introduced Miss Thackery, and Miss Whately said, “Listen, ladies, if you’re planning to go to the theater, I can get you a deal on your tickets—same as I did for your aunt, Miss Irving. You’d ought to have seen The Provok’d Husband. I played Lady Wronghead. They wanted me to play Lady Wronghead’s daughter, because of my youth, you know, but it’s a minor role. I had some wonderful scenes with Count Basset. Dee Maitland played the count. He’s a wonderful actor.”
“Is it still playing?” I asked, with some interest.
“Lud no. That was last winter.”
“What part are you playing at the moment, Miss Whately?” Miss Thackery asked.
“I’m at liberty just now, resting up after a very busy season. Parts are harder to come by since they got the new manager over to Drury Lane—Mr. Baker. He’s got them all playing double roles for single pay! Tight as a fiddle string! Ask anyone. Baker wouldn’t give you a sneeze if he had the flu. He wants me for The Provok’d Wife— it’s like a companion piece to The Provok’d Husband. Vanbrugh is a wonderful dramatist.”
“I thought perhaps you were on your way to the theater,” Miss Thackery said, looking in confusion at the woman’s costume.
“What? This old thing?” Miss Whately asked, and laughed a beautiful silvery laugh. “Lud, Miss Thack’ry, I wouldn’t be caught dead on the stage in this old rag. No, Colonel Stone is taking me out to dinner tonight. He has been giving me a hurl in his carriage for a few weeks now. He’s an old scarecrow, but a lady has got to eat, hasn’t she? And there is no vice in him. He is well past it.”
I blinked in astonishment at this plain speaking. To cover the stretching silence I said, “Did you happen to see the notice on the bulletin board, Miss Whately?”
“Not an increase in our rents!” she exclaimed.
“No, it is about furniture for the flats.”
“Oh, lud, it’s about that chair, ain’t it? It was Sharkey who busted it, miss. If you’re taking to charging us for busted furnishings, it’s Sharkey you want to get after.”
Miss Thackery handed her a slip of paper. “This is the notice,” she said. She had apparently made a few efforts before being satisfied with her work and gave Miss Whately one of the rejects.
Miss Whately frowned at it for a moment. “Would you mind reading it for me, Miss Thack’ry. I’ve left my specs upstairs.”
The white of her cheeks surrounding the rouge spots disappeared. It had turned as pink as the rouge, and I was struck with the idea that she could not read. How on earth did she learn her lines?
“The announcement says that I wish to be rid of the excess furnishings and invites the tenants to help themselves,” I explained.
“I could use a decent dresser and an extra couple of chairs,” she said, frowning. “How much are you charging?”
‘There is no cost,” I said. “The furniture is not needed here. It is only on loan. I will expect it to be left behind when the tenants leave.”
“You mean it’s free?” she said, her eyes bulging in disbelief. She leapt from the chair and darted to the edge of the room. “What are these little white bits of paper?”
“Those are the pieces I wish to have removed.”
“I’ll take this one,” she said, snatching a little chest from the pile. “Just what I need to hold my dainties. And a dresser, as I said, and half a dozen chairs. Say, you wouldn’t have scrap of carpet, would you?”
I looked at the three under our feet. One was all the saloon required. “After the furnishings are removed, we shall see what we have here,” I told her.
“I’ll have Jack stay and give me a hand moving the stuff upstairs. That’s Colonel Stone. On t’other hand, I don’t want him to stick his fork in the wall before he buys me dinner. Can you just put my name on these pieces—and hold a slice of carpet for me, Miss Irving?”
“Yes, we can do that,” I agreed.
The front door opened, and a shuffling
“Is it still playing?” I asked, with some interest.
“Lud no. That was last winter.”
“What part are you playing at the moment, Miss Whately?” Miss Thackery asked.
“I’m at liberty just now, resting up after a very busy season. Parts are harder to come by since they got the new manager over to Drury Lane—Mr. Baker. He’s got them all playing double roles for single pay! Tight as a fiddle string! Ask anyone. Baker wouldn’t give you a sneeze if he had the flu. He wants me for The Provok’d Wife— it’s like a companion piece to The Provok’d Husband. Vanbrugh is a wonderful dramatist.”
“I thought perhaps you were on your way to the theater,” Miss Thackery said, looking in confusion at the woman’s costume.
“What? This old thing?” Miss Whately asked, and laughed a beautiful silvery laugh. “Lud, Miss Thack’ry, I wouldn’t be caught dead on the stage in this old rag. No, Colonel Stone is taking me out to dinner tonight. He has been giving me a hurl in his carriage for a few weeks now. He’s an old scarecrow, but a lady has got to eat, hasn’t she? And there is no vice in him. He is well past it.”
I blinked in astonishment at this plain speaking. To cover the stretching silence I said, “Did you happen to see the notice on the bulletin board, Miss Whately?”
“Not an increase in our rents!” she exclaimed.
“No, it is about furniture for the flats.”
“Oh, lud, it’s about that chair, ain’t it? It was Sharkey who busted it, miss. If you’re taking to charging us for busted furnishings, it’s Sharkey you want to get after.”
Miss Thackery handed her a slip of paper. “This is the notice,” she said. She had apparently made a few efforts before being satisfied with her work and gave Miss Whately one of the rejects.
Miss Whately frowned at it for a moment. “Would you mind reading it for me, Miss Thack’ry. I’ve left my specs upstairs.”
The white of her cheeks surrounding the rouge spots disappeared. It had turned as pink as the rouge, and I was struck with the idea that she could not read. How on earth did she learn her lines?
“The announcement says that I wish to be rid of the excess furnishings and invites the tenants to help themselves,” I explained.
“I could use a decent dresser and an extra couple of chairs,” she said, frowning. “How much are you charging?”
‘There is no cost,” I said. “The furniture is not needed here. It is only on loan. I will expect it to be left behind when the tenants leave.”
“You mean it’s free?” she said, her eyes bulging in disbelief. She leapt from the chair and darted to the edge of the room. “What are these little white bits of paper?”
“Those are the pieces I wish to have removed.”
“I’ll take this one,” she said, snatching a little chest from the pile. “Just what I need to hold my dainties. And a dresser, as I said, and half a dozen chairs. Say, you wouldn’t have scrap of carpet, would you?”
I looked at the three under our feet. One was all the saloon required. “After the furnishings are removed, we shall see what we have here,” I told her.
“I’ll have Jack stay and give me a hand moving the stuff upstairs. That’s Colonel Stone. On t’other hand, I don’t want him to stick his fork in the wall before he buys me dinner. Can you just put my name on these pieces—and hold a slice of carpet for me, Miss Irving?”
“Yes, we can do that,” I agreed.
The front door opened, and a shuffling
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