CHAPTER XXII.
"PRAY, PERMIT ME TO ESCORT YOU HOME," SAID THE HANDSOME STRANGER,STEPPING TO JESSIE'S SIDE AND RAISING HIS HAT WITH A PROFOUND BOW.
Jessie looked out on to the stage at the very pretty girl at whom hercompanion was nodding.
"That is the one you mean?" she said.
"Yes; that's Celey Dunbar," returned her companion; "and I repeat that Iwant to warn you about her. Celey was Manager Morgan's sweetheart lastseason. We all thought he was engaged to her at one time, but he soontired of her. She is as fond of him as ever, though, and she'll make ithot for you if you don't watch out.
"Now, you see the girl in the long gray cloak, going on with her partout there? Well, that's Dovie Davis. Her husband is the handsome,dashing young fellow over yonder, who is to be your lover in the play.She's as jealous as green-gages of him, and while he is making love toyou, on the stage, she'll be watching you from some entrance, as a catwould a mouse, and woe be to you if you make your part too real! Theother lady over there is keeping company with that good-looking fellowshe is talking to; so keep your eyes off him.
"The fellow in the long ulster and silk hat I claim as my especialproperty. Don't look so dumfounded, goosie; I mean he's my beau. Wealways manage to get into the same company, and it would be war to theknife with any girl who attempted to flirt with him."
"You need not be afraid of my ever attempting to flirt with him," saidJessie gravely.
"Well, it doesn't come amiss to learn a thing or two in season,"returned Mally, with a nod. "All theatrical companies pair off likethat.
"The other two young gents who passed by the wing a moment ago, and werewatching you so intently, are married. Now, let me repeat the lessonagain, so as to impress it upon your mind: Celey Dunbar is ManagerMorgan's ex-sweetheart; Mrs. Dovie Davis is married; that gay, jollygirl is Daisy Lee, the soubrette of the company; she'd cut out any oneof us if she could; but she's so merry a sprite we don't mind her,especially as none of the fellows take to her particularly."
To Jessie that rehearsal seemed like a bewildering dream. The ladies ofthe company looked at her coldly, but the gentlemen were wonderfullypleasant to her. They talked to her as freely as though they had knownher for years, instead of only an hour. This embarrassed Jessiegreatly; she hardly knew how to take this unaccustomed familiarity.
After rehearsal was over, Manager Morgan took her back to her hotel,frowning darkly at Celey Dunbar, who made a bold attempt to walk withthem.
"Be ready at seven o'clock sharp," he said, as he left her at the door.
Left to herself when dinner was over, Jessie sat quietly down in herlonely little room to think.
She wondered how such people as she had met that day could play thedifferent parts in the beautiful story whose every incident ManagerMorgan had explained to her.
"Certainly it isn't very romantic," she thought, "to have the hero loverof the play a married man."
Night came at last, and feeling more frightened than she had ever feltin her life before, Jessie emerged from her dressing-room. Mally Marshaccompanied her to the wing to see that she went on all right when hercue was given.
"There's a big house out in front," whispered Mally. "Ah! there's yourcue now."
Out in the center of the stage stood a young man, exclaiming eagerly, ashe looked in their direction:
"Ah, here comes the little society belle now!"
"Go on; walk right out on the stage," whispered Mally, giving Jessie apush.
Jessie never knew how she got there.
The glare of the foot-lights blinded her. The words her companionuttered fell upon dazed ears. She tried to speak the words that she hadlearned so perfectly, but they seemed to die away in her throat; nosound could she utter. A great numbness was clutching at herheart-strings, and she could move neither hand nor foot.
"Aha! our little beauty is stage-frightened," she heard Celey Dunbarwhisper from one of the wings of the stage, in a loud, triumphant voice."I am just glad of it. That's what Manager Morgan gets by bringing in anovice. Ha! ha! ha!"
Those words stung Jessie into action, and quick as a flash the truantlines recurred to her, and to the great chagrin of her rival in thewings, she went on with her part unfalteringly to the very end.
Her beauty, and her fresh, sweet simplicity and naturalness quite tookthe audience by storm, and the curtain was rung down at length amid thewildest storm of applause that that theater had ever known.
The manager was delighted with Jessie Bain's success. The ladies of thecompany were furious, and they gathered together in one of the entrancesand watched her.
"Stage life is coming to a pretty how-de-do," cried one, furiously,"when women who have been before the foot-lights for ten years--ay,given the best years of their lives to the stage--have to stand aside,for a novice like that!"
"My husband plays altogether too ardent a lover to her!" cried DovieDavis, jealously. "I won't stand it! Either she leaves this company atthe end of a fortnight, or my husband and I do; that's all there isabout it!"
This appeared to be the sentiment of every woman in the company, andthey did not attempt to conceal their dislike as she passed them byduring the evening.
Just before the curtain went down, Manager Morgan received a telegramwhich called him to Rochester. He had barely time to catch the train,and in his hurry he quite forgot to leave instructions to have some onesee Jessie Bain to the hotel.
As Jessie emerged from her dressing-room she looked around for Mr.Morgan. He was nowhere about.
"I thought you'd never come out of your dressing-room, ma'am," said theman who was waiting to turn the lights out. "Every one's gone--you'rethe last one."
"Has--has Mr. Morgan gone?" echoed Jessie, in great trepidation.
"Every one's gone, I said," was the saucy reply.
And the man turned the light out in her face, and she was obliged togrope her way as best she could along the dark entry. After flounderingabout the building for almost ten minutes, until the great tears wererolling down her cheeks with fright, she at length called loudly to someone to come to her assistance.
