The four girls, in the reception room, waited the coming of their guest. To their surprise, Mr. Forbes came in, and looked them over with a chuckle. "Well, you ARE ready for the fray, aren't you?" he said, taking in their dressy finery and their important, self-conscious airs. "Yes, Uncle Jeff," responded Alicia; "will you stay and see our young man?" For some unexplained reason, Uncle Jeff laughed heartily. But he checked his merriment, and said, "No, Alicia, I fear I might intrude; I know you want to flirt with this young actor, and I'd be a spoilsport. But let me warn you to be very gentle with him. You see, he may be so overcome by this galaxy of youth and beauty that he'll be embarrassed and run away!" "Nonsense, uncle," said Bernice, "actors are not easily embarrassed. More likely we girls will be struck dumb at his splendour and importance." "Well, tell me all about it afterward," and still chuckling, Mr. Forbes went off. "What ails Uncle?" said Alicia, pettishly. "Anybody'd think he had a joke on us." "No," Dotty rejoined, "only he's sort of old, you know, and he doesn't see the fun in this, as we do." "Well, I wish the fun would hurry up! It's after four now." "Such people are never on time," said Alicia, with a great air of experience. "He's sure to be late. Oh, there's the bell now!" The girls, with hearts beating high, grouped themselves in a picturesque pose, which they had practised beforehand, and breathlessly watched the doorway. Through it came, in a moment, a jolly-faced man, with an informal manner and pleasant smile. "Hullo, girlies," he said, "what's up? Expecting a party? Well, I won't keep you a minute. Where's Mr. Forbes?" "Why, you're the party, Mr. Coriell," said Alicia, stepping forward to greet him, and looking very coquettish as she smiled up into his face. "Oh, am I! all right, have it your own way, kiddies. But I can't give you more than ten minutes of my valuable time. What do you want? Autographs? Or tickets for a box? Speak up, now." "Oh, no!" exclaimed Bernice, for Alicia was speechless with disappointment at this prosaic attitude on the part of the visitor. "We just want to—to talk to you." "You see," said Dolly, frankly, "we thought you'd be—different." "Oh, of course you did! They always do! You wanted to see the Lascar, not plain James Brown!" "What!" cried Alicia, hope rising in her breast that this was not the great actor after all, "aren't you Bayne Coriell?" "Sure! That's my stage name, but in private life I'm James Brown, at your service." "You don't even look like the Lascar!" wailed Dotty, dismayed at the turn things had taken. "Of course, I don't, little one. Actors on and off, are two different persons. Oh, I begin to see through this performance. Your uncle didn't tell you anything about me! Eh?" "No, sir," said Dolly, as the others were silent. "We saw you in your play, and we admired your work so much, that we—we—" "Oh, the matinee idol business! Well, well! I didn't expect that. Why, kiddies, outside the theatre, I'm just a plain United States citizen. I have a daughter about the age of you girls. My Muriel is fourteen, nearly fifteen, but she's taller than any of you. Your uncle is a great friend of mine. He was my father's chum, and he has been more than kind to me all my life. I supposed he knew all about the letter from Miss Alicia, and ran around here expecting to see you and him both." "That's why he chuckled at us!" and Dolly's eyes twinkled at the joke. Somehow, she seemed more at ease with the actor than the other girls. "You see, Mr. Brown, we thought you'd be more like you are on the stage. Of course we didn't expect you'd be dressed like the Lascar, or—or—made up,—isn't that what you call it? but we thought you'd be stagy and actory—" James Brown laughed. "Everybody thinks that, or something like it," he said. "Few people realise that an actor's profession is MERELY a profession,—a business; and that we discard it out of business hours." "But don't you get lots of notes from—from your audiences?" asked "Indeed I do. My wife looks after 'em, and most of 'em go into the trash basket. But of course a note from Jefferson Forbes' home was welcome, and I was glad to call on his nieces. Are you all his nieces?" "No," said Alicia, who had recovered her poise, and she introduced the other girls by name. "I wrote the note, because I thought you were—" "Because you thought I was a gay young sport," laughed James Brown; "well, I'm sorry, for your sake, that I'm merely an uninteresting, middle-aged man, but, I doubt if your uncle would have let you send that note, if I had been a stranger to him. Take my advice, girls, for I know what I'm talking about, never write to an actor with whom you are not acquainted. It can never lead to any good result and might lead to great harm." "Are they all bad?" asked Dolly, innocently. "No, indeed, far from it. But many of them are thoughtless; and, too, if a girl so far forgets the conventions as to write to a stranger, an actor often thinks he is justified in meeting her half way. And nice girls don't write to men they don't know. The fact that a man is an actor, is no more reason to treat him informally than if he were a broker or a merchant. It is the glamour of the stage that blinds you to the proprieties. That's only natural, I know, and that's why I'm presuming to give you this little talk for your own good. If ever you feel moved to make advances to a matinee idol,—don't do it!" Alicia looked decidedly chagrined and a little angry, but Mr. Brown proceeded to talk of other matters, and though it was plain to be seen he meant the advice he had given