Jane Allen: Center Part 33

"Oh, yes, I have seen her pictures, and read her name many times lately," Jane followed. "As you say, Mrs. Weatherbee, it will mean everything if we can secure her."

"But I have to go back to that violinist at three, my dear, and Mme.

Nalasky will not be able to appear from her boudoir until two thirty. I wonder if I could leave you here, and go myself to the violinist? Then, if Madam appears you might make the preliminary appeal. I hate to leave it to you, but I feel you would have a better chance with her than with the other, and I cannot be in both places at the same time."

"Oh, I shall be glad to try, Mrs. Weatherbee," a.s.sented Jane, rather glad indeed at the prospect of a quiet half hour in the luxurious room, in which strangers, properly introduced, daily awaited the presence of the noted singer. "If Madam appears I shall do my best."

Satisfied it was perfectly safe to leave her charge in the room so well peopled with women servants of the prima donna, one a secretary, one evidently a personal maid, and still another a matronly woman who attended to strangers after they had successfully pa.s.sed the hall boy's scrutiny and stereotyped interrogations, Mrs. Weatherbee hurried off for her final word from the elusive violinist.

Jane settled down deeply in her cus.h.i.+ons. But presently she was aware of a stir in the room.

"Madam is ready," briefly announced the secretary, taking the card from the young woman who had been waiting longest.

Jane sat up attentively. The girl with the great fur scarf was ushered into the next room. No one read or s.h.i.+fted about the waiting room now.

Everyone was expectant, and evidently a little excited.

"Oh, if Mrs. Weatherbee is not here!" breathed Jane. Then she tidied up her belongings, and prepared to be ushered in, if that good fortune came her way next.

She must plead for Wellington. And perhaps she would be able to do so more effectively than she had supposed. The girl with the fur scarf and great bundle of music was coming out smiling. Her interview had been satisfactory, Jane guessed, and very likely it had to do with a musical ambition. Jane hoped so.

Her own card was in her hand when the secretary approached. That functionary took it with a pleasant nod and disappeared. Jane felt just a little nervous. She had secretly hoped Mrs. Weatherbee would appear in time for the interview.

"Miss Allen!" called the attendant, and Jane self-consciously followed into the sanctum.

The soft luxury of the room was almost lost upon Jane, so intent was she on her mission, and so fascinated was her gaze by the living picture sitting in the small mahogany chair. This was Mme. Nalasky. She smiled so frankly as Jane approached, the latter's embarra.s.sment was swept away in her all-embracing welcome.

"Oh, my dear little girl," spoke the noted singer, with a distinctly foreign accent. "What can I do for you?" After a preliminary word of explanation Jane briefly told of the Golden Jubilee Concert.

"Oh, yes, I have been informed by your honored president. I know of him for many years-that is, quite many." She corrected herself, for one could see the woman was young, and very charming in her blonde, fair beauty.

Jane then attempted to tell of the talent already secured, and being somewhat at a loss to guarantee, as yet, anything like a brilliant array, to support so noted an artist as Mme. Nalasky, she ventured to suggest that a young girl at college would play the violin, and Jane declared further, this young girl was quite a promising artist.

In this Madam was at once interested. "I always like to hear of the young stars," she said. "Sometimes a very little star comes out wonderfully when all the cobwebs in her sky have been cleared away."

Thus encouraged, Jane unfolded quite a story of Helen's achievement.

Then she remembered the _Bugle_. Therein had been expressed a view of Helen's ability, better than Jane could hope to recount, so without a thought, other than that to benefit the concert, Jane drew from her bag the copy of the _Bugle_, with its bewildering arraignment of Helen's power.

The artist glanced at the little sheet with polite but indifferent interest. Jane felt, for a moment, she had made a mistake in offering so humble a testimonial. Then suddenly the prima donna sat erect. Her eyes showed intense interest. Her long, wonderfully tapering fingers seemed to clutch the much-abused little _Bugle_ with an intensity at once strange and foreign to the occasion.

"Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed. "Tell me what is this? Who is this little artist?" and she glared at Jane as if trying to obtain in that fixed gaze some explanation of the lines she had just read.

"Why!" faltered Jane. "She is a little freshman-who is at Wellington.

She is a very great friend of mine."

"But tell me about her!" begged the woman, actually seizing Jane's hands. "What does she look like? What is her real name? Do you know?

Please tell me quickly."

Jane now saw the prima donna was laboring under some great strain and excitement. So apparent was her agitation the secretary, who had remained at a respectful distance during the interview, hastened to the side of her mistress.

"Oh, pray, what is it, Madam?" she asked in alarm. "Why such excitement?"

