True to her word, Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon presented Jerry and his idea
to her committee, and they appointed him Minister Extraordinary to the
whole affair. He was to design the setting for the pageant and such
costumes as he had time to do. He was to arrange and direct the
tableaux.
There was a slight hitch in affairs, when Jerry presented his terms, but
he was prepared for that. Mrs. Brendon sounded him on a reduction, but
he stood firm, assuring her that he must be free to put all his heart
and brain at their service. This was quite impossible unless he gave up
all other work for the time being. If that was not entirely satisfactory
to them, he would gladly withdraw. The interruption to his work was of
considerable moment. Mrs. Brendon carried this answer back to the
committee and they confirmed the amount, complaining bitterly.
Jerry was prepared for this incident. He also knew that in the end
they would pay just what he asked--would pay anything to get what
they wanted; and the particular thing they wanted now was a new way to
dress up. None of them thought it was funny for the seemly old prophets
to disport themselves at a ball, not until the newspaper wits began
to point it out. But it never pays for the metropolitan dailies to
be their funniest at the expense of the class which gives
fifty-thousand-dollar balls, so the affair got under way with much
advertising, and few jibes.
Jerry, with his first check safely deposited in the bank, went merrily
to work at his designs. He spent his days in the library, studying
costumes, looking over old pictures, working at effects. He decided upon
the throne room of King Herod as the big general background of the show.
He planned a wide staircase at the back, where, on a platform like a
landing, the tableaux should appear, after which the actors should
descend to bend the knee to the king and queen.
The plans began to grow, and, artist-like, Jerry hurled himself into his
work with abandon. He laboured early and late, until he was tired out,
before the real task of rehearsing, readjusting human equations, and
such problems had begun.
"Jerry, you goose, you act as if you had been engaged by the Crown
Prince to stage the Coronation. This is nothing but ready money to you,
why do you wear yourself out on it?" protested Bobs.
"I want it to be the biggest thing of the kind that New York ever had.
I'm interested in it. When it's over I will go off somewhere and rest.
Don't you worry."
"Mrs. Abercrombie Brendon will take you for a cruise on her yacht,
maybe," she said bitterly.
"Well, why not? I don't hate her yacht. What's the trouble, Bobsie? Are
you jealous of these ladies of the rich and great?"
She blazed out at him.
"Yes, I am. What right have they to come down here, take you away from
your work, pick your brains, wear you out, and then drop you when
they've taken what they want? I hate them all!"
"Steady, old girl," said Jerry, putting a hand on each of her shoulders,
and making her look at him. "For a penny, I'd shake you, Bobs! What do
you think I am, a mechanical doll? Don't I have anything to say about
what they do to me?"
"You think you do, but you don't."
"Don't you worry about me," he said shortly, and she knew he was
annoyed. He went back to work on a costume drawing, and Bobs went out
without another word.
"Damn," said Jerry softly. He worked rapidly for an hour. Then a
movement in his bedroom startled him.
"Who's that?" he called.
Jane Judd came into view, a sock pulled over one hand.
"Did you speak?"
"Oh, Jane Judd, I forgot you were there."
"I went into the other room when Miss Roberts came."
He looked at her quickly.
"Quite unnecessary. Is there anything in that ice-box I could eat? I
can't stop for lunch to-day."
She inspected his larder.
"I'll go get something," she said.
"Oh, don't bother. I'll do without."
Presently she started off, in hat and coat.
"Get enough for both of us, Miss Judd; I'll blow you to lunch."
She made no answer, closing the door softly not to disturb him. Later,
she laid the table, served a chop, creamed potatoes, a salad, and
Turkish coffee. When she called him, he came, drawing-board in hand. She
served him.
"Where is your place?" he inquired.
"I brought some lunch."
"You sit down there, and eat half _this_ lunch. It's a grand tiffin.
Where did you learn to cook, Jane Judd?"
She sat down opposite him, trembling in every inch of her body, but her
face wore its usual calm.
"Women don't learn to cook; they just absorb it. I've always done it."
She went to the little stove to serve herself to lunch and when she came
back he was studying his sketch while he ate. He scarcely noticed her.
When she refilled his coffee cup he became aware of her again.
"Heard about this big show I'm getting up?"
"Yes."
"Interesting thing. How did you hear about it?"
"Everybody talks about it. I was at the Chatfields' yesterday. They were
discussing it."
"Were they? What did they say?"
"I didn't listen."
"You mean you're not a sieve."
She smiled.
"By the Gods, I did not know you ever used a smile! What kind of person
are you, anyway?"
She rose at that, as if to end the interview. He went back to his work.
"Oh, I say, Jane Judd, I didn't mean to offend you, just when you had
smiled at me for the first time in five years' acquaintance," he called
out to her.
"All right," she replied briefly.
Jerry made a grimace and forgot her.
As work began to pile up; as this committee and that committee had to
consult with him; as the costumers had to be argued with, stuffs
selected; in fact, as the whole big machine began to revolve on Jerry as
axis, he frequently sent out a hurry call for Jane Judd to get him some
lunch or some dinner. He went on with his work while he ate, and never
again did he try to pierce the subterranean depths of Jane's
personality.
The last two weeks of preparation were hectic. Jerry's endurance was
wonderful, but his nerves were worn thin. At the eleventh hour the
costumers decided that they could not turn out the gowns for the "vestal
virgins," on time. They broke the news to Jerry over the 'phone one
frantic day when everything had gone wrong.
"My God! what am I going to do?" he burst out, as he hung up the
receiver.
"What is the matter?" Jane asked.
He explained with an outburst of rage.
"Are they hard to make?"
"No, but they've got to be done day after to-morrow."
"How many?"
"Sixteen."
"If I could get a couple of women to help, I might manage it for you."
"Jane Judd, do you mean it? Get somebody; pay 'em anything; but get 'em
here and let's begin."
"Have you got the stuff?"
"No, but I'll telephone for it and get it here special."
"Go ahead. Don't forget thread and needles."
While he was telephoning, Bobs appeared at the door.
"Look here, Jane; Jerry Paxton is absorbing entirely too much of your
time. I'm wearing stockings with holes in them."
"I was just coming to tell you that something has gone wrong with some
costumes, and I've offered to get somebody to help me, and make them for
him."
"Upon my word, is there anything else you can do for the pampered
darling? Jinny Chatfield and I could help you."
"Thanks."
Bobs ran off to get her assistant, and when the stuff arrived Jane had
three pairs of hands waiting for Jerry.
"Bobs, Jinny, I can't take your time like this, you old dears."
"Don't blather, Jerry; explain the design," said Jinny.
He laughed and held up a drawing which both women inspected.
"Heavens! I don't know how to cut that," exclaimed Bobs.
"No more do I," said Jinny.
"Let me look at it," Jane remarked, and they all waited for her comment.
"Does this hang straight, neck to hem?" she asked.
He explained it carefully to her.
"I think I can cut it; then I'll pin it on you, Miss Roberts, and if
it's right we'll cut them all at once."
"Heaven be praised for Jane," said Bobs.
Jane went to work. For the next two hours they worked over it, Jerry
explaining, Jane executing. Jerry was nervous and spoke impatiently now
and then, but Jane was calm. In the end the gown was cut and basted and
hung on tired Bobs. Then Jane ripped it up, to cut all the rest by it,
and real work began. Jerry had to go to rehearsal, so he left them hard
at it.
"You've saved my life, you three blessed, stitching old Fates," said he.
"What more could any woman ask?" said Bobs.
To the astonishment of everybody, Jane Judd laughed at that.