THE RECOGNITION
Esther was not waiting in the accustomed place where Polly had
previously found her when she came off the stage. On her way to the
dressing room she shivered a little, missing the coat that her friend
was in the habit of wrapping about her shoulders. The night was
extremely cold and the back of a theater is nearly always breezy.
Polly hurried faster than usual to her room--a small dark one at the
end of a passage-way. But even here there was no sign of Esther. What
could have become of her? She was not apt to be talking with any of
the members of the company; for both girls had decided that it was
wiser to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible.
Well, she must do her best to get out of her fairy costume and back
into sensible garments by her own efforts. Esther would be coming
along in a few moments. She could not stand idle with her teeth fairly
chattering and those ridiculous little chills chasing themselves all
over her. Wouldn't it be too absurd to take cold at this particular
time and so make a failure of her adventure? For she would thus heap
all the family disapproval and punishment upon her own head and incur
the righteous indignation of everybody in the company by having to
resign her part.
Would any one ever have imagined that a garment could be so difficult
to unfasten as this one she was now incased in? For of course the
stiffness and shakiness of Polly's fingers came from the zero
temperature in her dressing room and not in the least from the
momentary fright she had received from her supposed recognition of a
face in the audience. Undoubtedly she had been mistaken. Yet why
should she have chosen to believe that she saw about the most unlikely
person of her acquaintance? A guilty conscience should have conjured
up some ghost who had more right to be present.
Polly finally did succeed in getting into her street clothes without
assistance; and though five, ten minutes passed, Esther did not appear
in the dressing room. Nor was she anywhere in the hall, since Polly
had several times thrust her head out the door to look for her.
Polly was a little uneasy, though assuredly nothing serious could have
happened to Esther. Esther had been very good to her during these past
days, so staunch and loyal, never reproaching her or arguing once she
had become convinced that Polly's mind was made up, and taking such
wonderful care of her, guarding her so closely! If ever there came a
time when her mother, or Mollie, or Betty should attempt to blame
Esther for her part in this escapade, Polly had determined that they
should understand the situation in its true light. And some day she
might be able to return Esther's allegiance and devotion. For always
the opportunity to serve a friend will come if one is sufficiently on
the lookout for it.
The moment that she left her dressing room Polly ran directly into
Esther, who was hurrying toward her.
"Oh, Polly dear," she said, "I hope you haven't been worried, though I
have been uneasy enough about you. Do come back into your room for a
moment. There is something I want to tell you that no one else must
hear."
Esther looked so excited and nervous that Polly slipped an arm
comfortingly about her. "Don't mind if anybody has said anything rude
or been horrid, please," she whispered. "You know we promised each
other not to take the disagreeable things seriously."
"Oh no, it is nothing like that. It is about you," the older girl
explained.
Polly smiled. "The disagreeable things usually are about me." She
looked so absurdly young and wilful and charming that Esther felt
herself suddenly willing to champion her cause against any opposition.
Of course Polly had done wrong, but the mistake had been made and to
frustrate her ambition now could do no possible good.
"I don't think you understand, Polly; you can't of course. But Billy
Webster was in the audience just now and recognized you. He says that
Mollie was afraid there was something the matter and----"
"Billy Webster's opinions are not of the least interest to me. Do
let's hurry home, Esther. It is almost ten o'clock and though we can
take the street car straight to your door, we have never been out this
late before."
"But Billy says he _must_ see you. He is waiting outside. He says he
means to tell your mother and Mollie what you are doing unless you
promise to return home tomorrow. He says that if you won't promise he
may telegraph them tonight, so your mother can come and get you
tomorrow. I think you had better see him."
Suddenly Polly flung her arms about her friend's neck and began crying
like a disappointed child. One never could count on Polly's doing what
might be expected of her. She had had the boldness of defy opposition
and to act successfully for a week on the professional stage; yet now
when she most needed her nerve she was breaking down completely.
"I always have hated that Billy Webster," she sobbed, "from the first
moment I saw him. What possible reason or right can he have to come
spying on me in this fashion? If he tells mother what I am doing now
and does not give me a chance to confess, she will never forgive me.
Neither will Mollie nor Betty nor any of the people I care about. Rose
and Miss McMurtry will never speak to me. I shall be turned out of our
Camp Fire Club. Of course I know I deserve it. But that Billy Webster
should be the person to bring about my punishment is too much!
Besides, I can't give up my part now. Surely, Esther, you can see
that. Acting a week longer won't hurt me any more and----"
"I think we had better see Mr. Webster, anyhow, dear," Esther insisted
quietly. "Perhaps we can persuade him not to tell, or else to give you
the first opportunity."
Hastily Polly dried her eyes. She looked very white and frail as they
went out of the room together.
In a secluded corner not far from the stage door they found Billy
Webster waiting for them. His face was pale under his country tan.