"But, Marie, you cannot know!" gasped the artist. "This is more to me than life itself. Oh, what if it should be--" she hesitated. "Little lady!" she again directly addressed Jane. "Can you tell me just what the Polish girl looks like? Has she pretty eyes and pretty hair? And is she a sweet child? Oh, how shall I ever wait to know!"

The intensity of the excitement was proving too much for Madam Nalasky, and Jane ardently wished she had kept the hapless _Bugle_ to herself.

But it was too late now. Besides this, in offering the flattering tribute of Helen's ability to the singer, Jane had a sense of making the artist acquainted with Helen, hoping the light knowledge might some day be of value in her musical career. But now, Madam was almost overcome. Her attendants were quieting her with smelling draughts from a tiny bottle. Jane glanced at the outer door hopefully. If only Mrs.

Weatherbee would appear! What if this lady was erratic, and her suddenly taken a spell? Jane remembered geniuses are apt to be very temperamental.

"I am so sorry," she said quietly to a maid. "I hope I have not upset Madam?"

"Oh, no, my dear. It is not the upset, but the joy, the hope. How shall I know! Can you not tell me what your friend looks like?" This from Madam.

Again the singer was on her feet confronting Jane. For a moment Jane fixed her eyes on the beautiful face, then she exclaimed:

"Oh, Madam! I think she looks like you."

With a great swirling embrace Jane was actually swept into the singer's arms. Strong emotion, always a characteristic of such temperaments, was now completely swaying the artist. Jane, abashed and disconcerted, sensed the depth of the emotion, and guessed the ident.i.ty of Helka Podonsky was very near to the heart of this handsome woman.

At that moment the appearance of Mrs. Weatherbee at the door brought welcome relief from the confusion and excitement. Jane quickly made known Mrs. Weatherbee's connection with the jubilee concert, and Mme.

Nalasky turned all her attention now to questioning the directress.

After a very storm of inquiries concerning Helen and her whereabouts before coming to Wellington had been heaped upon the directress, Madam finally begged leave to go to the college at once.

"But!" protested her secretary, "Madam! Your most important concert this evening! It is a benefit, you remember, Madam! and they especially wish you to sing."

"Oh, Marie, you do not know, and I cannot at present say how very much this means to me. This is my own grand benefit, and I, Nalasky, who have given always gladly to others, now claim something for myself. My understudy must take the concert. I could not close my eyes again, until I have seen this wonder child. Ah, my dear lady," to Mrs.

Weatherbee, who was too surprised for utterance at the turn affairs had taken. "I feel this young girl, Miss Allen, has been an agent of kind Providence. She has protected this child from a wild and treacherous world," and again Madam took refuge in her pillows, sobbing and smiling alternately.

Realizing that nothing could deter her, the attendants put themselves to the task of preparing for a hasty departure of their distinguished mistress, and when Jane and Mrs. Weatherbee took their places in the Lake Sh.o.r.e train that afternoon, it was in a luxurious and exclusive private compartment, reserved at the request of Mme. Nalasky, their companion on the journey.

Immediately upon entraining, Madam was tucked into her couch by the faithful Marie, who could scarcely restrain from open rebellion, that Madam should so exhaust herself, to the danger of her marvellous voice.

To these commands the singer reluctantly consented, although it was clear she would have much preferred taking Mrs. Weatherbee and Jane.

"Oh, Mrs. Weatherbee," breathed Jane, alone once more with her director. "Isn't it too strange for words!"

"Like a fairy story, my dear, but stories follow some people and I fancy they have a liking for you." She was in splendid humor and the very best of spirits, in spite of her hard day spent at collecting talent for the concert.

"Whatever will Helen say?" Jane could not help wondering aloud.

"We have a pleasant scene ahead of us," answered Mrs. Weatherbee smilingly.

"And the little paper-to think it was through that article this has really come about," further mused Jane.

"Oh, no, my dear. You would have found this through one means if not another. True, the _Bugle_ served-but you operated it." Mrs. Weatherbee insisted upon being complimentary.

"And I feel, Mrs. Weatherbee," Jane ventured further, "if this all comes out beautifully, we ought to forgive Marian. After all, she gave out the news that did the-that worked the miracle."

"Well, poor Marian is of the cla.s.s bound to get into trouble, but I shall be very glad indeed if we can find some extenuating circ.u.mstance for her latest offence." She was good natured to the point of indulgence.

"But, don't you think, Mrs. Weatherbee, the very fact that this seems to be providential makes a claim for Marian?" Jane was very cautious now. She did not mean to appear dictatorial to her superior.