Peggy suddenly realized what she meant. Alison was disappointed that Chris had asked Peggy instead of her. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she thought wearily, “how could Alison possibly be upset over a little thing like a game of Ping-pong!” When a group of people lived so closely together, Peggy was beginning to realize, little things could cause undue friction. A word or a glance could be magnified out of all proportion. Hadn’t she even been a little guilty of that herself when Alison had criticized her performance?
“Your serve, Miss Lane,” Chris reminded her. “Where are you anyway—off in a dream?”
“Yes,” Peggy smiled, “I guess I was!” She couldn’t help observing how handsome Chris was with his wonderful tan and his blond hair gleaming in the sun. He did look like a movie star, and several people stopped to watch them play together. Peggy felt almost ashamed to realize that she was proud to be seen with him. “And a minute ago you were condemning Alison for the same thing!” she chided herself fiercely. “I think it’s about time you had a long talk with yourself, Peggy Lane!” She slammed the ball hard, and it hit the far corner of the table, out of Chris’s reach.
“Good play!” he cried. “That’s it.”
“Who won?” Peggy asked. She hadn’t even noticed.
“You don’t deserve to know,” he grinned. “You’re off on a cloud somewhere. Come on, ingénue, let’s go for a walk.”
They strolled through the lovely grounds, finding that one winding path led to another even more charming. Most of the landscaping was designed to offer the best possible view of the lake, and Peggy felt actively envious watching the boats dart back and forth like large birds.
“I’ve wanted to tell you, Peggy,” Chris said as they sat down on a large rock that jutted out over the water, “what fun it is working with you. So far I’m enjoyingFor Love or Moneymore than any other play we’ve done. It means more to me than just a play,” Chris went on seriously. “I feel that we do awfully well together—in almost anything.” He stopped, looking at her intently as Peggy caught her breath. She didn’t know what to say. Finally, a moment later, she tremulously suggested that they had better get back to dinner.
“Dinner!” Chris exclaimed with humorous disgust. “At a time like this, with romance in the very air around you! Honestly, Peggy, you’re enough to try anybody’s patience!”
Peggy wished with all her might that she knew what her real feelings were in regard to Chris. It was all so confusing, she thought, as they found their way back to the dining room through the maze of pathways.
Dinner was a sumptuous affair and a refreshing change from the good but rather plain food at Mrs. Brady’s.
“Cheddar cheese soup!” Michael Miller peered at his bowl like a hungry owl. “Haven’t seen this since Dad took me to New York last year!”
“Personally, I prefer turtle Madeira,” Alison said languidly, taking a few sips of the delicious broth.
“Listen to the prima donna,” Chris whispered to Peggy. “She was fine as long as she had all the leads, but now wait and see. For the rest of next week she’ll be impossible. I know—I’ve seen it happen before.”
“But I thought you liked her,” Peggy said softly. She had decided she might as well find out how things stood between Chris and Alison.
“I do,” Chris answered, slightly surprised, “I like her a lot. She’s a very good actress.”
Thoughtfully, Peggy wondered if Chris judged people by their acting ability—if that was the basis of his sudden pronounced interest in her. Peggy was very conscious of his presence beside her as they finished dinner together.
Charley’s Auntwas riotously received by the Lake Manor audience. The actors had to be unusually alert to restrict their movements sufficiently to work on the smaller stage. There were several times when Peggy, almost bumping into another player, came close to breaking up and laughing out loud. And when an angry bee somehow found his way on stage and got lost in the tea things, all the cast had a difficult time controlling themselves. Microphones were suspended overhead to overcome the poor acoustics in the hall, and the buzz of the bee came loud and clear over the actors’ voices. The audience loved it! They roared and applauded when the bee finally made a grand exit over their heads and out the rear door.
Weak with laughter, Peggy made her way back toward the tiny, dark dressing room that was stacked with boxes of costumes and props. The hall was usually reserved for the individual comedy acts that the Manor booked for its guests.
“I’m sure they think we’re just another variation on the same theme!” Peggy giggled. “That silly bee! He sounded like a dive bomber!”
“They loved it!” Chris cried exuberantly, whirling Peggy around in the small hall. Chris was always like this after a show, Peggy noticed. Excited and gay and ready to go on for the rest of the night.
“Miss Lane?” one of the stagehands called to her. “There’s someone outside to see you.”
“Aha!” Chris intoned dramatically. “An admirer, no doubt. Come along, Peggy—take me to your stage-door Johnny and I’ll protect you!” Laughing, they stepped out of the door into the courtyard of the building.
“Peggy!” A tall, lanky, redheaded boy grinned down at her, stretching out both hands in greeting.
