Then came the disappointment of the tragedy. The manager of the
Cottenham Repertory Theatre wrote to say that they were compelled to
postpone the production of it for a few weeks because their season had
been unfortunate and they were eager to replenish their treasury by the
production of popular pieces. They all admired John's play very much
and were quite certain that it would be a great artistic success, but
its tragical nature made it unlikely to be profitable to any of them
just at present....
"It's funny how these people keep on talking about _artistic_
success when they think a thing isn't going to be any good," Eleanor
said when he had finished reading the letter to her.
"No good!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean, no good!"
"Well ... of course I don't mean that your play isn't any good ... only
I begin to feel doubtful about things when I hear the word
_artistic_ mentioned."
"They're only postponing the play for a short while until they've got
enough money together to keep on. That's reasonable, isn't it?"
"Oh, yes. It's reasonable. I'm not saying anything about that ... only
it's a disappointment!"
"I'm disappointed myself," he said, ruefully contemplating the letter.
"How much do you think you'll make out of it, John?" Eleanor asked
pensively.
"Make? Oh, I don't know. About a hundred pounds or so on the first
performances ... and then there's the London season ... and of course
if the play's a great success, we shall make our fortune. But I think
we can reckon on a hundred pounds anyhow. I don't want to expect too
much. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I'm getting anxious about money. You see, dear, you haven't
earned much since we got married, have you?"
"No, not much. One or two articles in the _Sensation._ But you
needn't worry about that. I'll look after the money part. Don't you
worry!"
"Perhaps you could get a regular job on the _Evening Herald_ now
that Mr. Hinde's in charge of it," she suggested.