CHAPTER XVIII BEHIND THE SCENES
For a moment Dorothy felt as if she must make her way back after herfriends--it was so terrifying to find herself in such a press--but aglance at the wavering canvas that now hid from the public the company ofplayers and helpers, inspired her with new courage. She would go behindthe scenes and see if that girl was Tavia!
In a short time the theatre was emptied, save for the ushers and the boyswho dashed in and out among the rows of seats, picking up the scatteredprogrammes, and making the place ready for the evening performance. Oneof the ushers, seeing Dorothy, walked over to her.
"Waiting for anybody?" he asked mechanically, without glancing up at her,but indicating that he was ready to turn up the seat before which she wasstanding.
"Yes," replied Dorothy.
"In the company?" he inquired next.
"Yes. The young lady who played Katherine."
"This way," the young man exclaimed snappily, but in no unpleasant tone.He led the way along the row of seats, down an isle and through a verynarrow door that seemed to be made of black oil cloth.
Dorothy had no time to think of what was going to happen. It had all comeabout so quickly--she hardly knew how to proceed now--what name to askfor--or whether or not to give her own in case it was demanded. Shewondered what the actress would think of her if Katherine did not turnout to be Tavia.
"You mean Miss Riceman," the usher went on as he closed the narrow door."This way, please," and, the next moment, Dorothy found herself behindthe scenes in a big city theatre.
The place was a maze of doors and passageways. Wires and ropes were in aseeming tangle overhead and all about were big wooden frames covered withpainted canvas--scenes and flies that slid in and out at the two sides ofa stage, and make up a very important part of a theatrical company'soutfit.
These immense canvases seemed to be all over, and every time Dorothytried to walk toward a door indicated by her guide, who had suddenlydisappeared, she found she was in front of or behind some depiction of abuilding, or the side of a house or a street. Mechanics were busy allabout her.
Suddenly a girl thrust her head from one of the many doors and shouted toan unseen person:
"Nellie! Nellie, dear! I'm ready for that ice-cream soda. Get into yourstreet togs quick or you'll be having soup instead--"
"Nellie! Nellie!" came in a chorus from all sides, though the owners ofthe voices remained hidden, and then there rang out through the big spacea spontaneous burst of a line from the chorus of the old song:
"I was seeing Nellie home. I was seeing Nellie home. It was from Aunt Dinah's quilting party, I was seeing Nellie home."
"Ha! Ha! How's that, Nellie?" inquired a deep bass voice.
Dorothy stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. This was better thanthe play, she thought, as she vaguely wondered what sort of life must beled behind the scenes. Then the thought of her position sent a chill overher. She must seek out the performer who went by the name of MissRiceman, and then--
By this time a number of the characters appeared from their dressingrooms, and Dorothy stepped up to a girl with an enormous hat on her head,and a pair of very small shoes in her hand. As the girl sank gracefullydown on an upturned box to adjust her ties, and, incidentally, to get abreath of air after the atmosphere of the stuffy dressing room, Dorothyasked timidly:
"Can you tell me where Miss Riceman's dressing room is?"
"That first door to the left," answered the girl, tilting her big hatback far enough to allow a glimpse of her questioner.
Dorothy stepped up to the door. Surely Tavia could not be there!Dorothy's heart beat furiously. She was trembling so she could hardlyknock, but managed to give a faint tap.
"Who?" called a girlish voice.
"Miss Dale," answered Dorothy mechanically, feeling as if she wouldalmost be willing to give up her search for Tavia if she could be wellout of the place. There was a moment's wait and then the door swung open.
"Come in," invited the girl from within the little room. "Oh, you'reMiss--let me see--I'm afraid I've forgotten your name--you're from the_Leader_, aren't you?"
"No," replied Dorothy, breathing easier, now that she found herself alonewith a girl--a simple human being just like any other girl. "I am lookingfor--for a friend," she went on, stammeringly, "and I thought perhaps youcould tell me--"
"You poor child," interrupted Miss Riceman whose toilet was sounceremoniously interrupted "just come in and sit down on this trunk.Then let me get you something. You actually look ill."
"I'm just--just a little fri--frightened," Dorothy gasped, for indeed shewas now feeling queer and dizzy, and it was all getting black before hereyes.
"Nettie!" called the actress, "get me some cold water and call to thegirls in the 'Lair' and see if they have made coffee. Hurry now," to thewoman who helped the actresses dress. Then she offered Dorothy a bottleof smelling salts. "Take a whiff of that," she said kindly. "The womanwill be back soon with some ice water. I'm sorry you're not well. Was itthe smell from the gas lights? I don't see why they make us pooractresses put up with them, when they have electric light in front. It'sabominable! And the smoke from the powder they use to make the lightning!It fairly chokes me," and she blew aside a curling wreath of vapor thatsifted in through the door. A moment later the woman handed in a pitcherof water and a glass. "No coffee?" in answer to some message. "Well, allright."
The actress flew over to a box that served as a dresser and poured out aglass of water for Dorothy. As she did so Dorothy had a chance to look atKatherine, whom she imagined might be Tavia. There was not the slightestresemblance now that the actress had her "make-up" off. How could alittle paint, powder and the glare from the footlights perform such amiracle, thought Dorothy. This girl was as different from Tavia asDorothy was herself. And yet she did look so like her--
"Here's a nice drink of water," spoke Miss Riceman.