“Randy Brewster!” Peggy cried, “Randy—of all people! Well, how on earth—why—how did you—oh, Randy!” She was so excited and pleased that she stuttered.
“I loved the show,” Randy declared happily, hugging her, “and I was so surprised to see you down here at the Manor! I thought I’d have to wait to surprise you up at the theater.”
“Oh, Chris,”—Peggy remembered him—“I’d like you to meet a very dear friend of mine—I met him when I started in dramatic school. This is Randy Brewster—Chris Hill.”
“How nice,” Chris said shortly, his exuberance gone.
“I certainly enjoyed your performance,” Randy congratulated him. “Very funny. You have a lot of vitality. Hope I’ll do as well here—”
“Oh,” Peggy exclaimed with sudden understanding, “is that why you’re here? The Manor hired you?”
“Yep,” Randy said. “I’ll be here for a week doing a new comedy routine. I hope we’ll be able to see each other often. I was so pleased, Peggy, knowing you’d be in the neighborhood.” He grinned at her with that funny, warm, crooked smile that Peggy remembered so well.
“I’m coming to see your opening day after tomorrow,” Randy went on. “Wouldn’t miss it for anything. I’m glad that I’ll be here while you’re playing a lead.”
“Are you familiar with the play?” Chris interrupted suddenly.
“No,” Randy said with a smile, “but that will make it even more fun.”
“Well,” Chris said mysteriously, “I don’t know how much fun it will be for you, but you should certainly find it interesting! You’re familiar with the old saying, ‘All’s fair in love and war’?” He flashed a teasing smile at Randy. “Well, we’ll look forward to seeing you, Mr. Brewster—yes, indeed!”
Chris left them gaping after him while Randy shook his head. “That’s a strange fellow,” he puzzled. “He’s very charming, but I’d swear that he doesn’t like me one little bit! I wonder why! What have you been up to, Peggy?”
He looked at her curiously while Peggy wondered if things could conceivably get any more complicated! She had been so happy to see a friend from New York—and especially Randy. Now, she realized suddenly, she would have to play her big lead with the knowledge that Randy was in the audience, watching her and Chris. “Well,” she thought, shivering slightly, “that will be quite an experience!”
Peggy sat at her dressing table applying her make-up carefully. For the first time this summer she had to be just as beautiful as possible with no little tricks or different hair styles for characterization. This time she could look just like Peggy, only more so. After she had put on the gown she wore for her entrance, she combed out her thick, glowing hair that had grown in the past few weeks until it just touched her shoulders. It framed her face in soft waves, and as she looked at herself in the mirror, she was pleased.
“You look absolutely lovely, Peggy,” Rita said, “dreamy, in fact. I think the audience will go into a tail spin—to say nothing of your friend Randy.”
The minute she mentioned his name, Peggy’s knees began to shake. “Here I go again,” she said nervously. “Opening night! Clammy hands and butterflies!”
“Well, don’t worry about it,” Rita said gently. “It’s only because you’re doing a lead. It’ll go away.”
But privately, Peggy wasn’t so sure. Was she nervous because of the play or Randy in the audience? “Oh, I wish he hadn’t told me,” Peggy thought desperately. “Now I’ll be thinking of him out there—”
“Five minutes!” Gus called, and Peggy made her way to the wings.
“Break a leg, leading lady,” Chris whispered as he walked by, “and don’t worry about a thing.” He grinned at her encouragingly and Peggy thought again what a wonderful person Chris was. She wished he hadn’t teased Randy in that manner, but then Chris did everything all the way. No half measures for him! Peggy watched him close his eyes for a moment, getting into character and collecting his energy. Chris would be good, Peggy had no doubt. “And what about me?” she wondered. “I hope I can concentrate and not be distracted by my own private thoughts.”
“Curtain!” The play had begun.
Peggy didn’t make her entrance until the second scene of Act One. Now she wished that she had stayed in her dressing room instead of watching from the wings. By the time she walked on she was more nervous than ever, but fortunately, Janet was supposed to be in an excited state, too. Peggy was just beginning to relax and feel comfortable, timing her laugh—when the phone didn’t ring on cue!
Peggy looked at Chris and Chris looked at Peggy. There was dead silence for a moment. Something must have gone wrong with the phone bell or, worse, someone had forgotten! They couldn’t go on, either, until it rang. The call was necessary to the action.
“Well”—Peggy plunged in with an improvisation—“I’ve heard of sea gulls that are supposed to be angels of ships at sea.” Preston and Janet had just been talking about gulls—perhaps they could continue until the phone rang. But Chris didn’t pick it up. He looked perfectly blank, and Peggy read in his eyes that desperation that means an actor is completely at a loss. In theater terms, Chris had “gone up”—higher than a kite.
