Part 50 (1/2)
”Did you have a successful trip?” inquired her father.
”I did, very.”
”How did you find Babylon?”
”As Babylonish as ever.”
She seemed strangely disinclined for conversation, so her wise parent left her to her meditations and her breakfast. But he patted her as he pa.s.sed to go out.
”We're glad to have you back, my daughter.”
She brushed his cheek with her lips, understandingly.
XXI
”G.o.d's in his heaven! All's right with the world!” carrolled Bambi gayly the next day.
She wrote Mr. Strong of her interview with Mr. Frohman and its happy outcome. It gave her some satisfaction to announce that the manager was willing to entrust Jarvis with the play. She explained that she was obliged to come home on the night train, so she had missed the pleasure of seeing him. Would he see that Mr. Frohman had the first bound copy of the book?
She added that she was happy, but it was superfluous. It sang itself through the note, so that Strong patted the paper, as he finished it, as if it were a personal belonging of the sender.
The letter finished, she mounted the stairs to Jarvis's house, as she always called the top floor. She wandered about, comparing it with that place of confinement where he now dwelt. To-day he would write or telegraph to her his news, if he had the interview with Frohman.
She began work on the play, up in his study. She outlined the main plot, marked scenes in the book she thought vital, sc.r.a.ps of conversation which would be effective. She planned the sets for the different acts, even deciding upon Francesca's clothes. Ever and anon, in the midst of her happy scheming, she fell to dreaming of the days to come, with Jarvis home again, and their work together resumed.
Whenever the doorbell rang she stopped and waited for Ardelia's heavy foot upon the stairs as she toiled up with the telegram or special delivery. But the morning pa.s.sed, plus half the afternoon, with no word from him. She went down to the post-office herself in the hope that the late mail would reward her. There was nothing for her.
The next day brought only a note from Strong congratulating her enthusiastically, and prophesying a great success for the Jocelyn family. She spent a restless day waiting for the postman, afraid to leave the house for fear she would miss a wire. She grew so nervous that she scolded Ardelia and fussed at the Professor. Night found her entirely discouraged. Something had happened. Frohman had changed his mind, or Jarvis had refused. She had known all along that it was too good to be true. She tossed all night, sleepless, her mind running around like a squirrel in a trap, planning another trip to see the manager.
The early morning found her pacing the paths of the frostbitten garden, where the Professor found her later.
”Why, good morning, Bambi mia,” said he, in surprise.
”Good day, Herr Vater!”
”What brings you forth so early, lady-bird?”
”My hateful thoughts! Oh, daddy, there's a crick in the secret.”
”A crick? Dear me, what a pity!”
”If it doesn't get itself straightened out to-day, I shall go to New York again, to see what I can do.”
”The companions.h.i.+p of a secret is often corruptive to good habits, such as sleep and appet.i.te. Better tell me this mystery.”
”If it isn't settled to-day, I will tell you.”
”Very good.”
”These late asters are hardy things?”