"Not quite a year ago since our first journey together," said Bambi.
"That's so. It seems a century, doesn't it?"
"That is a distinctly husband remark."
"I was only thinking of how much had happened in that time."
"Two new beings have happened--a new you and a new me," she answered him.
"Are you as changed as I am?" he asked.
"Yes. You haven't noticed me enough to realize it, I suppose."
He made no reply to that. Arrived in New York, they went to the clubhouse, and took the same rooms they had before. As Bambi looked about the room, she turned to Jarvis in the doorway:
"It is a century since I knelt at that window and arranged our spectacular success."
"Well, we're a year nearer to it. Let's get a good night's rest, for to-morrow we enter on a new chapter."
"It's jolly we enter it together, isn't it, Jarvis?"
He nodded, embarrassed.
"I should like to wish you luck in the new venture, Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn."
"I wish you the same, Miss Mite," he said, clasping her hand warmly.
"You haven't called me Miss Mite for a long time," she said, softly. "I like it."
"Good-night," said Jarvis abruptly, and left.
"You're a poor actor, my Jarvis," she chuckled to herself.
At eleven o'clock they presented themselves at the theatre. The reading was to take place in Mr. Frohman's big room. Jarvis and Bambi were admitted at once.
"Good-morning," said Mr. Frohman.
"Good-morning. This is Mrs. Jocelyn, Mr. Frohman."
Bambi offered her hand to the manager with a solemn face, but the laugh twinkled in her eyes.
"How do you do, Mrs. Jocelyn? I understand that you had a great deal to do with this play?"
"I did," she admitted. "Without me this play would have been nothing."
"This leaves you no ground to stand on, Mr. Jocelyn," he laughed.
The members of the company arrived and were presented to the authors. Bambi kept them all laughing until Mr. Frohman called order. They sat in state around the big table.
"I propose that Mrs. Jocelyn read us the play," Mr. Frohman said.
"Oh, shall I? It is really Jarvis----"
"If you please," said Mr. Frohman, indicating a chair.
So Bambi began, with a smile at Jarvis, and another at the audience. They all felt in a good humour. The play was so peculiarly hers, the intimate quality which had made the book "go" had been wonderfully retained, so that spontaneous laughter marked her progress through the comedy. It was all so true and universal, the characters so well drawn, the denouement so happy! At the climax of the third act the company broke into irresistible and unpremeditated applause.
"Oh, God bless you for that!" said Bambi, her eyes wet with gratitude.
"We ought to cast you for the girl. You are enough like her to have sat for the portrait," said Mr. Frohman, wickedly.
Jarvis turned to look at Bambi in his earnest way. He marked the likeness, again, himself.
"I shall play it just as you read it, Mrs. Jocelyn," said the girl who was cast for the lead.
"You will greatly improve on my Francesca, I'm sure," Bambi nodded to her.
Parts were distributed, much discussion followed as to character drawing and business, then they separated to meet for rehearsal the next day at 10:30. Mr. Frohman had an immediate appointment, so the Jocelyns had no opportunity for a word in private.
"Queer that Mr. Frohman should think that you are like Francesca, too," said Jarvis, on their way to the club.
"Oh, I don't know. We are the same type. That's all."
"You could play the part wonderfully."
"Could I? It would be fun! Still, I think we can make more money and have more fun writing plays."
She seemed always to be harping on their future together!
The next day was full of surprises for them both. They were entirely ignorant of conditions in and about the theatre. The big, dark house, with its seats all swathed in linen covers, the empty, barn-like stage, with chairs set about to indicate properties; the stage hands coming and going, the stage manager shouting directions--it was all new to them. The members of the company were as businesslike as bank clerks. No hint of illusion, no scrap of romance!
"Mercy! it's like a ghost house," said Bambi.
A deal table was set at one side, down stage, for the Jocelyns, with two scripts of the play. They sat down like frightened school children, bewildered as to what would be expected of them.
