrs.
She gave him a startled look; then, without a word, slowly obeyed. "Ah, yes," he said a moment later. "We'll find something else for Miss Lyston when she recovers. You will keep the part." Author!" "Speech!" and "Cher maitre!" The recipient of these honours bore them with an uneasiness attributed to modesty, and making inadequate response, sat down to his soup with no importunate appetite.
Potter," said Miss Lyston, shaking. "Coughed!" he repeated slowly, and then with a sudden tragic fury shouted at the top of his splendid voice, "COUGHED!" He swung away from her, and strode up and down the stage, struggling with emotion, while the stricken company fastened their eyes to their strips of manuscript, as if in study, and looked neither at him nor Miss Lyston. "You only coughed!"
Potter relapsed into his chair in an attitude of gloom. "So they've begun to leave Talbot Potter's company!" he said, nodding his head with bitter melancholy. "For vaudeville! I'd better go to farming at once; I often think of it. What sort of an act is it that Miss Lyston prefers to remaining with me? Acrobatic?" "It's a little play," said Packer. "It's from the Grand Guignol." "French!"
Surbilt, being wife to the established leading man of that ilk, Vorly Surbilt. Miss Lyston had come to the rehearsal in a condition of exhausted nerves, owing to her husband's having just accepted, over her protest, a "road" engagement with a lady-star of such susceptible gallantry she had never yet been known to resist falling in love with her leading-man before she quarrelled with him.
Miss Lyston, you shouldn't have tried to rehearse when you're so ill. Do everything possible for Miss Lyston's comfort, Packer." He followed the pair as they entered the passageway to the stage door; then, Miss Lyston's demonstrations becoming less audible, he halted abruptly, and his brow grew dark with suspicion. When Packer returned, he beckoned him aside.
In the middle of the word there came a catch in his voice; he broke off, and whirling once more upon the miserable Miss Lyston, he transfixed her with a forefinger and a yell. "It wasn't a cough! What was that horrible noise you made?" Miss Lyston, being unable to reply in words, gave him for answer an object-lesson which demonstrated plainly the nature of the horrible noise.
She broke into loud, consecutive sobs, while Potter, very little the real cause of them, altered in expression from indignation to the neighborhood of lunacy. "She's doing this in purpose!" he cried. "What's the matter with her? She's sick! Miss Lyston, you're sick! Packer, get her away take her away. She's sick! Send her home send her home in a cab! Packer!" "Yes, Mr. Potter, I'll arrange it.
"I know him, and it sounds like something you're making up as you go along, Packer." "Indeed, I'm not, Mr. Potter!" the stage-manager cried, in simple distress. "I wouldn't know how." "Go on!" "Well, sir, it seems Vorly Surbilt was to go out with Mrs. Romaley, and it seems that when Miss Lyston left rehearsal she drove around till she found him " "Ah! I knew she was fooling me!
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