“I think there was an article about sea gulls in theReader’s Digest,” Peggy ad libbed valiantly while Chris stayed silent as a tomb. If only he would come back a little and help her out! Peggy got up from the couch and strolled around the room as if seeing it for the first time. If she could disappear in the wings for a moment, she might be able to signal someone. “I hadn’t noticed what a lovely place you have here, Mr. Mitchell,” she went on, making her way upstage to the hall. “Is this the way to the kitchen?” She was out in the hall now and disappeared for a moment, waving her hand frantically in the wings.
Chris suddenly came to life and realized what she was doing. “Why, don’t tell me you’re hungry,” he called after her. “But if you want to snoop around—go ahead.”
“I’m not snooping!” Peggy reappeared for a second. This was better—at least they were improvising in character. “I’m just naturally curious, that’s all.” She disappeared again, desperately whispering, “Sst—sst—where’s the phone?”
Michael signaled her that they were working on it, the battery was dead! “Well, use the doorbell then—anything!” Peggy whispered. She came back on stage, her ingenuity giving out—but there it was, the ring! Chris dived for the receiver. Gus had used the doorbell but they managed to cover well enough and finished the first act with relief.
“Whew!” Chris said when the curtain closed. “Thanks a lot for pulling me through, Peggy. When that bell didn’t ring, I blew completely. First time that’s happened in ages.”
“You were wonderful, Peggy,” Rita said. “I don’t think the audience noticed a thing!”
“Gosh, I’m sorry.” Gus came up apologetically. “We should have used the doorbell right away instead of tinkering with the phone. That was quick thinking, Peggy.”
“So I did have my mind on my work after all!” Peggy thought happily. “How silly of me to worry about it.”
But as the play progressed to the last act where Preston finally embraces Janet, Peggy was amazed to find that the simple scene had suddenly acquired enormous value. All she could think of was Randy out in the audience! As they took their curtain calls she looked anxiously for him, wondering what he was thinking.
“Terrific!” Randy congratulated her with a friendly hug when he came backstage. “You were funny and wonderful and perfect and you looked like a vision!”
“Why don’t you introduce me, Peggy?” Alison asked as she came by. “This must be your famous friend—”
“Randolph Clark Brewster,” Peggy said gaily, relieved that Randy had taken the play as a play. “He’s a wonderful comedian, but his heart isn’t in it. He wants to be a playwright.”
“Really!” Alison drawled. “You aren’t related to the Brewsters of Long Island by any chance?”
Randy frowned and sent an appealing look to Peggy. He hated anyone to know about his wealthy family as he was trying his best to be successful on his own. “Well, uh, yes,” he muttered reluctantly. “Look, Peggy, change your things, and let’s go out for a snack. This is my night off and I want to make the most of it!”
“I always did like that strong, silent type,” Alison said as they entered the dressing room, “and besides having that wonderful face and red hair, he comes from a very prominent family. I don’t blame you for leaving Chris in the lurch for your old friend.” The barb sank in, and Alison’s contrived innocent smile did nothing to relieve it.
“Well,” Peggy thought miserably as she took off her make-up, “if people can’t understand a thing like friendship, then let them think whatever they like!”
“Hey, open up, Peggy.” Peggy got up to open the door and saw Bill Slade standing there. “You were great, Peggy. You’ll have to do another lead this summer. Want to go out for some coffee?” He smiled, accepting her silence as consent.
“Peggy—a small tribute to a great leading lady!” It was Chris, and he handed her a huge bouquet of roses with an elegantly mocking little bow. “But let’s eat. I’m famished.”
“That’s a really fine set,” Randy commented, returning from a tour of the stage. “Are you ready yet?”
Peggy hastily excused herself and closed the door while the three boys waited in the hall, each assuming that she was his special date for the evening.
The three boys waited in the hall
Rita looked at Peggy’s perplexed expression with undisguised amusement, finally breaking into laughter. “The only solution, as I found out long ago, is marriage!” she chuckled. “You’d better start thinking about it, Peggy!”
“That is the last thing in the world I’m going to think about—for a long time!” Peggy said emphatically. She picked up her bag and sighed heavily, wondering how to handle the situation.
Alison was grimly combing her hair and putting her make-up away. “I don’t blame her for feeling left out,” Peggy thought. “Playing a lead does seem to make a difference in people’s interest—although it shouldn’t. And taking a back seat isn’t easy for Alison.” Peggy wondered how Alison would react if she asked her to join them. It would simplify everything, but she mustn’t appear to do it out of kindness.
