Every one exclaimed, as they rushed out. Julia, unaccountably nervous, wished she were well out of this affair, and wondered what she ought to do.
Presently some twenty-five or thirty well-dressed folk came streaming back down the main aisle in a wild confusion of laughter and talk. Somehow the principals were filtered out of this crowd, and somehow they got on the stage, and got a few lights turned on, and assembled for the advice of an agitated manager. Dowagers and sympathetic friends settled in orchestra seats to watch; the rehearsal began.
Julia had strolled up to the stage after the others; now she sat on a shabby wooden chair that had lost its back, leaned her back against a piece of scenery, and surveyed the scene with as haughty and indifferent an air as she could assume.
“And the Sergeant—who takes that?” demanded the manager, a young fellow of their own class, familiarly addressed as “Matty.”
The caste, which had been churning senselessly about him, chorussed an explanation.
“A professional takes that, Mat, don’t you remember?”
“Well, where is she?” Matty asked irritably.
Julia here sauntered superbly forward, serenely conscious of youth, beauty, and charm. Every one stared frankly at her, as she said languidly:
“Perhaps it’s I you’re looking for? Mr. Artheris—”
“Yes, that’s right!” said Matty, relieved. He wiped his forehead. “Miss—Page, isn’t it?” He paused, a little at a loss, eying the other ladies of the caste dubiously. The girl called Barbara Toland now came forward with her ready graciousness, and the two girls looked fairly into each other’s eyes.
“Miss Page,” said Barbara, and then impatiently to the manager, “Do go ahead and get started, Matty; we’ve got to get home some time to-night!”
Julia’s introduction was thus waived, and business began at once. The wavering voices of the principals drifted uncertainly into the theatre. “Louder!” said the chaperons and friends. The men were facetious, interpolating their lines with jokes, good-humoured under criticism; the girls fluttered nervously over cues, could not repeat the simplest line without a half-giggling “Let’s see— yes, I come in here,” and were only fairly started before they must interrupt themselves with an earnest, “Mat, am I standing still when I say that, or do I walk toward her?”
Julia was the exception. She had been instructed a fortnight before that she must know her lines and business to-day, and she did know them. Almost scornfully she took her cues and walked through her part. “Matty” clapped his hands and overpraised her, and Julia felt with a great rush of triumph that she had “shown those girls!” She had an exhilarating afternoon, for the men buzzed about her on every possible occasion, and she knew that the other girls, for all their lofty indifference, were keenly conscious of it.
She went out through the theatre with the others, at an early six. The young people straggled along the aisle in great confusion, laughing and chattering. Mrs. Toland, a plump, merry, handsomely dressed woman, was anxious to carry off her tall daughter in time for some early boat.