Part 63 (1/2)
The next day was full of surprises for them both. They were entirely ignorant of conditions in and about the theatre. The big, dark house, with its seats all swathed in linen covers, the empty, barn-like stage, with chairs set about to indicate properties; the stage hands coming and going, the stage manager shouting directions--it was all new to them.
The members of the company were as businesslike as bank clerks. No hint of illusion, no sc.r.a.p of romance!
”Mercy! it's like a ghost house,” said Bambi.
A deal table was set at one side, down stage, for the Jocelyns, with two scripts of the play. They sat down like frightened school children, bewildered as to what would be expected of them.
The actors sat in a row of chairs at one side. The stage manager made some explanations and remarks about rehearsals, and then the first act was called. It was slow and tedious work. Over and over again the scenes were tried. Some of the actors fumbled their lines as if they had never read English before. Now and then the manager appealed to the authors for the reading of a line, or an intonation, and Bambi always answered.
At the end of one scene the man who was to play the young musician came to them.
”I've been thinking over my part, Mrs. Jocelyn, and I think that if you could write in a scene right here, in act first, to let me explain to the old fiddler my reason for being in this situation----”
”Oh, no, you mustn't explain. The whole point of the first act is that you explain nothing.”
”Yes, but it would play better,” he began, in the patronizing tone always used to newcomers in the theatre.
”I can't help that. I cannot spoil the truth of a whole character, even if it does play better,” said Bambi, smiling sweetly.
The actor took it up with the stage manager after rehearsal, and was referred to the authors.
”These new playwrights always have to learn at our expense,” he said, importantly.
”Can't be helped. We have to use playwrights, however irritating they are,” remarked the stage manager.
Day after day they a.s.sembled at the same hour and slowly built up the structure of the play. Many nights Jarvis and Bambi worked on new scenes, or the rearrangement of the old ones. The first act was twisted about many times before it ”played” to the stage manager's satisfaction.
New lines had to be introduced, new business worked out every day. It was hard work for everybody except Bambi, and she declared it was fun.
No matter how trying the rehearsals, nor how hard she had to work, she enjoyed every minute of it. They soon discovered that Jarvis had no talent for rehearsing. In fact, the mechanics of the thing bored him.
When a new scene was demanded quickly, his mind refused to work. It was Bambi's quick wits that saved the day. After the first few days she was the only one to be consulted and appealed to by everybody.
”I can't see that you need me at all in this business. I'm no good at it.”
”Yes, you are, too. You saw where that new scene in the third act belonged at once.”
”Yes, after you wrote the scene.”
”But this is why we need each other. I didn't see where the scene belonged at all. If we both could do the same thing, we wouldn't need to collaborate. Thank heaven, we don't have the author underfoot interfering all the time.”
”I don't believe she would interfere.”
”Heard anything from her, lately?”
”No, she is waiting for the production, I suppose.”
”And then the deluge! I may lose you to that story-writing female yet!”
she teased him.
”Don't!” he protested, quickly.
”I won't,” she retorted, meaningly.