Beatrix Randolph

Copyright bt Amemcam Press Associatio, Within the next few days everybody ia New York could quote a more or less -anthoritative opinión as to the merite of Mlle. Maraña; for the guests at the Dinsmores' dinner and reception had been so selected that their various reporte could reach all sections of polite society. The verdict on the part of both sexes was almost universally favorable, and every one consequently made preparations to extend f urther invitations to her. The only notcworthy tüssentient voice was that of Mrs. Bright, who affinned that the great prima donn was underbred and presuming. Even this critic, however, admitted that she had redeeuiing traite. "In her proper place she is very well. She is a professional singer; and, though he is very professional, she ia really a Very good singer, too." Mr. Barclyffe, the amateur composer, ■oontribnted an able article to a leading joumal, in wliich he attempted to asign Mlle. Maraña her place among the ;great singers of the last forty years. "To the culture, the vivacity, and the subtlety of the present," he wrote, "our Russian guest unites the training, the Imowledge, and the solidity of the past. Üooted in the soil of the best traditions ■of her predecessors, the flower of her jgenius blossoms in the new sunshine of Itoday. The grandeur and dignity of lier method are vivified and sweetened by rare personal charms of manner, and "by that seeming artlessness of execution which is the finest triumph of art. Eer appearance among us is another proof , not only of the reputation which ■we of the western world have attained of being the final tribunal in matters cf musical tast and judgment, but of 'the great fact that real genius is always xinique. "Mlle. Msrana recalls no other singer; he is herself! and to say this is (as those ■who have heard her wül testify) to pay her the highest compliment. She does Mot accentuate an epoch - ehe makes one. Of her dramatic capaoities we have yet to judge, but simple and unassuming as is her hearing in private society it is easy for the initiated to discern in the grace, eff ectiveness and precisión of her gestares and carriage the resulte of that long training upon the stage and command of its resources which alone can make the j poetry of movement a second nature, j Our only misgiving is," added the writer, "that the ordinary repertoire of operas may fail to afford Mlle. Maraña an adequate opportunity for the manifestation of her powers. While yielding to none ! in our reverence and admiration for the operatic productions of the great composers, from Mozart to Wagner, we may be permitted to wish that some new work might be forthcoming, essentially modern in ite scope and quality, and thereby answering more completely to the reqniremente of modem culture. It would indeed be a matter of congratulation "were such a work to claim an American ■origin!" Those who knew the authorship of this article made merry over the perora■tion, and inquired archly whether Barclyffe had at last found somebody capable of appreciating his musical accoinipliahments. But by the majority it was -accepted with becoming docility; and 'the impresario, it is needless to say, 'was enchanted with it. The allusions io he Marana's familiarity with the stag were especially grateful to him. T11 just teil you how it is," he said to Jocelyn; "you play off a little game on the public, and you feel nervous because there's one or two weak pointe in it. Well, ár, by Júpiter! those weak pointe are just the very ones the public swallows the quickesfc. Now, here's this girl -she can sing; we all know that; but she's a born American, and she's never been on the stage. Well, sir, there was -old Lncretia March at the dinner, who said she could hardly understand her on account of her Russian accent; and now Barclyffe comes out and swears she must have been born behind the footlights! The next thing1!! be we shall have some ■woman turning np and vowing the Maraña has run off with her husband and a hundred thousand dollars!" "Are you aware, Moses," inquired his friend, "that Wallie Dinsmore has seen the real woman in Vienna, and knows this one to be a frand?' The general set down the cocktail with which he was about to celébrate his good fortune. "Are you lying, or what's the matten1" he demande.d brusquely. "I had it from the man himself, you -old blackguard," rejoined the other com.posedly. Jloeshe know who this one is?" I "ITSe doesnTEëproEabIywin bèfore long." The general reflected. At last he said: "Well, I ain't scared. What should he make a row for? It ain't going to hurt him. and what's more, he's taken up the girl hiinself . It may tickle him to find out the facts, but he ain't a fellow to talk. If it was you, now, I might want to buy you off; but he's another sort." And G-en. Inigo tossed off his cocktail with renewed serenity. "I'll bet you you're mistaken," said Jocelyn. "I don't bet with you, my good friend," replied the impresario, shaking his head and chnckling sardonically. 'Til teil you what I will do, though," he added, after a moment. He took from his pockets a check book and a Mackinnon pen, and wrote a check, which he showed to Jocelyn. It was $10,000, and was drawn to Jocelyn's order. "Yon can have that check," said Inigo, "and be fingering the bank notes in half an hour from now, on one condition." "Go on," said Jocelyn. "On condition that you take yourself out of the whole business, and leave me to deal with the girl direct. It's a damned shame, by Júpiter, that you should be putting 30 per cent. of her inoney into your pocket every time she sings, and making her think I pay her that much less than I do. Til buy you out for $10,000, cash down, today, and take the risk of her bursting up, and everything else. Pm talking money, that's what Fin doing; and there it is! Will you do it?" "You may go to the devil!" said Jocelyn, pushing back the check book, though not without an effort. 