Doris Marlowe. Or "A WOMAN'S SOUL."

Auckland Star, Volume XXXIV, Issue 166, 14 July 1903, Page 6

Doris Marlowe. Or "A WOMAN'S SOUL."

I By CHARLES GARVICE - ; ' _I I \ I Author of" Leola Dale's Fortune," " ThoMarquis," " Lorrie, or Hollow Gold," (I \ J Etc., Etc. »_jj -HSB .»-»-» __^__-^----------~-~~-.— —«——— — ■ _r n r-»- CT r-r,.,»i-r.^------~»-^-..^.~----to."- J^

■ ~' CHAPTER V. AN IDEAL JULIET. The hour was approaching. Doris, Btill in her hat and jacket, sat in the tiny apartment behind the stage which served as her dressing room. She was paler than usual, and her eyes looked of a deeper and darker blue than usual; but she was calm, with a calm which Jeffrey could not attain to. With his hands folded behind him, his head bent upon his breast—his favourite attitude—he paced up and down the narrow limits of the room, like a tiger in its cage, waiting for his supper. '•'Will the house be full, Jeffrey?" asked Doris, presently. "Yes," he replied. "The pit and gallery are full now. They were waiting at the doors as early as six o'clock. They are not fools, these Barton people. In some places you would be sure of playing 'Romeo and Juliet' to empty benches, but not here. It is a flourishing place, and they are intelligent and educated. They have a theatre they may be proud of, and they are proud of it. In some towns the theatre is a neglected barn, and when that is so you may take it that fiie people are uncultivated and barbaric. Yes-you will have a fair and patient hearing. 1 knew that when I chose Barton for the scene of your great trial In London there are so many new Juliets that the critics and the audience have got incredulous and suspicious —they have seen so many failures that they go prepared for disappointment. Here it will be different. They love Shakspere, they know you, they will hope for the best, and you will not disappoint them/ and his eyes glittered down upon her. Doris smiled. "Perhaps they will hiss me oft che stage!" she said, but she did not say it very fearfully. . . He shook his head and went on m nis monotonous pacing, and presently a familiar sound struck his ear. '•The curtain is up for the farce, he said. "You had better begin to dress. Is there anything I can do—anything I can suggest—anything you would like to ask me?" he inquired, with his long, thin fingers on the handle of the door. Doris shook her head. "No, Jeffrey, dear; I don't know oi anything, unless you would get into my skin and play Juliet instead of me." "You are not nervous?" he asked. "Not a bit," she answered, "and that is strange isn't it? No, I feel as calm and as easy as if I were going to play a waiting maid's part; but I shall be all on the quiver when I am standing at the wings, ready to go on." He nodded, as if he understood, and ■went out, sending her dresser to her. Doris dressed quietly and slowly. Jeffrey had imposed upon her the importance of avoiding all hurry just before her appearance, and she had finished and was sitting before the glass, not lookiEg at herself, but musing, as it seemed, when he came in again. "Dressed? That is right! The house is crammed! The manager says it ia the best house he has had since Mr Irving was here. The boxes look like Lonboxes, people in evening* dress, and ladies with llowers." He stood in front of her, and scanned her dress and get-up keenly. The dress was of white satin, made quite plainly, with a long train, its only ornament a row of pearls, which were not stage jewels, but real, and of great value, and a present from Jeffrey himself. Her dark hair, looking black by the light, fell round her exquisitelyshaped face like a frame, and, caught up by a white ribbon behind, swept in curving tresses to her shoulders. The faint touch of rouge — every actress must rouge, whether she likes it or not —gave the intense blue eye 3 an added depth and brilliance, which the long dark lashes veiled now and again, but to rise and render the brilliance and colour more marked by their temporary concealment. It was not his way to praise her beauty, but as he turned away he muttered something that' sounded like approval. "Did you see anyone you know; in front, Jeffrey?" she asked. "No," he said, almost impatiently. "1 know no one! I suppose all the people in the boxes are county peoj}le, I do not know! I only care for the pit and gallery; it is from them you must get your verdict, the boxes and stalls will follow suit." "Poor county people!" she said, with a smile, but absently. "Of what are you thinking—the third scene?" he asked. Doris started, and the natural colour forced its way through the powder and rouge. She was not thinking of Ptomeo and Juliet at all, tut of the handsome face that lay in her lap yesterday afternoon, of the young fellow whose name was Cecil Neville. "I—l don't know," she said, faltering a little. "I think I was dreaming, Jeffrey." "Then you must wake up," he retorted firmly, but not unkindly. "I heard the curtain go down on the farce. Wil. you have a glass of wine?" She shook her head, and looked ai him with smiling surprise. "And you, who are always preaching against it!" she said. "I know," he admitted; "but to night " The manager knocked at the door He was a keen business man, just and not ungenerous, and he nodded anc smiled at the beautiful vision admiring Iy and encouragingly.

