Dorothy's Triumph

“My dear girl,” he cried, “dat was excellent – excellent. I am proud, indeed, to know you.”

“I trust you will never have occasion to change your mind,” was the girl’s pleasant response.

The entertainment over, Herr Deichenberg and Judge Breckenridge engaged in a checker contest, which was so closely fought that the others stopped whatever they were doing to look on. The Herr was finally triumphant, taking four games out of seven.

When the Christmas party broke up that evening, all were agreed that it had been one of the most glorious holiday times they had ever spent.

CHAPTER XII

MR. LUDLOW’S OFFER

The holidays passed all too quickly to the happy party at Old Bellvieu. Herr and Frau Deichenberg came no more during the stay of the Judge and Molly, but Gerald and Aurora were over nearly every evening.

One night, toward the close of the week, Aunt Betty and the Judge chaperoned a party of young people, including Dorothy, Molly, Aurora, Gerald, Jim and Len to the theater, where one of the reigning comic opera successes was on view. It was an imported piece of the “Merry Widow” type, and everyone enjoyed it to the utmost. Aunt Betty and the Judge found their risibilities thoroughly shaken by the antics of the star, a comedian of prominence, while the tastes of the young people seemed to incline toward the bright chorus numbers, and the individual songs and duets.

Len was perhaps the most joyous member of the party. It was his first experience at the theater, and the elaborate stage settings, the bright lights, and the catchy music had opened to him the gates of Fairyland, as it were.

When one of the characters cracked a joke, and the comedian replied that he was very fond of walnuts and hickory nuts, but not at all partial to chestnuts, Len nearly fell out of his seat, and the young lady who followed them on the stage was well through her song before he controlled his laughter enough to realize what was going on.

Len’s merriment so pleased Aunt Betty and Judge Breckenridge that they, too, burst into laughter, which continued until a whispered “Sh!” from Dorothy warned them that they were attracting the attention of others in the theater. Then the Judge put his finger to his lips and looked solemnly at Len and Aunt Betty, whereupon the trio instantly became sober, and turned their attention again to the stage.

After the theater the Judge insisted on treating the party to hot chocolate and cake, so they were led to a popular resort often frequented during the days by Dorothy and Aurora. This served to round off a very pleasant evening, and as there was nothing to prevent each member of the party from sleeping late the following morning, their happiness was complete.

So urgently did Aunt Betty and Dorothy beg Molly and the Judge to spend the early part of January with them, that the Judge consented, greatly to Molly’s delight.

“Business really demands my attention in New York,” he said, “but I suppose that can wait another week. We don’t have times like this every year, do we Molly, girl?”

“Indeed, no,” responded the person addressed.

“But it will not be my fault hereafter, if you do not have them each year,” said Aunt Betty. “I hereby issue a standing invitation for you both to spend the next holiday season with us, and the next, and the next, and so on, and next year, Judge, you must bring your sister Lucretia. It was an oversight on my part in not inviting her on this occasion.”

“Lucretia has been very busy doing some settlement work, and Christmas is her busy time, hence, she would have been unable to accept your kind invitation. Next year, however, things may have changed. If so, we shall certainly bring her with us.”

There followed a succession of trips to nearby points of interest. The snow, which lay thick during the holidays, began to melt soon after the new year dawned, and, the roads drying hard, Gerald came over one day in the auto and took them for a jaunt in the country.

A fishing excursion to the shores of the bay on another day, with Jim and Ephraim as the pilots, served to demonstrate to the Judge that he was every bit as good a fisherman as he had been in the early days, for he caught eight speckled sea-trout, and three red-fish – a better record than was made by any other member of the party.

Finally, the Judge and Molly took their departure, the former declaring that the duties in New York had become imperative ones. Dorothy hated to lose her chum again, they saw each other so seldom, but agreed with Molly that the latter must spend some time in her own home.

Then, as February passed, and the winds of March began to make themselves felt, things settled down to their usual routine at Bellvieu.

Dorothy, who had resumed her lessons immediately upon Molly’s departure, was fast approaching a point where, Herr Deichenberg declared, she would be able to appear before an audience in the most critical of musical centers. He advised that she immediately seek the opportunity, or allow him to seek one for her.

Again Aunt Betty interposed a mild objection, and the music master, with a sly wink at Dorothy, observed under his breath:

“Just leave it to me.”

This Dorothy did, and with good results, as will be seen.

She dropped the subject entirely when Aunt Betty was around, resolved to wait until the psychological moment arrived to again broach the matter, or until she heard further from Herr Deichenberg.

Two weeks passed and finally Herr Deichenberg came out to the house one morning with Mr. Ludlow, whom he presented to Aunt Betty.

At first the mistress of Bellvieu was inclined to receive the theatrical man coldly, believing he had come to entice her niece away, but gradually, under Herr Deichenberg’s careful urging, she began to see matters in a new light.

“Mr. Ludlow has no desire to take Miss Dorothy avay from you,” said the Herr, earnestly. “Please believe me vhen I tell you. Also believe me vhen I say dat all of Miss Dorothy’s lessons vill go for naught, if she does not seek a time und place to exploit her talents. There is open for her a career of great prominence – of dat I am very sure, but to attain de pinnacle of success, she must first go a few steps above de middle rounds of de ladder. Mr. Ludlow has a good proposition to make to her, und one dat meets with my hearty approval. I beg of you, Mrs. Calvert, listen carefully to vhat he has to say, und deliberate before you give him an answer.”

