The Benson signal., 1918-02-16
l wouldn't ask for anything handsom-

The rest Of it didn't matter to Rose
the more guarded but nevertheless
cordial approval of the two owners,
who had yet to make sure on the fig
ures; and the details of settlement,
which left her more than a hundred
dollars profit, even after she had de-
Quoted the hundred she owed Rod
ney. The point-the point-settled
by Galbraith's praise-was that she
had succeeded.
It was, on the whole, a good bar
gain on both sides. But Goldsmith
and Block came back next day and
drove another bargain, principally to
their own advantage.
"You've certainly gotta good eye for
costumes, Miss Dane," Goldsmith said,
'and here's proposition we'd like to
make. A lot of these other things
we've got for the regular chorus don't
look as good as they might. You'll be
able to see changes to make in them
that'll improve them maybe fifty per
cent. Well, you take it on, and We'll
now; you understand, twenty-five dol
lars a week, beginning today"
Rose accepted the proposition with
warm flush of gratitude. But, from
the moment her little salary began,
she found herself retained, body and
soul, exactly as Galbraith himself
was. They'd bought all her ideas, all
her energy, all her time, except a
few scant hours for sleep and few
snatched minutes for meals.
She gave her employers, up to the
time when the piece opened at the
Globe, at a conservative calculation,
about five times their moneys worth.
Even if she hadn't been in the COM
two days work in every twenty-four
hours, just in the wardrobe room.
There wasn't a single costume outside
Roses own twelve that didn't have to
be remodeled more or less.
On top of all that, the really ter
rible grind of rehearsals began :
property rehearsals. curiously discon-
certing at first; scenery rehearsals
that caused the stage to seem small
and cluttered up, and, last and ghast-
liest, a dress rehearsal, which began
at seven o'clock one night and lasted
till four the next morning.
If you had seen them that morning,
utterly tagged out, unsustained by
single CLEAN of hope, you'd have
said it was impossible that they
should give any sort of perform
ance that night-let alone a good one.
But by eight o'clock, when the over
ture was called, you wouldn't have
known them for the same people.
There was the feeling, on the edge of
this first performance, that they were
now on their own.
Tile appearance, back on the stage,
of John Galbraith in evening dress,
just as the call of the first act brought
them trooping from their dressing
rooms, intensified this sensation. He
was going to be, tonight, simply one Of
the audience.
Rose herself was completely dOmi-
mated by the new spirit. Her nerves
slack, frayed, numb an hour ago
had sprung miraculously into tune.
She not only didn't feel tired. 1t
seemed she never could feel tired
again.
1t wasn't until along in the third
act that the audience became, for her,
anything but a colloid mass-some-
thing that you squeezed and thumped
and worked as you did clay, to get it
into a properly plastic condition Of
receptivity, so that the jokes, the
songs, the dances, even the spindling
little shafts Of romance that you shot
out into it, could be felt to dig in and
take hold.
But along in the third act, as she
came down to the footlights with the
rest Of the sextette in their "All
Alone" number, one face detached it.
self suddenly from the pasty gray
surface Of those that spread over the
auditorium: became human-individu-
al-and intensely familiar; became
the face. Enthusiastically, Of Jimmy Wal
lace!
1t is probable that Of all the au-
dience, only two men saw that any
thing had happened, so Erief was the
frozen instant while she stood trans
fixed. One Of them was John Gal
braith, in the back row and he let his
breath go out again In relief almost in
the act Of catching 1t. He guessed