"You evidently didn't come to work today," said he with a careless, fleeting glance at the _grande toilette_."But we are prepared against such tricks.Garvey, take her down to the rear dressing-room and have the maid lay her out a simple costume." To Susan, "Be as quick as you can." And he seated himself at his desk and was reading and signing letters.
Susan, crestfallen, followed Garvey down the stairway.She had confidently expected that he would show some appreciation of her toilette.She knew she had never in her life looked so well.In the long glass in the dressing-room, while Garvey was gone to send the maid, she inspected herself again.
Yes--never anything like so well.And Brent had noted her appearance only to condemn it.She was always telling herself that she wished him to regard her as a working woman, a pupil in stagecraft.But now that she had proof that he did so regard her, she was depressed, resentful.However, this did not last long.While she was changing to linen skirt and shirtwaist, she began to laugh at herself.How absurd she had been, thinking to impress this man who had known so many beautiful women, who must have been satiated long ago with beauty--she thinking to create a sensation in such a man, with a simple little costume of her own crude devising.She reappeared in the studio, laughter in her eyes and upon her lips.Brent apparently did not glance at her; yet he said, "What's amusing you?"She confessed all, on one of her frequent impulses to candor--those impulses characteristic both of weak natures unable to exercise self-restraint and of strong natures, indifferent to petty criticism and misunderstanding, and absent from vain mediocrity, which always has itself--that is, appearances--on its mind.She described in amusing detail how she had planned and got together the costume how foolish his reception of it had made her feel."I've no doubt you guessed what was in my head," concluded she."You see everything.""I did notice that you were looking unusually well, and that you felt considerably set up over it," said he."But why not?
Vanity's an excellent thing.Like everything else it's got to be used, not misused.It can help us to learn instead of preventing.""I had an excuse for dressing up," she reminded him."You said we were to dine together.I thought you wouldn't want there to be too much contrast between us.Next time I'll be more sensible.""Dress as you like for the present," said he."You can always change here.Later on dress will be one of the main things, of course.But not now.Have you learned the part?"And they began.She saw at the far end of the room a platform about the height of a stage.He explained that Garvey, with the book of the play, would take the other parts in _Lola's_scenes, and sent them both to the stage."Don't be nervous,"Garvey said to her in an undertone."He doesn't expect anything of you.This is simply to get started." But she could not suppress the trembling in her legs and arms, the hysterical contractions of her throat.However, she did contrive to go through the part--Garvey prompting.She knew she was ridiculous; she could not carry out a single one of the ideas of "business" which had come to her as she studied;she was awkward, inarticulate, panic-stricken.
"Rotten!" exclaimed Brent, when she had finished."Couldn't be worse therefore, couldn't be better."She dropped to a chair and sobbed hysterically.
"That's right--cry it out," said Brent."Leave us alone, Garvey."Brent walked up and down smoking until she lifted her head and glanced at him with a pathetic smile."Take a cigarette," he suggested."We'll talk it over.Now, we've got something to talk about."She found relief from her embarrassment in the cigarette.
"You can laugh at me now," she said."I shan't mind.In fact, I didn't mind, though I thought I did.If I had, I'd not have let you see me cry.""Don't think I'm discouraged," said Brent."The reverse.You showed that you have nerve a very different matter from impudence.Impudence fails when it's most needed.Nerve makes one hang on, regardless.In such a panic as yours was, the average girl would have funked absolutely.You stuck it out.Now, you and I will try _Lola's_ first entrance.No, don't throw away your cigarette._Lola_ might well come in smoking a cigarette." She did better.What Burlingham had once thoroughly drilled into her now stood her in good stead, and Brent's sympathy and enthusiasm gave her the stimulating sense that he and she were working together.They spent the afternoon on the one thing--_Lola_ coming on, singing her gay song, her halt at sight of _Santuzza_ and _Turiddu_, her look at _Santuzza_, at _Turiddu_, her greeting.for each.They tried it twenty different ways.They discussed what would have been in the minds of all three.They built up "business" for _Lola_, and for the two others to increase the significance of _Lola's_ actions.
"As I've already told you," said he, "anyone with a voice and a movable body can learn to act.There's no question about your becoming a good actress.But it'll be some time before I can tell whether you can be what I hope--an actress who shows no sign that she's acting."Susan showed the alarm she felt."I'm afraid you'll find at the end that you've been wasting your time," said she.