“If Dorothy’s welfare is at stake I shall listen, of course; I should have listened, anyway, but with some prejudice, I will admit. I cannot see where it will do my niece any great good to become a stage celebrity, but if Mr. Ludlow can convince me, I stand ready to acknowledge my error.”

“I am sure that is fair enough,” said Mr. Ludlow, smiling genially. He had a pleasant personality – refined, even striking in the more serious moments, and Aunt Betty felt attracted to him the instant he began to speak.

“A career for your niece, Mrs. Calvert – a professional career – under proper management, is distinctly the proper thing for her. I heard her play at Herr Deichenberg’s concert here last fall, and knew at once that she had an exceptional amount of talent, which, if fostered, under the Herr’s careful methods, would make of her one of the musical wonders of the age. It was then I made my offer – which was merely a tentative one – to Miss Calvert, not meaning to in any way override your authority, but merely for the purpose of sounding her out and winning a promise that she would give me an option on her services, provided she decided to adopt the concert stage as a career.”

“She told me of her conversation with you,” returned Aunt Betty, “and I am free to admit that I was prejudiced against it.”

“You were also prejudiced against riding fast in Gerald’s automobile, auntie,” said Dorothy, smiling. “But Gerald overcame that just as Mr. Ludlow is going to try to overcome this.”

“From speeding in an automobile, to adopting the concert stage as a career, is a far cry, my dear,” returned Aunt Betty, rather severely, Dorothy thought.

Had she known what was passing in her relative’s mind, however, the girl would not for a moment have condemned her. Had she known, for instance, that Aunt Betty’s prejudice against the stage as a career was not at the bottom of her refusal, but the fact that she feared Dorothy would be taken away from her in her old age, just when she had found her a second time, and learned to know and love her, she would have immediately thrown her arms around Aunt Betty’s neck and making no comment have kissed her affectionately.

“Of course, I do not know the state of your finances, nor would I be so presuming as to inquire,” Mr. Ludlow went on, “but it may interest you to know that if Miss Dorothy goes on the concert stage it will mean quite a tidy sum of money for her – and money, I am sure, will always prove a handy asset to have around. So, both artistically and financially, it seems the proper thing for her to do.”

“But I have heard that girls on the stage are exposed to many temptations,” protested Aunt Betty, who felt the ground slipping from under her arguments. Realizing, as she did, that it was Dorothy’s wish that she give the concert stage a trial, she was inclined to be lenient.

“A wrong impression, madame – an entirely wrong impression,” said Mr. Ludlow, emphatically. “There are temptations in stage life, yes; but so there are in other professions, and he or she who falters will find their steps to be hard ones, no matter who they are or where they be. Force of character rules on the stage, Mrs. Calvert, just as it does in every other walk of life. Thus it is that the theatrical profession shelters some of the smartest, most wonderful women the world has ever known. Because a few notoriety seekers have caused the finger of scorn to be pointed at an honorable profession, just as one dishonest employé can, and frequently does, cause a whole institution to be looked at with suspicion, should the dramatic profession, as a whole, be made to suffer? I ask you this in all fairness, madame, and await your answer.”

“Well, really, I hadn’t considered it in that light,” said Aunt Betty, slowly, deliberately. “I believe you are right, Mr. Ludlow, and I thank you sincerely for changing my viewpoint. Ever since I saw that great play, ‘The Music Master,’ with David Warfield in the part of Herr von Barwig, I have wondered if the theatrical profession was wholly a bad one. Now, I think I understand.”

“I am glad it remained for me to tell you, Mrs. Calvert.”

“And if my niece sees fit to arrange with you for a metropolitan appearance, and you feel that it will be a great triumph for her, I shall certainly not stand in the way.”

“Oh, you dear, good auntie!” Dorothy cried, throwing her arms about Mrs. Calvert’s neck and giving her a resounding kiss. “I shall thank you all my life for those few words.”

“Mrs. Calvert, you have made a very sensible decision,” Herr Deichenberg remarked with no little degree of satisfaction. “Believe me, I know vhat I say iss true. Und now, if you vill please allow Mr. Ludlow to make some necessary arrangements before he takes his leave, it vill greatly facilitate matters.”

Aunt Betty quickly assented, and turning to Dorothy, Mr. Ludlow said:

“What I wish is for you to appear at a preliminary concert in New York City, at a date yet to be decided upon. You will be under the watchful eye of your music master, and the affair will be given under his auspices. You will, perhaps, have some prominent vocalist to help you fill in the evening’s entertainment. I wish to know if this will be agreeable?”

“Yes, if the date is not too soon,” the girl replied.

“As to that, we shall suit your pleasure, so it occurs before warm weather sets in.”

“It need not be later than the first of May.”

“Then please sign this contract. I have drawn it up with the approval of Herr Deichenberg, but before attaching your name, I will ask you to read it and be sure you thoroughly understand it.”