MR. LUDLOW'S OFFER
The holidays passed all too quickly to the happy party at Old
Bellvieu. Herr and Frau Deichenberg came no more during the stay of
the Judge and Molly, but Gerald and Aurora were over nearly every
evening.
One night, toward the close of the week, Aunt Betty and the Judge
chaperoned a party of young people, including Dorothy, Molly, Aurora,
Gerald, Jim and Len to the theater, where one of the reigning comic
opera successes was on view. It was an imported piece of the "Merry
Widow" type, and everyone enjoyed it to the utmost. Aunt Betty and
the Judge found their risibilities thoroughly shaken by the antics of
the star, a comedian of prominence, while the tastes of the young
people seemed to incline toward the bright chorus numbers, and the
individual songs and duets.
Len was perhaps the most joyous member of the party. It was his first
experience at the theater, and the elaborate stage settings, the
bright lights, and the catchy music had opened to him the gates of
Fairyland, as it were.
When one of the characters cracked a joke, and the comedian replied
that he was very fond of walnuts and hickory nuts, but not at all
partial to chestnuts, Len nearly fell out of his seat, and the young
lady who followed them on the stage was well through her song before
he controlled his laughter enough to realize what was going on.
Len's merriment so pleased Aunt Betty and Judge Breckenridge that
they, too, burst into laughter, which continued until a whispered
"Sh!" from Dorothy warned them that they were attracting the
attention of others in the theater. Then the Judge put his finger to
his lips and looked solemnly at Len and Aunt Betty, whereupon the
trio instantly became sober, and turned their attention again to the
stage.
After the theater the Judge insisted on treating the party to hot
chocolate and cake, so they were led to a popular resort often
frequented during the days by Dorothy and Aurora. This served to
round off a very pleasant evening, and as there was nothing to
prevent each member of the party from sleeping late the following
morning, their happiness was complete.
So urgently did Aunt Betty and Dorothy beg Molly and the Judge to
spend the early part of January with them, that the Judge consented,
greatly to Molly's delight.
"Business really demands my attention in New York," he said, "but I
suppose that can wait another week. We don't have times like this
every year, do we Molly, girl?"
"Indeed, no," responded the person addressed.
"But it will not be my fault hereafter, if you do not have them each
year," said Aunt Betty. "I hereby issue a standing invitation for you
both to spend the next holiday season with us, and the next, and the
next, and so on, and next year, Judge, you must bring your sister
Lucretia. It was an oversight on my part in not inviting her on this
occasion."
"Lucretia has been very busy doing some settlement work, and
Christmas is her busy time, hence, she would have been unable to
accept your kind invitation. Next year, however, things may have
changed. If so, we shall certainly bring her with us."
There followed a succession of trips to nearby points of interest.
The snow, which lay thick during the holidays, began to melt soon
after the new year dawned, and, the roads drying hard, Gerald came
over one day in the auto and took them for a jaunt in the country.
A fishing excursion to the shores of the bay on another day, with Jim
and Ephraim as the pilots, served to demonstrate to the Judge that he
was every bit as good a fisherman as he had been in the early days,
for he caught eight speckled sea-trout, and three red-fish--a better
record than was made by any other member of the party.
Finally, the Judge and Molly took their departure, the former
declaring that the duties in New York had become imperative ones.
Dorothy hated to lose her chum again, they saw each other so seldom,
but agreed with Molly that the latter must spend some time in her own
home.
Then, as February passed, and the winds of March began to make
themselves felt, things settled down to their usual routine at
Bellvieu.
Dorothy, who had resumed her lessons immediately upon Molly's
departure, was fast approaching a point where, Herr Deichenberg
declared, she would be able to appear before an audience in the most
critical of musical centers. He advised that she immediately seek the
opportunity, or allow him to seek one for her.
Again Aunt Betty interposed a mild objection, and the music master,
with a sly wink at Dorothy, observed under his breath:
"Just leave it to me."
This Dorothy did, and with good results, as will be seen.
She dropped the subject entirely when Aunt Betty was around, resolved
to wait until the psychological moment arrived to again broach the
matter, or until she heard further from Herr Deichenberg.
Two weeks passed and finally Herr Deichenberg came out to the house
one morning with Mr. Ludlow, whom he presented to Aunt Betty.
At first the mistress of Bellvieu was inclined to receive the
theatrical man coldly, believing he had come to entice her niece
away, but gradually, under Herr Deichenberg's careful urging, she
began to see matters in a new light.