"Now please don't let me bother you so," pleaded Dorothy, sitting updeterminedly and trying to look as if nothing was the matter. But shesipped the water gladly. "I'm quite well now, thank you, Miss Riceman,and I'll not detain you a moment longer from your dressing."
"Nonsense, child, sit still. You won't bother me the least bit. I'll goright on. Now tell me who it is you're looking for?"
Dorothy watched the actress toss aside a mass of brown hair that was solike Tavia's. Then she saw a string pulled and--the wig came off. Thereal, naturally blond hair of Miss Riceman fell in a shower over hershoulders.
Turning to Dorothy the performer instantly realized that the scene wasnew to her visitor and, with that strange, subtle instinct which seems tocharacterize the artistic professional woman, she at once relieved thesituation by remarking:
"Do you know we never feel like removing our 'make-up' before thereporters. Even women representatives of the press (and of course wenever admit any others to our dressing rooms) have such a funny way ofdescribing things that I should be mortally afraid of taking off my wigbefore one. I thought you were Miss--Oh, what's her name--I never canthink of it--from the _Leader_. I expected her to call. But, do you knowthat women reporters are just the dearest set of rascals in the world?They simply can't help being funny when it's a joke on you. Now, whom didyou say you were looking for? I do rattle on so!"
All this, of course, was giving Dorothy time--and she needed it badly,for her story was by no means ready for a "dress rehearsal."
But there was something so self-assuring about the actress--she was notin the least coarse or loud-spoken--she was, on the contrary, the veryembodiment of politeness. Dorothy felt she could talk freely with herabout Tavia.
"I am looking for a young girl named Octavia Travers," began Dorothybravely, "and I thought possibly she might be with this company."
"Was she with this company previously? I don't seem to recall the name."
"Oh, I don't know that she is with any company," Dorothy hastened to add,feeling how foolish it m
ust seem to be looking for a girl in a theatricaltroupe when one had no more assurance that she might be with such acompany than that she might be working in a department store.
"Haven't you her address?" asked Miss Riceman, as she stood before theglass, daubing on some cold cream to remove the last of the "make-up"from her face.
"No," answered Dorothy miserably enough. "I only wish I had."
The actress with the cream jar turned around in time to see the tearscoming into Dorothy's eyes. Miss Riceman dropped the jar down on herimprovised dresser and came over to where her visitor sat on the trunk.
"Tell me all about it," she said kindly, sitting down beside Dorothy."Perhaps I can help you. She is not your sister, is she?"
"No," was the answer, and then began a confidence of which Dorothy hadscarcely believed herself capable. She told how Tavia was as much to heras a sister could be, and how she feared her chum had taken to the stageon account of her peculiarities while at school. Then Dorothy describedTavia's appearance--how pretty she was--what beautiful hair she had.
"And her eyes," Dorothy almost cried, "I have never seen eyes likeTavia's. They are as soft a brown as the inside of a chestnut burr."
"Exactly!" chimed in Miss Riceman. "I would not be surprised but that Isaw that very girl the other day. It was in the manager's office. Shecame alone and she looked--well--I knew at once that she was a totalstranger to the business. And when the manager asked how old she was (forthey have to be particular about age you know) I think she saidseventeen, but I knew she was not quite as old as that."
Dorothy clasped her hands in a strained gesture. How she wanted to findTavia, yet how she feared to discover her in this way!
"That might be her," she faltered thoughtfully.
"If it was, she is with a company playing on the same circuit we do,"went on Miss Riceman. "Let me see," and she consulted a slip of paperpinned to the wall. "Yes, they follow us in some towns. It was the 'LadyRossmore's Secret' company that the girl I am speaking about applied to,and I'm sure she was engaged, for I was interested in her appearance, andlater I asked some one about her. Now the thing for you to do is to cometo the manager's office here to-morrow afternoon, between five and six.He has control of several companies, including the one I'm with and theL. R. S. as we call it for short, the 'Lady Rossmore's Secret' I mean.Just ask him for your friend's address--or, better still, just ask wherethe company is playing and she'll be sure to be with it. He might not paymuch attention to you if he thought you were looking for some one inparticular and hadn't any clue to her whereabouts."
"I'll do it," said Dorothy determinedly, as she arose to go.
"Now don't leave here until you are positive you feel all right,"cautioned Miss Riceman. "I'm sure I'm very glad to have met you and Ihope I have been able to help you. I'm sorry I can't tell you where theRossmore company is, but I haven't made a memoranda of the completebooking as I sometimes do. I thought I had it on a slip of paper but Ifind I haven't."
"Oh, I'm sure you've helped me a lot," exclaimed Dorothy, hardly able toput her gratitude into words, but the busy little actress looked entirelysatisfied with her visitor's thanks as she showed Dorothy the way out ofthe stage door. She smiled cheerily at her as she waved her hand ingood-bye and then she went back behind the scenes again, to her dressingroom to resume the removal of the "make-up" from her face.