“Are you ready, Alison?” Peggy asked matter-of-factly.
“Ready for what?” Alison looked up, surprised.
“Why, to go to Mrs. Brady’s or the inn—or wherever we’re going. I think we ought to let the boys decide.” Peggy treated it as if it had been understood from the beginning. “Are you and Gus coming along, too?” she asked Rita.
“I’m sorry, we can’t, Peggy. We have to go over the prop list forYou Can’t Take It with You. It’s a difficult show on the backstage end, and I want to help all I can.”
Peggy nodded. Next week was going to be a challenge for everyone. “Better hurry, Alison,” she said. “We can’t stay out too late. We have an early call tomorrow.”
It worked out just as Peggy had hoped. They went to the inn for sandwiches and Alison attached herself to Chris, leaving Peggy free to enjoy Randy’s company. Bill Slade had a marvelous time with all of them. Alison’s presence prevented Chris from kidding Randy, which, Peggy suspected, Chris would have loved to do. Just once in the evening, when Alison excused herself for a moment, Chris leaned across the table and said, “Say—how’d you like that last act, Randy? Think it was realistic?”
Randy looked from Chris to Peggy and back again. “Well,” he said with a slow smile, “it wasn’t exactly the way I would have played it, a little too theatrical for me. But then, Preston Mitchellwasan actor! I’d be inclined to take that scene too seriously, I’m afraid.” He looked steadily at Peggy and she thought she understood. Randy was telling her that Chris’s interest in her was a professional mood—something she had guessed already. But more important, he was saying that his own feelings went deeper. Peggy felt comforted and secure. Whatever happened with their friendship, it would always be a lasting one. Peggy smiled at him understandingly.
“What’s your play next week, Peggy?” Randy asked.
“You Can’t Take It With You!And it’s going to be a job! We have to use a lot of townspeople because it’s such a large cast—”
“It’s a great show, though,” Chris added enthusiastically.
“And the most awful thing, Randy,” Peggy continued, “is that I won’t be able to see your act down at the Manor.”
“Well, at least you can say good-by.” Randy smiled. “The day you play there is the day I leave.”
“Leave!” Peggy suddenly had an inspiration. “Oh, Randy, why don’t you stay here for another week? We’re going to need so many people inYou Can’t Take It with You—I’m sure Chuck and Richard would love to have you.”
“The Russian!” Alison cried. “Everyone’s been biting their nails, wondering who could play the Russian!”
“Oh, yes, you’d be perfect, Randy,” Peggy urged. “And I’m doing Essie, the little ballerina. We could work together—do say you’ll stay!”
“We-e-ell,” Randy hesitated, “I suppose I don’t have to rush back—”
“You’re absolutely sure?” Chris asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, we wouldn’t want you to miss anything in New York—” He looked at Peggy for a moment, and noticing her pained expression, laughed good-naturedly, leaning across the table to shake Randy’s hand. “Okay. You win, Mr. Brewster! I can’t compete with old school ties and all that. You would be great for the part and we’d love to have you.”
The boys shook hands, grinning at each other, while Peggy looked on, happy and relieved. Chris had evidently decided to “bury the hatchet.”
Alison seemed a little mystified. “What’s going on with you two? You look as though you had a deep, dark secret.”
“Deep, but not dark, Alison,” Chris laughed. “Light as summer. Which reminds me, who knows something good for mosquito bites? They’ve decided all of a sudden that I’m a particularly delectable morsel!”
“Oh, oh, you’ve come to the right place,” Bill Slade offered eagerly. “Take it from an old hand—”
“No, no, I know the best thing of all—” Alison urged.
“But I found something brand-new—” Peggy started, and then everyone laughed, plying Chris with their favorite remedies. Randy promised Peggy that he’d speak to the producers the next day, and the party broke up with happy expectations of next week’s show.
Just as Peggy had expected, the producers were delighted to have Randy stay an extra week and play the Russian ballet teacher, Kolenkhov, inYou Can’t Take It with You. With Randy in the cast and everyone working comfortably together, Peggy couldn’t remember ever having such fun at rehearsals! And what a cast! The play needed so many actors that everyone was pressed into service. Michael Miller and the apprentices all had small parts, Chuck Crosby played the part of Peggy’s father as well as directing, Mr. Miller brought some friends of his to fill in, and even Aunt Hetty was persuaded to play. Mary Hopkins brought a friend to try out for the part of the Grand Duchess. June Tilson was a lovely young girl who turned out to have a really fine talent.
“Where have you been all summer?” Chuck asked when he heard her read for the first time. “We could have used you before!”
