They lost no time in getting to work. First they went to Henrietta
Street and called upon Allardyce, Inc. Taking wise men into their
counsels, they started to plan a campaign whose aim was the making of
Elmer Pell Dobree a household name in Britain. They infected Allardyce,
Inc., with their own enthusiasm; not perhaps such a difficult process.
Every mail was bringing news of breaking records across the water.
_Prairie City_ was the best in its kind since Mark Twain. Indeed some
of the highbrows thought really and truly it was better.
The publishers were taken with Mame. All the natural zip of the
booster-born sprang to the surface as she lightly gave off her ideas
for the big drum. Very bright some of these ideas were. There was one
in particular which appealed to these shrewd men. Unfortunately, to
carry it out would cost money. But as smart Miss Amethyst Du Rance, a
writer herself, by the way, declared, quoting from a favourite calendar
that had once adorned the wall at the back of her typewriter in that
identical office which soon would be famous over the breadth of two
continents, If you want to make Omelettes you’ve got to break Eggs.
This boom was going to cost money. No use burking that fact in
political economy. But it was going to be worth it. Lady Violet
Treherne--that very distinguished-looking girl who had accompanied the
corking little Miss Du Rance into the back parlour: Celimene, by the
way, of the _Morning News_--was of that opinion, too. _Prairie City_
was the goods. It was the big stuff. Every dime spent on boosting it
would earn a dollar.
Allardyce, Inc., of the Allardyce Building, East Forty-ninth Street,
New York City, U.S.A., and 1-a Henrietta Street, London, England,
not to mention 16 Rue de la Paix, Paris, France; 39 Stratton Street,
Johannesburg, S.A., and 105 Victoria Avenue, Melbourne, Australia; in
short, wherever the honest mother tongue is spoken, Allardyce, Inc.,
decided to fall for Miss Du Rance and her little campaign. Still it was
going to cost money.
“It’ll be worth it all the time.” The air of Miss Du Rance was already
victorious. “You do your bit and we’ll do ours. That’s all we ask.”
The head of the London branch of the well-known firm personally bowed
the two ladies into their taxi. He had not been so impressed in years.
Full of vim this Miss Du Rance. Portentously full of pep. No wonder
they made good in cradle-rocking Britain, when they came over, these
one-hundred-per-cent little ladies from the U.S. And the cunning minx
kept back a few grains of the pep for her final shot. As she offered a
hand in parting, at its most fashionable angle, to Allardyce, Inc., she
said in her new and careful Mayfair manner: “When Elmer Pell Dobree
arrives in this country, Lady Violet Treherne will give a luncheon for
him at the Savoy Hotel. All the most worth-while folks in London will
be invited to meet him. I tell you, sir, although you mustn’t tell the
world just now, she has already arranged with her friend the Prime
Minister, if he happens to be disengaged at the mo-ment, to attend
the gathering and to give an ad-dress on the Value of Literary Art in
International Relations.”
* * * * *
They left Allardyce, Inc., balanced on the extreme edge of the kerb of
Henrietta Street, staring after their departing chariot. As they drove
off to luncheon at the Ladies Imperium, Lady Violet said, “My child, I
rather think you’ve clicked.”
Mame felt rather that she had. The happy feeling was confirmed,
moreover, a little later in the week when a second letter from Elmer
P. was delivered in Half Moon Street. In it, that now famous man
positively undertook to be at the Savoy Hotel on February 10, always
providing the _Olympic_ in which he had booked a passage came in on
time. He hoped to stay a fortnight in London. But that, he feared, must
be his limit. For just now he was living a forty-eight-hour day in New
York.
“You can bet your life that’s so,” was Mame’s approving comment.