The same man who had turned out the gas on her now came grumblingly toher rescue. At length she found herself out on the street.
Before she had time to turn and ask the man the way to the hotel, he hadslammed the door to in her face and turned the key in the lock with aloud, resounding click, and Jessie found herself standing ankle-deep inthe snow-drift, with the wind whirling about her and dashing theblinding snow in her face.
Suddenly from out the dark shadows of an adjacent door-way sprung a manin a long ulster.
"Don't be frightened, Miss Bain," he exclaimed. "I have been waiting foryou almost an hour, to see you home."
Jessie started back in dismay. At that instant he half turned, and theflickering light from the gas-lamp fell full upon his face, and sherecognized him as one of the members of the company--Walter Winans, whomMally Marsh had said was her beau.
Even had this not been the case, Jessie could never have admired sobold-looking a fellow.
"Excuse me, but I am very sorry that you waited for me, Mr. Winans,"said Jessie, coldly. "I can find my way back to the hotel alone."
"Phew! What an independent little piece we are, to be sure!" he cried."You're not expecting any one else, are you?" he inquired lookinghastily around.
"No," said Jessie, simply.
"Come on, then, with me," he said, seizing her arm and fairly draggingher along.
Discretion seemed the better part of valor to Jessie. She thought itwould not be wise to offend the young man; and, to tell the truth, shewas rather glad to have some one to pilot her along through the terriblesnow-drifts.
"Let me tell you something," said Winans, without waiting for heranswer. "I have taken quite a liking to you, Jessie Bain--this isbetween you and me--and I hope very much that the feeling will bereciprocated, little girl. I'll be only too glad to escort you to andfrom the theater every night, if you like. Don't let any of
the girls ofthis company talk you into the belief that they have any claim on me.
"You must not think it strange that I took an interest in you, littleJessie, from the first moment I saw you," continued Winans, pressing thegirl's hand softly, as they pushed on bravely through the terriblesnow-drifts. "There was something about you very different from the restof the girls whom I have met."
"I trust you will not talk so to me, Mr. Winans," said Jessie.
"But I must," he insisted. "I must tell you all that is in my heart.Surely you can not blame a fellow so very much for being unfortunateenough to fall desperately in love with you!"
He had spoken the words eagerly, and it never occurred to him that theyhad been uttered so loudly that any one passing might have heard them.
Suddenly from out the shadow of an arched door-way sprang a woman, whoplanted herself directly in the snowy path before them.
"Stop!" she cried. "Don't dare advance a step further!" and quick as aflash she drew a heavy riding-whip from the folds of her cloak. Once,twice, thrice it cut through the snow-laden air, and fell upon Winans'defenseless head.
Smarting with pain, he dropped Jessie's arm and sprang forward, andattempted to wrest the whip from the infuriated young woman's hands.
"Take that! and that! and that!" she cried, again and yet again; andwith each word the blows rained down faster and faster upon his face andhands.
There was but one way to escape, and that was in ignominious flight.
"So," cried Mally Marsh, as she turned to Jessie "this is all the heedyou paid to my warning, is it? If I gave you your just deserts, I wouldthrash you within an inch of your life, for attempting to take my loveraway from me! Now listen to what I have to say, girl, and take warning:You must leave this company at once. If you do not do so, I will notanswer for myself. Do not make it an excuse that you have no money.Here!" and with the word she flung a bill in her face. "The depot is toyour right. Go there, and take the first train back to the city whenceyou came. Go, I say, while yet I can keep my wrath in check."
Jessie stood there for a moment like one stupefied. She tried to explainhow it had happened, but her companion would not listen and walked away.
As one lost, Jessie wandered to the depot, where a policeman, noticingher distress, drew her story from her. He said he knew of a mostrespectable old woman who was looking for a companion and wrote her nameand address on a piece of paper for Jessie. The policeman readilyconsented to allow her to remain in the station until morning. It was along and weary wait and at eight o'clock Jessie went to the house towhich the policeman had directed her.
A pompous footman conducted her to a spacious drawing-room, and placed aseat for her.
After a long and dreary wait which seemed hours to Jessie, though inreality it was not over twenty minutes, she heard the rustle of awoman's dress. An instant later, a little white, shrivelled hand, loadedwith jewels pushed aside the satin _portieres_, and an old lady appearedon the threshold.
Jessie rose hesitatingly from her seat with a little courtesy.
"You came in answer to my advertisement for a companion?" the little oldlady began.
"Yes, madame," returned Jessie.
"Where were you in service last?"
"I have never had a position of the kind before," said Jessie,hesitatingly, "but if you would try me, madame, I would do my very bestto suit you."
"Speak a little louder," said the old lady, sharply. "I am a trifle hardof hearing. Mind, just a trifle, I can not quite hear you."
Jessie repeated in a louder tone what she had said.
"Your appearance suits me exactly," returned Mrs. Bassett; "but I couldnot take a person into my household who is an entire stranger, and whohas no references to offer to assure me of her respectability."
Jessie's eyes filled with tears.
"I am so sorry," she faltered; "but as I am a stranger in Albany, thereis no one here to whom I could apply for a reference."
"I like your face very much indeed," repeated Mrs. Bassett, more toherself than to the girl; then, turning to her suddenly, she asked:"Where are you from--where's your home?"
"A little village on the St. Lawrence River called Fisher's Landing,"returned Jessie. "My uncle, Captain Carr, died a week ago, and I wasforced to leave my old home, and go out into the world and earn my ownliving."
"Did you say you lived at Fisher's Landing?" exclaimed the old lady,"and that Captain Carr of that place was your uncle?"
"Yes, madame," returned Jessie.