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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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"You have?" he said, breathing a better breath. "Yes." "What sort of a place is it?" he asked, feeling in his veins as if now he might get something good also. "In the chorus," she answered. "Is it the Casino show you told me about?" "Yes," she answered. "I begin rehearsing tomorrow." There was more explanation volunteered by Carrie, because she was happy. At last Hurstwood said: "Do you know how much you’ll get?" "No, I didn’t want to ask," said Carrie. "I guess they pay twelve or fourteen dollars a week." "About that, I guess," said Hurstwood. There was a good dinner in the flat that evening, owing to the mere lifting of the terrible strain. Hurstwood went out for a shave, and returned with a fair-sized sirloin steak. "Now, to-morrow," he thought, "I’ll look around myself," and with renewed hope he lifted his eyes from the ground. On the morrow Carrie reported promptly and was given a place in the line. She saw a large, empty, shadowy play-house, still redolent of the perfumes and blazonry of the night, and notable for its rich, oriental appearance. The wonder of it awed and delighted her. Blessed be its wondrous reality. How hard she would try to be worthy of it. It was above the common mass, above idleness, above want, above insignificance. People came to it in finery and carriages to see. It was ever a center of light and mirth. And here she was of it. Oh, if she could only re- main, how happy would be her days! "What is your name?" said the manager, who was conducting the drill. "Madenda," she replied, instantly mindful of the name Drouet had selected in Chicago. "Carrie Madenda." "Well, now, Miss Madenda," he said, very affably, as Carrie thought, "you go over there." Then he called to a young woman who was already of the company: "Miss Clark, you pair with Miss Madenda." This young lady stepped forward, so that Carrie saw where to go, and the rehearsal began. Carrie soon found that while this drilling had some slight resemblance to the rehearsals as conducted at Avery Hall, the attitude of the manager was much more pronounced. She had marvelled at the insistence and superior airs of Mr. Millice, but the individual conducting here had the same insistence, coupled with almost brutal roughness. As the drilling proceeded, he seemed to wax exceedingly wroth over trifles, and to increase his lung power in proportion. It was very evident that he had a great contempt for any assumption of dignity or innocence on the part of these young women. "Clark," he would call-meaning, of course, Miss Clark-"why don’t you catch step there?" "By fours, right! Right, I said, right! For heaven’s sake, get on to yourself! Right!" and in saying this he would lift the last sounds into a vehement roar. "Maitland! Maitland!" he called once. A nervous, comely-dressed little girl stepped out. Carrie trembled for her out of the fulness of her own sympathies and fear. "Yes, sir," said Miss Maitland. "Is there anything the matter with your ears?" "No, sir." "Do you know what ‘column left’ means?" "Yes, sir." "Well, what are you stumbling around the right for? Want to break up the line?" "I was just-" |
