The Other Romilly

Star (Christchurch), Issue 12289, 11 April 1918, Page 8

The Other Romilly

CHAPTER VII. Something of his overnight’s optimism remained with Philip when, at eleven o’clock on the following morning, he was ushered into Elizabeth’s rooms. It was a frame, of mind, however, which did not long survive his reception. From the moment of his arrival, he seemed to detect a different atmosphere in his surroundings—the demeanour of Phoebe, his staunch ally, who admitted him without her usual welcoming smile; the unanalysable sense of something wanting in the dainty little room, over-filled with, strong-smelling, hothouse flowers; in the entrance and welcome of Elizabeth herself. His eyes had ached for the sight of her. He was so sure that he wo’uld know everything the moment she spoke. _ Yet her coming brought only confusion to his senses. She was different—unexpectedly, bewilderingly different. She had lost that delicate serenity of manner, that almost protective affection which he had grown to lean upon and expect. She entered dressed for the street, smoking a cigarette, which was in itself unusual, with dark rings under her eyes, which seemed to be looking all around the room) on some pretext or other, but never at him, “Am I late?” she asked, a little breathlessly. “I am so sorry. Tell me, have you anything particular to do?” “Nothing,” she answered. “I want to go out of the city—into the country, at once,” she told him feverishly. “The car is waiting. I ordered it for a quarter to eleven. Let us start.” “Of course, if you wish it,” he assented. He opened the door, but before she passed through he leaned towards her. She shook her head. His heart sank. AVliai could there be more ominous than this I “I am not well,” she muttered. “Don’t take any notice of anything I say or do for a little time. • I am like this sometimes—temperamental, I suppose. All great actresses arc temperamental. I suppose lam a great actress. Do you think I am, Philip?" He was following her downstairs now. He found it hard, however, to imitate the flippancy of her tone. “The critics insist upon it,” hje l observed drily. “Evidently your audience Last night shared their opinion.” She nodded. “ I love them to applaud like that, and yet—audiences don’t really know, do they? Perhaps ...” She relapsed into silence and they took their places in the car. She settled herself down with a little sigli of content and drew the rug over her. “As far as you can go, John.” she told the man, “ but you must get hack at six o’clock. The country, mind—not the shore.” They started off, “So you were there last night?" she murmured, leaning back amongst the cushions with an air of relief. “I was there for a few moments. I wrote my note to you in the box office.” She shook the memory away. “And afterwards?” “ I went to one of the clubs down town.” “What did you do there?” she inquired. “Gossip?” “Some of the men were very kind te me,” he said. “I bad supper with Noel Bridges, amongst others.” “ Well?” she asked, almost ly“l don’t understand.” She looked intently at him for a moment. “ t forgot,” she went on. “ You are very chivalrous, aren't you? You wouldn’t ask questions. See, I am going to close, my eyes. It is too horrible here, and all through Brooklyn. When we_a.ro in the lanes I'can talk. This is just one of those days I wish that we were in England. All our country is either suburban or too wild and restless. Can_ you be content with silence for a little time?” “Of course," ho assured her. “Besides, you forget that. 1 am in a strange country. Everything is worth watching.” They passed over Brooklyn Bridge, and for an hour or more they made slow progress through the wide-flung environs of the city. At last, however, the endless succession of factories and small tenement dwellings lay behind them. They passed houses with real gardens, through stretches of wood whose leaves were opening, whose branches were tilled with sweet-smelling sap of springtime. Elizabeth seemed to wake almost automatically from a kind of stupor. She pushed back her veil, and Philip, stealing eager glances towards Tier, was almost startled by some indefinable change. Her face seemed more delicate, almost the taco of an. invalid, as she lay back there with halfclosed eyes. The strength of her mouth seemed to have, dissolved and its sweetness had become almost pathetic. There were signs of a. great, weariness about her. The fingers which reached out for the little speaking-tube seemed to have become, thinner. “Take the turn to the left, John," she instructed, “ the one to Bay Shore.

By EL PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM. Author of “ The Hillman,” “A Man and His Kingdom,” “ The Mysterious Mr. Sabin,” Ac-,

