Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1894-01-25

Of q play,

But what put the idea into your
head?' asked the leading man of the
dramatist, as they stood together dur
ing the rehearsal of new play.
The dramatist was a lady, a tall,
slight woman of perhaps thirty, with
a striking face, lighted by pair Of
large dark-blue eyes. The beauty of
those eyes made people sometimes
fancy Mrs. Clavering was beautiful,
hlt she was not; she was intellectual,
she was charming and sympathetic,
and she had suffered you could see
that in her face. Perhaps. then, she
was, in a sense, beautiful. The lead
ing man was inclined to think so. and
he liked very much 10 talk to her. AS
for her, she thought him "a nice fell
low" and admired his acting, but that
was ALL She smiled at his question.
"Oh! I hardly know" she said. with
an absent look in her blue eyes.
Don't you like it,"
Like it? Yes, of course I do: it's
telling, very telling; bit romantic,
You know"
"Oh, yes not like real life; but real
life is sometimes too prosaic for the
stage. l often think these pessimists
one hears so much of now have known
very little trouble. They are too fond
of dabbEng in the miseries of exist
cree"
The leading man gave the speaker
1,11t 1,ic 1yr,.1 Incl
theJ-in fact, he had missed it-and
he had to run forward to take his
place.
Mrs. Clavering was a novelist who
had not been very long in London,
having spent most Of her life abroad.
She had written two or three Onc-act
pieces, which had been we'll received.
and now she had launched into a three
act piece and was going to produce it
at Il matinee. 1t was a clever play,
we'll put together and well written,
but not calculated to set all the town
talking, though superior TO a good
many plays that do set the town talk
ing. What the beading man alluded
to was, as it were, the motif Of the
piece. The hero, in the first act, cast
off his wife and left her, declaring he
would live as he chose, she hampered
him, and SO On. The wife, still low
| ing the man who was so cruel to her.
declared he could not shake her off.
II shall be with you she cries,
whether you will or not You shall
hear me call to you when the darkest
hour of life comes; and if I cannot win
you back to love I win, at least, keep
YOU from crime
| In the second act the hero is about
| to marry a rich girl; the wedding
guests arrive all is ready, when sud
denly he start; he hears his wife's
voice calling him; he is appalled,, con-
science-striken; he confesSes his intend
ed crime In the third act matters
have reached a climax; the hero, ruin
ed socially and in purse, is about to
commit suicide; once more the warning
voice arrests him: he filings the pistol
away, and as he does 80 his wife en-
! tiers and the two are completely re-
conciled.
"A charming idea," said the leading
lady to the author, "but don't you
make Margaret too forgiving?"
"I don't kn0w-Gf.aham lis her hus-
band
THAT makes it harder"
ooh! no, I think it makes it easier. y
DO your a1oud-but to herself:
'Her husband was one of the good
sort, or she wouldn't talk so. It's all
right to forgive like that in a play:
! in real life the husband would go the
old way again in no time at all"
Eyes" said Mrs. Clavering. 'Have
YOU ever read Browning's ANY Wife to
Any Husband'T'
The leading lady raised her brows.
mo, indeed.' she said. Browning
is too deep for me-
anyone can understand that. Read
| it."
| The stage manager came up to ask
about a proposed "cut." and the lead
ing lady turned away TO ask the lead
ing man whether Mrs. Clavering was
widow. divorced or separated.
I'm sure / don't know" was the
answer; and nobody else did. She liv-
ed in apartments near one Of the West
Central squares and was, always well
come in the literary and artistic cir
cles in which she moved, and, though
| it was generally presumed that her
/ husband was dead, it could not be re-
called that she had ever said so; and
sometimes in these days it isn't wise
! TO be curious about peoples absent or
nbn-est husbands. When you came
to think Of it, indeed, it would be diff
ficult to assert positively that Claver-
ing was the authors real name. Her
novels We're published as by Alix
Clavering, and when she came to Lon
don she called herself Mrs Clavering,
which might or might not be a mon
de guerre: for it YVES her publishers
who first introduced her into London
literary society. and it was not their
business to disclose her real name. sup
posing that she had another name than
that under which she chose to appear.
The rehearsal was over and Mrs.
CrJouo,,no hnroo Che bo6 foyv