'Til have you to know that money's not the only thing Fm after. I've got my own views about the girl, and m manage the business my own way." The impresario detached the check from the book, and having rolled it into an allumette lit his cigar with it. "That's all right," said he, crushing the burnt renmant under his foot, "only don't you talk to me no more about betting! I know a man when I clap eyes on him, and I know a woman, too, and I guess youil have time to grow to be a bigger rascal than you are before you rope in my prima donna! She's meet for your betters, my boy, and they're not f ar to look for!" Jocelyn contrived to maintain a contemptuously indifferent demeanor, but it is certain that whoever made money out of the impresario was obliged to earn it in one way or another. Meanwhile Miss Beatris Randolph, or the Maraña, as all the world now called her, was in more cheerful spirits than she had been before her reception at the Dinsmores. She liked the Dinsmores; she was inclined to like almoet everybody. She tried to take a charitable view even of the young gentlemen in high shirt collars who complimented her so badly, and said things which she knew were witty only because they laughed at them. She reflected that she knew nothing of the freemasonry of modern society, and that probably the young gentlemen inteaded only to be polite and entertaining. Mrs. Bemax, when appealed to on the subject, said they - Mr. ■ Witman and the rest of them - were j wealthy and well connected, and that it was desirable for a lady connected with the stage to cultívate their acquaintance. "A little social relaxation is an excellent thing for you, my dear mademoiselle," declared this worthy lady, "and ! a capital way to get rid of that little frigidity and stiffness you have brought with you from the country. Ladies connected with the stage nave to work hard, but, en revanche, they are allowed more freedom in social intercourse than other people. It will be quite proper for you to let Mr. Witman drive you home from rehearsal in his brougham if I am along, or even without me at a pinch. All the others do it. You will not let him take any liberties, of course; but don't betray any timidity: he wouldn't understand it." "It is one thing for me to do as I like," replied mademoiselle, "and another thing for me to let other people do as they like. I don't mean to be stiff , but there is no reason why I should be bothered either." "It will be no bother when you are used to it," Mrs. Bemax replied; but at the time she did not advocate her view any farther. The finishing touches were being put to the theatre, and Geoffrey Bellingham was constantly on hand to oversee the work; consequently he and the prima donna must needs meet occasionally. He said very little to her, and was generally vexy busy when she might have entered into conversation with him; but she had an impression that he kept his eyes upon her often when she was not looking at him; and his appearance at the theatre was generally coincident with the hour of her rehearsals. One day after she had been singing a grand scène very effectively she happened to catch his eye in the stage box, where he stood leaning against the curtained partition, abstractedly knottdng and unknotting a piece of tape. His gaze was so earnest, and at the same time so melancholy, that the prima donna, obeying an impulse that was partly cnriosity, but partly something else, went round to the box when the scène was over, and met him as he was coming out. "How unhappy you looked!" she said. "Was anything wrong?" He stared at her for a moment, and said ironically, "Oh, you're a great artiste!" i "I mean to be," she answered smiling. "A great actréss, tooP T shöuiJ" liTe to see you when you are yourself." "I vru myself now," replied Mlle. Maraña. Then slie remeinbered that Bhe was not telling the whole truth, and blushed and looked down. "Then you must be a remarkable woman! But you probably don't know that you always appear to me like a fresh and innocent American girl. I can't see anything foreign or - stagey in your talk or manners. Extremes meet, I suppose, and, like Paul, you are alí things to all men." This speech made the young diva f eel that the world was very wide and very cruel, and tears carne into her eyes. She was alone; there was no one to answer for her or to protect her. She would not have mindd so much what most people thought of her, but it would have been a great comfort to her if this man, at any rate, had by some divine f aculty of visión been able to see through the disguise that veiled her from the rest of the world. He did see through it; but he did not believe what he saw. He thought that his discovery was her deception, and the more she was frank ! and simple, the more she was her real self, the less would he believe in her. It was a dilemma between intuition and reason; and, with a man of the world, reason, in such cases, is apt to have the best of it. It would have been easy for the prima donna to have enlightened him, and under certain circumstances she might have been tempted to do so. But now it was a matter of pride to her, if nothing else, to say no word that could lead him to infer that his sympathy was anything to her on e way or the other. But she was at liberty to resent an insult, and she feit that to do so would help her to preserve her composure. "You probably don't know, sir," she said, imitating his phrase, "that to cali even an opera singer the extreme opposite of fresh and innocent is not polite. I am not so contemptible a thing to all men as I seem to be to yon!" "It was a brutal thing to say, and I did not mean it," he replied in a low voice. "But I can't say what I wish to you. There's no middle way." And before she could make up her mind what this meant he passed by her and walked heavily away down the corridor. The prima donna feil into a deep and not altogether painful revery. She ! ed herself on a bench behind the scènes and followed out her mnsings with her chin on her hand, The rehearsal was going forward in front, the duets, the quartets and the choruses, but she was