His blue eyes, that sometimes were charmingly humorous, showed no sign
of humor now. If ever there was so youthful a figure of a stern and
upright judge, he might well have stood for the model.
Polly struggled bravely to maintain her dignity.
"What is your decision, Miss O'Neill?" he inquired, without wasting any
time by an enforced greeting. "I presume Miss Crippen has told you
what I have made up my mind to do."
Amiability was one of Esther's dominant traits of character; yet she
would have liked to shake Billy Webster until his teeth chattered or
suppress him in almost any way. After all, what right had he to take
this lofty tone with Polly? He was not a member of her family, not
even her friend. Just because he had known all of them in their Camp
Fire days in the woods and was devoted to Mrs. Wharton and to Mollie
was not a sufficient excuse.
Therefore Polly's unexpected meekness of manner and tone was the more
surprising--and dangerous.
"How did you happen to come to New York and to the theater, Billy?" she
queried, ignoring his use of the "Miss." Frequently in times past they
had called each other by their first names, when good feeling happened
to be existing between them.
Instantly Billy looked a little more on the defensive. "I--I had to
come to New York on business," he explained sullenly. "And Mollie had
been telling me that she was kind of uneasy about you and that she felt
there must be some reason you wouldn't give why you did not wish to
come home for the holidays."
"So you undertook to play detective and find out?" Polly announced in
the cool, even tones that made Billy hot with anger and a sense of
injustice.
He was perfectly sure that he was right in his attitude toward her.
She had been disobedient and audacious beyond his wildest conception,
even of her. And yet she had a skilful fashion of making the other
fellow appear in the wrong.
"I told Mollie that I would call on you and Esther," he returned,
relapsing into his old-time familiarity. "You see, I told her that I
was sure things were quite all right, but I wanted to convince her too.
I didn't think you would mind seeing me. I thought you might even be
glad to hear about your Woodford friends. So as Mollie gave me your
address, I went out to your house at about eight o'clock. The maid
told me that you had gone to the theater, told me which one. Of course
I just supposed that you had gone to see a show. And that was pretty
bad for two young girls! But when I got here and the curtain went up
and you came out!--why, Polly, I just couldn't believe it at first, and
then I got to thinking of how your mother and Mollie would feel and
what might happen!" And Billy's voice shook in a very human and
attractive fashion.
Instantly Polly's hand was laid coaxingly on the young man's coat
sleeve. "But, Billy, seeing as now I have been and gone and done it
already, why, think of me in any way that you please. Only don't tell
on me for another week. The play is to last only through the holidays.
And I promise on my word of honor to come home as soon as it is over
and to tell mother every single thing."
"Word of honor?" Billy repeated slightingly. And of course, though
Polly deserved her punishment his inflection was both rude and cruel.
Up to this moment the little party of three persons had been entirely
uninterrupted. Now Esther heard some one coming quickly toward them.
And turning instantly she understood the impression that this scene
might make. The man was the leading actor of the company, Richard
Hunt, who in a quiet way had shown an interest and an attitude of
protection toward Polly. Now observing a strange young man, and
Polly's evident agitation, it was but natural that he should suppose
that some one was trying to annoy her.
Esther flung herself into the breach. Not for anything must a scene be
permitted to take place! And she could guess at Billy Webster's
scornful disregard of a man who was an actor. Billy was a country
fellow with little experience of life, and broad-mindedness was not a
conspicuous trait of his character.
Esther never knew just exactly how she managed it, but in another
moment she had confided the entire story of Polly's audacity to Mr.
Hunt, Billy Webster's place in it, and his present intention of
bringing retribution upon them. She knew there was but little time for
her story; for Mr. Hunt might be compelled to leave them on receiving
his curtain call at any moment. In a very surprising and good-humored
fashion however he seemed to understand the situation at once.
"I had an idea that Miss O'Neill was new to this business," he said;
"or you would both have realized that it is not wise for a girl so
young as she is to come to the theater without her mother or some much
older woman to look after her. But I believe I can appreciate
everybody's point of view in this matter. So why wouldn't it be well
to have Miss O'Neill telegraph her mother herself and ask that she come
down to New York tomorrow. She could say there was nothing serious, so
as not to frighten her. And then of course they could talk things over
together and decide what was best without any interference."
But before any answer could follow his suggestion a bell sounded and
the older man was obliged to hurry away.
Esther breathed a sigh of relief.
"Dear me, why had not one of us thought of this way out?" she asked.
"Surely, Billy, you can't object to allowing Mrs. Wharton to be the
judge in this matter?"
Billy nodded. "Of course that is the best plan."
"And you, Polly?"
Polly had begun to cry again. "I want to see my mother right this
minute," she confessed. And then, slipping out of the stage door, she
left Esther and Billy to follow immediately after her and in silence to
escort her safely home.