The actors sat in a row of chairs at one side. The stage manager made some explanations and remarks about rehearsals, and then the first act was called. It was slow and tedious work. Over and over again the scenes were tried. Some of the actors fumbled their lines as if they had never read English before. Now and then the manager appealed to the authors for the reading of a line, or an intonation, and Bambi always answered. At the end of one scene the man who was to play the young musician came to them.
"I've been thinking over my part, Mrs. Jocelyn, and I think that if you could write in a scene right here, in act first, to let me explain to the old fiddler my reason for being in this situation----"
"Oh, no, you mustn't explain. The whole point of the first act is that you explain nothing."
"Yes, but it would play better," he began, in the patronizing tone always used to newcomers in the theatre.
"I can't help that. I cannot spoil the truth of a whole character, even if it does play better," said Bambi, smiling sweetly.
The actor took it up with the stage manager after rehearsal, and was referred to the authors.
"These new playwrights always have to learn at our expense," he said, importantly.
"Can't be helped. We have to use playwrights, however irritating they are," remarked the stage manager.
Day after day they assembled at the same hour and slowly built up the structure of the play. Many nights Jarvis and Bambi worked on new scenes, or the rearrangement of the old ones. The first act was twisted about many times before it "played" to the stage manager's satisfaction. New lines had to be introduced, new business worked out every day. It was hard work for everybody except Bambi, and she declared it was fun. No matter how trying the rehearsals, nor how hard she had to work, she enjoyed every minute of it. They soon discovered that Jarvis had no talent for rehearsing. In fact, the mechanics of the thing bored him. When a new scene was demanded quickly, his mind refused to work. It was Bambi's quick wits that saved the day. After the first few days she was the only one to be consulted and appealed to by everybody.
"I can't see that you need me at all in this business. I'm no good at it."
"Yes, you are, too. You saw where that new scene in the third act belonged at once."
"Yes, after you wrote the scene."
"But this is why we need each other. I didn't see where the scene belonged at all. If we both could do the same thing, we wouldn't need to collaborate. Thank heaven, we don't have the author underfoot interfering all the time."
"I don't believe she would interfere."
"Heard anything from her, lately?"
"No, she is waiting for the production, I suppose."
"And then the deluge! I may lose you to that story-writing female yet!" she teased him.
"Don't!" he protested, quickly.
"I won't," she retorted, meaningly.
In late March the date of the production was set. It gave Bambi unbelievable pleasure to read the announcements on the billboards, and to stand in front of the three-sheets in the foyer of the theatre.
She wrote Ardelia full directions in regard to packing the Professor's dress clothes; she told her the train they were to take; she worked out every detail, so that nothing might be left to the sieve-like memories of the principals on this foreign journey.
She ordered a new frock for herself, and succeeded in getting Jarvis measured for new dress clothes. Then she threw herself, heart and soul, into the last few days of work at the theatre, helping to polish and strengthen the play. The night of dress rehearsal came, and with it a new development for her consideration and management.
XXVII
Dress rehearsal was called at midnight, as two of the principals were playing in other theatres. There was an air of suspense and confusion on the stage, where the new sets were being put on, which threw Jarvis into a cold sweat of terror. It only added one degree to Bambi's mounting excitement. She and Jarvis made their way to the front of the house, where Mr. Frohman, the leader of the orchestra, and a few other people interested in the production were assembled.
"I never realized before how many people, how much work and money and brain go into the production of the simplest comedy for one night's amusement," she said to Mr. Frohman.
"And yet managers are always blamed because they don't take more chances on new playwrights," he smiled.
"Jarvis looks as if he were walking to the guillotine, doesn't he?"
"It is a strain, isn't it, Jocelyn? You get used to it after a few first-nights."
Jarvis nodded, wetting his dry lips with a nervous tongue.
The curtain went down and came up. The first act began. Bambi scarcely breathed. Jarvis could be heard all over the house. The first part of the act hitched along and had to be repeated; the stage manager came out and scolded, while Mr. Frohman called directions from the front. Bambi turned to Jarvis.