lost in thought. "There's no middle way." What was in his mind - in his heart - when he said that? There had been something very potent in his eyes, that she was sure of. What eyes he had! What a stern, resolute face, with nothing mean or commonplace in it! He was not like the others, either in aspect or in manner. His very carelessness and roughness were more high bred than their best behavior. Though he might go among other men, he would always be apart from them; he was lonely, like herself, but, unlike hers, his was a voluntary and a noble loneliness. And he despised her because - because some other woman was despicable! That was unjust, and yet perhaps there was inadvertent justice in il. Perhaps, if he knew the truth, he would despise her no less on other grounds. But again there was some other feeling beside contempt at work within him. What could that be? The girl raised her head slightly, with a doubtful, musing smile on her lips. There was a stealthy step behind her which she did not hear until it was close upon her. Then suddenly a pair of hands were pressed over her eyes, and her head was drawn back. For a moment she was too much amazed to resist; besides, she thonght it must be - could not but be - some one who had a right to treat her so - her father, or even her brother Ed; no stranger would dare! Any impossibüity was more poesible than that. The next moment she feit kisses on her cheek and mouth - clumsy, offensive kisses. She was not a screaming woman, but she gave a passionate outcry of disgust, twisted herself free, and sprang to her feet. The offender stood bef ore her, evidently not at all convinced of the enormity of his outrage. His visagewaswrinkled into a waggish laugh, which he seemed to expect the prima donnato join. It had already been made apparent to her that the man had been drinking, but the mist of wrath in her eyes kept her for an instant from recognizing in him the newly engaged musical director, Herr Plotowski. She feit that if she had had a weapon in her hand she could have killed him on the spot. And he was laughing! "Aha! my beautiful ma'm'selle! I catch you fair dat timer he exclaiined jovially. "Oh 1 dose beautiful lips! I haf often. long to salute dem!" "If yoiTever come near me or speafc to me again" - began the prima donna; but she checked herself. She would not condescend even to threaten such a wretch. Besides, what power had she to carry a threat into execution? Herr Plotowski had been engaged at great expense; he was considered a valuable acquisition. No one could lead an orchestra more ably than he. If she complained of him her complaint would be put off or disregarded; nor could she bring herself to confide the outrage to a man like Gen. Inigo. He would be sure to laugh, and answer with some coarse, good humored jest. In this new world she had entered into everybody seeined to make a jest of everything. There was no one to defend her; she must submit if she could not defend herself. But, as her glance feil upon Herr Plotowski, she told herself she would rather die than submit to such anflther insult. Her passionare ïnilignation must have made itself perceptible through the callous hide of the director, fortified though he was by whisky. The wrinkled laugh gradually faded from his countenance, and gave place to an expression of absurd solemnity and irritation. "You be angry dat I kiss you, eh?" he cried in a harsh voice. "Let me teil you, ina'nrsello, I kiss all ze ladies vot sing by me. Zey dake it as compliment; iL not. L make_it_ verse. for zem eh? Plotowski kiss alPIie pleasë, andTdat all right, ain't it? You ask ze general, and you find outl Now den!" And he stalked away haughtily. This incident would perhaps have affected her somewhat less poignantly if it had not occurred immediately after her interview with Bellingham, and while her thoughts were full of him. The revulsión was almost unendurable, and made her feel as if the pollution could never be removed. Her bosom heaved, and bitter tears ran down her face. A woman is helpless enough at best, but she more than the rest, because she was fighting under a false name and reputation. Nevertheless, she could not retreat now nor give up the battle. She knew that br father had incurred pecnnipjy obhgations to Inigo which could only be repaid through her. Berides, should she let her career be destroyed at the outset because a creature like Plotowski had insulted hef? Should she not rather persevere until she had won such position and snch power as Bhould enable her to prolect herself against all the world? There was a proud, unconquered spirit in her, which asserted itself in her forlornness and distress more than it had ever done in her security and happiness. And, after all, she was not without friends. At the worst she could apply to her father; and then there was Hamüton Jocelyn, who, although rathef worldly and absurd, was really a good man, with her interests at heart, as was proved by bis having obtained for her this splendid engagement, and there was Mr. Dinsmore, who seemed kindly and a gentleman; and Mr. Barclyffe, who had written all that praise of her in the newspaper; and there, too, was Gteoffrey Bellingham; whatever his opinión of her might be, she did rot beíieve that he would have stood by and allowed Herr Plotowski to insult her. No; things were not so hopeless, after all. Mme. Beniax had been ont to make a few parchases on Broadway. She now returned, carrying her little bundies by loops in the strings that tied them. She hoped mademoiselle had not been delayed or inconvenienced. Mademoiselle replied that she had not been delayed; but something prevented her from telling Mme. Bemax about the adventure with tïie director. She feared madame would say something ahout the benefits of a little social relaxation and about getting used to it; and she did rot wish to feel an aversión toward the good lady, who was in many respecta agreeable to her. So she held her peace and hid her secrets in her heart; but she could not forget them.