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PAGE 27

Harlequin And Columbine
by [?]

“You don’t git ’em!” said this personage briefly, when Potter had ordered chops and “oeufs a la creole” and lettuce salad, from a card. “You got to eat partridge and asparagus tips salad!”

And he went away, leaving the terrible Potter resigned and unrebellious.

The partridge was undeniable when it came; a stuffed man would have eaten it. But Talbot Potter and his two guests did little more than nibble it; they neither ate nor talked, and yet they looked anything but unhappy. Detached from their surroundings, as they sat over their coffee, they might have been taken to be three poetic gentlemen listening to a serenade.

After a long and apparently satisfactory silence, Talbot Potter looked at his watch, but not, as it proved, to see if it was time to return to the theatre, his ensuing action being to send a messenger to procure a fresh orchid to take the place of the one that had begun to droop a little from his buttonhold. He attached the new one with an attentive gravity shared by his companions.

“Good thing, a boutonniere,” he explained. “Lighten it up a little. Rehearsal’s dry work, usually. Thinking about it last night. Why not lighten it up a little? Why shouldn’t an actor dress as well for a company of strangers at a reception? Ought to make it as cheerful as we can.”

“Yes,” said Tinker, nodding. “Something in that. I believe they work better. I must say I never saw much better work than those people were doing this morning. It was a fine rehearsal.”

“It’s a fine company,” Potter said warmly. “They’re the best people I ever had. They’re all good, every one of them, and they’re putting their hearts into this play. It’s the kind of work that makes me proud to be an actor. I am proud to be an actor! Is there anything better?” He touched the young playwright on the arm, a gesture that hinted affection. “Stewart Canby,” he said, “I want to tell you I think we’re going to make a big thing out of this play. It’s going to be the best I’ve ever done. It’s going to be beautiful!”

From the doorway into the lobby of the hotel there came a pretty sound of girlish voices whispering and laughing excitedly, and, glancing that way, the three men beheld a group of peering nymphs who fled, delighted.

“Ladies stop to rubber at Mr. Potter,” explained the remarkable headwaiter over the star’s shoulder. “Mr. Potter, it’s time you got marrit, anyhow. You git marrit, you don’t git stared at so much!” He paused not for a reply, but hastened away to countermand the order of another customer.

“Married,” said Potter musingly. “Well, there is such a thing as remaining a bachelor too long–even for an actor.”

“Widower, either,” assented Mr. Tinker as from a gentle reverie. “A man’s never too old to get married.”

His employer looked at him somewhat disapprovingly, but said nothing; and presently the three rose, without vocal suggestion from any of them, and strolled thoughtfully back to the theatre, pausing a moment by the way, while Tinker bought a white carnation for his buttonhole. There was a good deal, he remarked absent-mindedly, in what Mr. Potter had said about lightening up a rehearsal.

Probably there never was a more lightened-up rehearsal than that afternoon’s. Potter’s amiability continued;–nay, it increased: he was cordial; he was angelic; he was exalted and unprecedented. A stranger would have thought Packer the person in control; and the actors, losing their nervousness, were allowed to display not only their energy but their intelligence. The stage became a cheery workshop, where ambition flourished and kindness was the rule. For thus did the starry happiness that glowed within the beatific bosom of the little “ingenue” make Arcady around her.

At four o’clock Talbot Potter stepped to the front of the stage and lifted his hand benevolently. “That will do for to-day,” he said, facing the company. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you. I have never had a better rehearsal, and I think it is only your due to say you have pleased me very much, indeed. I cannot tell you how much. I feel strongly assured of our success in this play. Again I thank you. Ladies and gentlemen”–he waved his hand in dismissal–“till to-morrow morning.”