"Mr. Ludlow has no desire to take Miss Dorothy avay from you," said
the Herr, earnestly. "Please believe me vhen I tell you. Also believe
me vhen I say dat all of Miss Dorothy's lessons vill go for naught,
if she does not seek a time und place to exploit her talents. There
is open for her a career of great prominence--of dat I am very sure,
but to attain de pinnacle of success, she must first go a few steps
above de middle rounds of de ladder. Mr. Ludlow has a good
proposition to make to her, und one dat meets with my hearty
approval. I beg of you, Mrs. Calvert, listen carefully to vhat he has
to say, und deliberate before you give him an answer."
"If Dorothy's welfare is at stake I shall listen, of course; I should
have listened, anyway, but with some prejudice, I will admit. I
cannot see where it will do my niece any great good to become a stage
celebrity, but if Mr. Ludlow can convince me, I stand ready to
acknowledge my error."
"I am sure that is fair enough," said Mr. Ludlow, smiling genially.
He had a pleasant personality--refined, even striking in the more
serious moments, and Aunt Betty felt attracted to him the instant he
began to speak.
"A career for your niece, Mrs. Calvert--a professional career--under
proper management, is distinctly the proper thing for her. I heard
her play at Herr Deichenberg's concert here last fall, and knew at
once that she had an exceptional amount of talent, which, if
fostered, under the Herr's careful methods, would make of her one of
the musical wonders of the age. It was then I made my offer--which
was merely a tentative one--to Miss Calvert, not meaning to in any
way override your authority, but merely for the purpose of sounding
her out and winning a promise that she would give me an option on her
services, provided she decided to adopt the concert stage as a
career."
"She told me of her conversation with you," returned Aunt Betty, "and
I am free to admit that I was prejudiced against it."
"You were also prejudiced against riding fast in Gerald's automobile,
auntie," said Dorothy, smiling. "But Gerald overcame that just as Mr.
Ludlow is going to try to overcome this."
"From speeding in an automobile, to adopting the concert stage as a
career, is a far cry, my dear," returned Aunt Betty, rather severely,
Dorothy thought.
Had she known what was passing in her relative's mind, however, the
girl would not for a moment have condemned her. Had she known, for
instance, that Aunt Betty's prejudice against the stage as a career
was not at the bottom of her refusal, but the fact that she feared
Dorothy would be taken away from her in her old age, just when she
had found her a second time, and learned to know and love her, she
would have immediately thrown her arms around Aunt Betty's neck and
making no comment have kissed her affectionately.
"Of course, I do not know the state of your finances, nor would I be
so presuming as to inquire," Mr. Ludlow went on, "but it may interest
you to know that if Miss Dorothy goes on the concert stage it will
mean quite a tidy sum of money for her--and money, I am sure, will
always prove a handy asset to have around. So, both artistically and
financially, it seems the proper thing for her to do."
"But I have heard that girls on the stage are exposed to many
temptations," protested Aunt Betty, who felt the ground slipping from
under her arguments. Realizing, as she did, that it was Dorothy's
wish that she give the concert stage a trial, she was inclined to be
lenient.
"A wrong impression, madame--an entirely wrong impression," said Mr.
Ludlow, emphatically. "There are temptations in stage life, yes; but
so there are in other professions, and he or she who falters will
find their steps to be hard ones, no matter who they are or where
they be. Force of character rules on the stage, Mrs. Calvert, just as
it does in every other walk of life. Thus it is that the theatrical
profession shelters some of the smartest, most wonderful women the
world has ever known. Because a few notoriety seekers have caused
the finger of scorn to be pointed at an honorable profession, just as
one dishonest employe can, and frequently does, cause a whole
institution to be looked at with suspicion, should the dramatic
profession, as a whole, be made to suffer? I ask you this in all
fairness, madame, and await your answer."
"Well, really, I hadn't considered it in that light," said Aunt
Betty, slowly, deliberately. "I believe you are right, Mr. Ludlow,
and I thank you sincerely for changing my viewpoint. Ever since I saw
that great play, 'The Music Master,' with David Warfield in the part
of Herr von Barwig, I have wondered if the theatrical profession was
wholly a bad one. Now, I think I understand."
"I am glad it remained for me to tell you, Mrs. Calvert."
"And if my niece sees fit to arrange with you for a metropolitan
appearance, and you feel that it will be a great triumph for her, I
shall certainly not stand in the way."
"Oh, you dear, good auntie!" Dorothy cried, throwing her arms about
Mrs. Calvert's neck and giving her a resounding kiss. "I shall thank
you all my life for those few words."
"Mrs. Calvert, you have made a very sensible decision," Herr
Deichenberg remarked with no little degree of satisfaction. "Believe
me, I know vhat I say iss true. Und now, if you vill please allow Mr.
Ludlow to make some necessary arrangements before he takes his leave,
it vill greatly facilitate matters."