'•Beautiful house, Miss Marlowe," he j said, "and in the very best of tempers; i a child might play with them to-inglit-' | "Ah, it is only' a child who is g^> in S \ to play to them,"ill- Brown!" said Doris. ; He laughed approvingly. "By George, that's good! I must re- ! member that. How do you feel?" j ! "Frightened out of my life!" f- a I I Doris. "Do not be surprised if T for-I I got my part, and am hissed oil'!" but i her smile belied her words. i "If you arc I'll close the theatre and I take to—market gardening!" retorted : the mar.; 1 α-cr. - "Let her alone! Tdo not want her to Italic!" growled Jeffrey, and Mr Jliwn, I shrugging his shoulders and ma king a grimace behind the bent back, glanced lat his wateli nnd hurried off, paying: ! "Ten minutes, 3J?.=3 Marlowe!" "Ten niinrtes!" said Doris, dreamily. 1 "Leave mo now, Jeffrey, dear." He kid his hand on her shovV.-v and looked down at her with a world of wistful tenderness and pride and loving | ! anxiety. "Do your best. Doris!" lie snid. "I will, for your sake, Jeffrey!" she ! responded, touching his hand caress- ■ ingly. "No. for your nrt's." lie snid. gravely. '•I shall beat the wings." Now that plie was loft alone. Doris j tried to concentrate her thought upon jtlie coming ordenl; bnt she could rot ; Each time plip tried to picture herself xipon the stage pud sneaking the H-ins ' pet down for Juliet, the voice of Cecil 1 Neville rang in her ems. nnd with n low 1 cry, almost of alarm, she put her hands jto her head. "Ah, that's stn-re frisrht!" eiitl the dresser. "I know what it is, miss; I've j had it myself, in my old j acting days. ' Dnt it will pass '' off directly' you fnee the hmipc. de-. [pond upon it. Don't yon be nfraid nnd jnervous; for. 3P~=; Mnrlnwe. I've heard ■ I that the xc:y {\v*t acMrs feel li' c that, j some of them every night, too!" j Doris laughed poHIt. "Do they, 3Tr? Pnrkhoupn?" pho paid. /'Then there i- hope for me. Thoro is ! the overture over. Not, many minutes j no'vv: the curtain 5s up!" i She bent her head upon her hands and I forced herself to Ihink of (lie scene that was at that moment being phiycd. to I think of the good-looking young fellow —a great Barton favourite —v.-'i.. was playing Komeo; but marvel of marvels, instead of bis face, which she knew so 'well, there rose before her, as llomeo, the face over which she had bent yester- ; day. j "Ah, it is no use, no use!' , she cried, J springing- up. J "Oh, don't say that, miss!" soi.l Mrs j iParkhouse, who had been watching her j ; with respectful anxiety. "I'm suriv— i we're all of us sure and certain that it I will be a success. It will all go right ; directly you get on to the stage." "Do you think so?" said Doris, with n curious" smile. "I hope so—ah, I hope . so; if not—" "Juliet!" shouted the call boy; and leaving her sentence unfinished, Doris caught up her train and went to the wings. (To be continued daily.) • j I 1 1 I