ALL RIGHTS EESEEWD,

Go slowly by the lake and stop where 1 tell you.” They left the main road and travelled for some distance along a lane which, with its bramble-grown fences and meadows beyond, was curiously reminiscent of England. They passed a country bouse, built of tho wood which was still a little unfamiliar to Philip, but wonderfully horac-like with its cluster of outbuildings, its trim lawns, and the turret clock over the stable entrance. Then, through the leaves of an avenue of elms they caught occasional glimpses of the blue waters of_ the lake, which they presently skirted. Elizabeth’s eyes travelled over its placid surface idly, yet with a sense of passive satisfaction. In a few minutes they passed into the heart of a little wood, and she leaned forward. “ Stop here, close to tho side of the road, John. Stop your engine, please, and go and sit by the'lake.” The man obeyed at once with the unquestioning readiness of one used to his mistress’s whims. For several minutes she remained silent. She had t he air of one drinking in with almost passionate eagerness the sedative effect of the stillness, the soft spring air, the musical country sounds, the ripple- of the breeze in the trees, the humming of insects, the soft splash of the lake against tho stony shore. Philip himself was awakened into a peculiar sense of pleasure by this, almost his first glimpse of the country since bis arrival in New York. A host of half-forgot-ten sensations warmed his heart. He felt suddenly intensely sympathetic, perhaps more genuinely tender than he had ever felt before towards the woman by his side, whose hour of suffering it was. His baud slipped under the rug and held her fingers, which clutched his in instantaneous response. Her lips seemed unlocked by his slight action. “I came here alone two years ago,” she told him, “and since, then often, sometimes to study a difficult part, sometimes only to think. One moment,” She released her fingers from his, drew out the hatpins from her hat, unwound the veil and threw them both on to the opposite seat. Then she laid her hands upon her forehead, as though to cool it. Tile little breeze from the lake rippled through her hair, bringing them every now and then faint whiffs of perfume from the bordering gardens. “There!” she exclaimed, with a little murmur of content. “That’s a man’s action, isn’t it? Now I think I am getting brave, t have something to say to you, Philip.” He' felt her fingers seeking his again and held them tightly. It was curious how, in that moment of crisis, his thoughts seemed to wander awav. He was watching the little flecks of gold in her hair, wondering if he had ever properly appreciated the beautiful curve of her neck. Even her voice seemed somehow attuned to the melody of their surroundings, the confused song of birds, the sighing of-the lake, the passing of the west wind through the trees and shrubs around. “ Philip," she began, clinging closely te him, “I have brought you hero to tell you a story which perhaps you will think, when you have heard it, might better have been told in my dressingroom. YVcll, I couldn't. Besides, I wanted to got away. It is about Sylvanus Power.” He sat a little more upright. His nerves were tingling now ■ with eagerness. “ Yes?” “ I met him,” she continued, “eight years ago, out West, when I was in a travelling show. I accepted his attentions at first carelessly enough. I did not realise the sort of man he wag. He was a. great personage even in those days, and I suppose my head was a little turned. Then he began to follow us everywhere. There was a scandal, of course. Tn the end 1 left the company and came to New Y’ork. He went to China, where he has always had large interests. When I heard that he had tailed—] remember reading it in the paper—l could have sobbed with joy.” Philip moved a little uneasily in his place. Koine instinct told him, however, how greatly she desired his silenco - that she wanted to tell her story her own way. “ rhen lollowed thi'ee miserable years, during whirl) I saw little of him. J; knew that, 1 had talent I was always sure of making a living, but, I got no further. 11. didn't, seem possible, to get, any further. Nothing that f could do nr say seemed able, to procure forme an engagement in New Y’ork. Think of me. for a. moment now, Philip, as a woman absolutely and entirely devoted to her work. 1 loved it. It absorbed all my thoughts. It was just the one tiling in -lile I eared anything about. T simply ached to get, at Now Y’ork, and I couldn't. All the, time I had to play on tour, and von won't, quite understand tliis, dear, but there is nothing so wearing in life ns for anyone with niy cravings for recognition to he always playing to provincials.” ■She paused for a few minutes. Tlicre was a loud (wittering of birds. A rabbit. who had stolen carefully through the undergrowth scurried away, A

oar had come through the wood and swept past them, bringing with it some vague sense of disturbance. It was some little time before she settled down again to her story. “At the end of those three years,” she went on, “ Sylvan'us Power had become richer, stronger, more masterful than ever. I was beginning to lose heart. He was clever. He studied my every weakness. He knew quite well that with me there was only one way, and he laid his schemes with regard to me just in the same fashion a.s he schemed to be a conqueror of men, to build up those millions. Wo wore playing near New York, and one day ho asked mo to motor in there and lunch with him. I accepted. It was in .the springtime, almost on such'a day as> this. Wo motored up in one of hid wonderful cars. Wo lunched—l remember how shabby I felt—at the best restaurant in New York, whore 1 was waited upon like a queen. Somehow or other, tJto man had always the knack of making himself felt wherever lie went. ‘He strode the very streets of New York like one of its masters, and the people seemed to recognise it. Afterwards he took me into Broadway and ho ordered the car to stop outside the theatre where I am now playing. I looked at it, and I remember I gave a little cry of interest. " ‘ This is the new theatre that everyone is talking about, isn’t it?’ I asked him eagerly. “ 1 Tt as/ he answered. 1 Would you like to see inside?’ “ Of course, I was half crazy with curiosity. The doors flew open before him and he took mo everywhere. You know yourself what a magnificent place it is—that marvellous stage, the auditorium all in dark green satin, the stalls like arm-chairs, the dressing-rooms like boudoirs—the wonderful spaciousness of it I It took my breath away. I had never imagined such, splendour. When we had finished looking over the whole building I clutched his arm. “ ‘ I can’t believe that it isn't some sort of fairy palace!' I exclaimed. ‘ And to think that no one knows who owns the place or when it is going to he opened!’ “ ‘ I’ll tell you all about that,’ he answered. ‘I built it. I own it, and it will be opened just when you accept my offer and play in it.’ ” “It all seemed 100 amazing. For a time I couldn’t speak coherently. Then T remember thinking that, whatever happened, whatever price I had to pay. I must stand upon the stage of that theatre and win. My lips were quite dry, His great voice seemed to have faded into a. whisper. “ ‘Your offer?’ I repeated. “'Yourself,’ he answered gruffly.” There was a silence which seemed to Philip interminable. All the magic of the place had passed away, its music seemed no longer to be singing happiness into his heart. Then at last he realised that she was waiting for him to speak. “He wanted to marrv you?” ho faltered. “He had a wife already.” (To be continued.)