Aunt Betty quickly assented, and turning to Dorothy, Mr. Ludlow said:
"What I wish is for you to appear at a preliminary concert in New
York City, at a date yet to be decided upon. You will be under the
watchful eye of your music master, and the affair will be given under
his auspices. You will, perhaps, have some prominent vocalist to help
you fill in the evening's entertainment. I wish to know if this will
be agreeable?"
"Yes, if the date is not too soon," the girl replied.
"As to that, we shall suit your pleasure, so it occurs before warm
weather sets in."
"It need not be later than the first of May."
"Then please sign this contract. I have drawn it up with the approval
of Herr Deichenberg, but before attaching your name, I will ask you
to read it and be sure you thoroughly understand it."
"Perhaps my lawyers might--" Aunt Betty began.
Herr Deichenberg raised his hand in dissent.
"Madame, it iss unnecessary. I am familiar with every form of
contract und I say to you dat de one offered your niece by Mr. Ludlow
is equitable and just, and can only be to her advantage."
"We will take your word, of course," replied Aunt Betty. "The only
reason I spoke is that neither Dorothy or myself is well versed in
contracts of any sort."
"The very reason why I prepared the contract after suggestions
offered by Herr Deichenberg," said Mr. Ludlow with a good-natured
smile.
"Oh, Aunt Betty!" cried Dorothy, as she read the document, "for one
appearance in New York, I am to receive one hundred dollars and my
expenses both ways. I think that is a very liberal offer."
"Merely a pittance, Miss Calvert, beside what you will get if your
concert pleases the music lovers of the metropolis, who, as you are
no doubt aware, are the most discriminating in the country."
"Oh, I hope I shall please them. I shall try so hard."
"You just leave dat to me," said Herr Deichenberg. "Any young lady
who played as you did at my concert, need have no fear of facing a
metropolitan audience."
"The plan is, Miss Calvert," Mr. Ludlow went on, in a thoroughly
business-like tone, "if your New York concert proves a success, for
you to sign contracts to appear next season under my management in
the principal cities of the country. When we know positively that
this is advisable, we will discuss terms, and I assure you we shall
not quarrel over the matter of a few dollars, more or less."
"I'm sure we won't," replied Dorothy.
Aunt Betty found herself hoping for the success of the plan. All
opposition to the matter seemed, for the time, to have slipped her
mind.
Mr. Ludlow bade them good-by shortly after, and left in company with
Herr Deichenberg.
Dorothy closed the door softly behind them, then, happy that her
ambition was at last to become a reality, threw herself in the arms
of Aunt Betty and sobbed:
"Oh, auntie, auntie, it has come at last, but it won't--it won't take
me away from you."
"We must not be too sure of that, my dear," Aunt Betty replied, as
calmly as she could. Her wildly-beating heart cried out for the love
and sympathy that she knew only this girl could give her. How could
she ever, ever bear to give her up?
"Auntie, dear," Dorothy said, straightening up and wiping her eyes
with quick, nervous little dabs, "if such a thing as separation is
even suggested, I shall never move a step from old Bellvieu--never,
never!"
"Oh, my dear, I cannot expect you to give up a great career for me."
"What would any sort of a career be without you? Nothing--absolutely
nothing! I wouldn't listen to it for a moment. Where I go there you
shall go also."
"But I am getting too old to travel."
Aunt Betty's protest, however, sounded rather feeble.
"Nonsense!" the girl replied. "You were the very life of our camping
party, and I'm sure riding in railroad trains is not half so
strenuous as speeding forty miles an hour over country roads in an
automobile. No objections, now, auntie dear, unless you want me to
give up my career before it is begun."
"No, no, of course, I--"
"Of course you don't want me to do that. Certainly not. For that very
reason, if for no other, you are going to accompany me wherever I go,
which means that you may as well start planning that new spring
dress, for we will be traveling New Yorkward ere many weeks have
passed."
"Do you think blue would be becoming, dear?"
Dorothy could have laughed outright with delight, when she saw how
quickly Aunt Betty became lost in contemplation over what she should
wear on the trip.
"Well, yes, if it is of the proper shade, auntie, but you know
nothing becomes you so well as black."
"Black it shall be, then--black panama, with a nice new bonnet to
match."
"And I, auntie, dear, what shall _I_ wear? How are we to afford all
these fine things when our finances are at a low ebb?"
"Our finances are in better condition than they were, dear. A letter
a few days since from my lawyers, states that certain property I have
placed in their hands is rapidly increasing in value, and that I
shall be able to realize from time to time such sums as I may need."
"Oh, I'm so glad! Strange you didn't tell me."
"I'd forgotten it. I really believe I am getting absent-minded."
Had Dorothy known the truth--that though the lawyers had agreed to
advance certain sums, it meant a mortgage on old Bellvieu, her peace
of mind would have been sadly disturbed.
But Aunt Betty took good care she did not know it--self-sacrificing
soul that she was.