them, all unpleasant effect was forgotten as he began to tell them some funny anecdotes. And then tea was brought in, and they all grouped round the teatable, still listening to his entertaining chat. The actor was a good-looking man, but far from being as handsome as he appeared on the stage. His fascination and charm were evidently as much put on as his swarthy complexion and long black hair, which so became him as an East Indian. Really, his hair was ash-coloured, and he was rather bald. "I expect to go on the stage," observed Dolly, as they ate the cakes and bon-bons that accompanied the elaborate tea service. "You do!" exclaimed the guest. "Why?" "Because I feel I have talent for it. Not so much as an actress, perhaps, but as a singer. What shall I do first, Mr. Brown, to prepare for the light opera stage?" James Brown looked at her kindly. "I see you are in earnest," he said, in a serious tone, "and so, I will treat your question practically. The first thing to do, is to finish your education, and then start on a course of voice training. By the time you have done these things, come to me again, and I will advise you further. Do you think me flippant?" he continued, as Dolly looked decidedly disappointed. "I am telling you just the line to follow that I expect my own daughter to pursue. Muriel has promise of a good singing voice. I assume you have that hope also, otherwise you wouldn't think of a stage career. Tell your parents what I have told you, and if they care to consult me on the subject I shall be more than glad to meet them." "Good gracious! What a come down!" cried Dotty. "We thought of course "That has been done successfully," and Mr. Brown smiled, "about one time in ten thousand. My plan is surer and better in every way." "Is that the way Miss Marie Desmond learned?" asked Dolly, wistfully. "Yes, my child. Miss Desmond worked long and faithfully before she attained her present position. If you'd care to meet her and have a little talk with her, I can arrange it. Suppose you all come to my house some afternoon, and Muriel will make a little party for you, and I'm sure I can persuade Miss Desmond to meet you for a few minutes at least. She is not a lady easy of access, I can tell you, but she will meet friends of mine." "Well, well, Jim, hobnobbing with young people, are you?" sang out a hearty voice from the hall, and Uncle Jeff came stalking into the room. "Glad to see you, my boy. You seem to be getting on famously." "Yes, indeed. Your nieces and their friends are the most charming bunch of young people I've seen in a long time. We're discussing all sorts of matters of interest. Join us in a cup of tea, won't you?" "That's what I'm here for," and Uncle Jeff took a seat among the group. "Yes, thank you. I'm just asking these girls to come round, say to-morrow, for a little party. Or would you rather have a box party at the theatre?" The girls decided in favour of the afternoon party at Mr. Brown's home, and the matter was settled. And then, somehow, the two men fell into conversation, which in no way interested the girls, being about political matters and business affairs. Indeed, their very presence seemed to be forgotten by the gentlemen. Absent-mindedly Uncle Jeff accepted a second cup of tea, and then a third, still arguing a point of finance with his guest. Alicia, in high dudgeon, made a motion to the others that they leave the room, and Dolly nodded assent. So, noiselessly, the four rose from their seats, and stole out into the hall. Mr. Brown looked up, saw them go, and waved his hand with a smile of farewell, but Uncle Jeff paid no attention, if indeed, he noticed their departure. "Well! of all things!" exclaimed Alicia, as they sought refuge in the library, which was in the rear of the house. "I call that positively insulting!" "Now, 'Licia," and Dotty laughed, "you know the man said he could only give us ten minutes of his time, and he gave us more than a half hour. I don't think we've any reason to complain." "Well, I do! It was a perfect fizzle, the whole thing! I'm utterly disgusted! Matinee idol! Pooh, he's just an every-day man!" "Well, that's just what he said he was," rejoined Bernice, who was almost as much disappointed as Alicia. "But he was very kind and pleasant, I think." "Oh, kind enough," and Alicia still pouted; "but I thought he would be young and—and sporty, you know." "He certainly isn't sporty! whatever he is," said Dolly. "I think he's awfully nice. I'm glad we're going to his daughter's party. It's fine to go to a place like that." "She's just a little girl," complained Alicia. "Fourteen years old! I don't want to go to an infant class!" "All right," put in Bernice, "you can stay home, then. I'm delighted to go. To think of telling the girls at home that we went to Bayne Coriell's daughter's party! My, won't they think we're grand!" "That's so," agreed Alicia. "Not everybody could get such an invitation. We couldn't, only that he's Uncle Jeff's friend. But I can tell you, girls, if I hadn't got up this whole scheme we wouldn't have been asked there. You can thank me for it." "Dolly, too," said Dotty. "If she hadn't asked Mrs. Berry, he wouldn't have come at all." "Yes, he would; why wouldn't he?" "Oh, pshaw! It was all made up by Uncle Jeff. You could see that. Mrs. "You're right, you little smarty-cat," and Alicia smiled at the astute Dotty. "And I do believe Uncle Jeff meant to give us a lesson about writing to actors. I thought it was queer he took it so easily,—and Mrs. Berry too. They played right into our hands. They wouldn't have done that if the actor person had been a stranger." |