“She’s been in hiding,” Mary laughed, “or I would have brought her long ago.”
“I’ve been at the music camp, actually,” June explained. “You know—the group of folk singers who have a summer session nearby.”
“Oh, yes.” Chuck nodded. “We’re giving them the auditorium one night for a benefit performance. Let’s see—it comes during the week ofGuest in the House, I believe.”
“Oh, will I be glad when we do that play!” Alison said. “I love the part!”
“The part of Evelyn?” Chuck asked.
“Yes, I’ve done it before and I can hardly wait to play it again.”
“Don’t count too much on having the same part this time,” Chuck cautioned her. “I’m not sure yet how we’re going to cast the play.”
Alison shrugged. “Well, of course, I’m doing Evelyn,” she commented blithely. “That was one of the reasons I came up here!”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Chuck said firmly. “And now, let’s get to work. By the way, does anyone have an idea on how to handle the fireworks?”
The script ofYou Can’t Take It with Youcalls for a display of fireworks onstage and an explosion offstage during the show. Michael Miller assured Chuck that he could easily take care of it.
“I have a workshop, you know, and it won’t be any trouble—be fun, in fact!”
“You’ll have to be very careful,” his father warned.
“Naturally!” Michael said indignantly.
“And don’t make it too realistic.” Peggy giggled. “Just a loud noise. We don’t want the auditorium down around our heads.”
“That Michael Miller is quite a character,” Randy commented to Peggy during a lull in rehearsal. “He seems so serious and yet sometimes I catch a gleam of sheer mischief under those horn rims. You don’t think he’ll do anything silly with the explosion, do you?”
“Of course not!” Peggy laughed. “Michael’s much too intelligent for that!”
Rehearsals went along as smoothly as could be expected with such a large cast. It was amazing, Peggy thought, that the local people were able to work so professionally with the rest of the company. Aunt Hetty was a delight to watch. She was enjoying herself hugely in her small but important role, and took all the direction that Chuck gave her with the greatest good humor.
“She’s a wonderful sport,” Peggy thought, watching her with amusement, “and I think she really loves this.”
Randy was so good that it seemed as if he might steal the show. It was hard for him, too, playing late at the Manor every night and then rushing to the high school each morning.
“What a schedule!” he sighed. Randy and Peggy were having a picnic lunch on the school grounds together. “But after tonight it will all be over.” It was Randy’s last night at the Manor.
“For you,” Peggy said, “but not for us. Tomorrow we playFor Love or Moneyat the Manor, then comes the dress rehearsal and opening ofYou Can’t Take It, and after that we start on the old-fashioned melodrama. I wish you could be here for that one, too!”
“So do I—” Randy smiled affectionately—“but I really will have to get back to New York soon. Let’s not talk about it now, Peg, we still have a whole week! And you have two more nights as Janet.”
For Love or Moneyhad been the most successful play of the season. People came in droves all week and money flowed into the box office.
“You think it would have happened anyway, after Mr. Birmingham’s review,” Randy told her seriously, “but that isn’t the whole story. I don’t think you realize how good you actually are in that part, Peggy. People are coming to seeyou—I’ve heard the comments around town!”
“Oh, Randy!” Peggy beamed at the delicious compliment. Randy was very cautious with his praise, and coming from him, the words made Peggy doubly happy.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Richard and Chuck gave you another fat lead to do this summer,” Randy went on. “As a matter of fact, they’d be foolish if they didn’t.”
“But there isn’t another lead I could do,” Peggy said, surprised. “There’s just the little part in the melodrama and then, I suppose, the model inGuest in the House—”
“What about Evelyn?” Randy asked, looking at her intently.
“Oh,” Peggy laughed, “that’s Alison’s part. She’s been waiting for it all summer!”
Randy nodded and said nothing while Peggy suddenly remembered what Chuck had said to Alison—not to count on the part. Her heart skipped a beat as she wondered if Chuck had meant that he might give it to her! Oh! Peggy took a deep breath, feeling a little giddy. It just couldn’t happen, it was too good to possibly be true! No, she simply wouldn’t let herself think about it. She looked at Randy and caught him smiling at her.
“Yep,” he agreed with her unspoken thought. “Don’t think about it. You’re quite right. Put it entirely out of your mind!” They laughed happily and went back to rehearsal.
Opening night ofYou Can’t Take It with Youmade a permanent place in the history of Lake Kenabeek. With so many local people in the cast, the auditorium was overflowing with relatives and friends as well as summer guests. It was the best house the theater had had.
Michael Miller arrived with a little package carefully wrapped in cotton wool and asked Chuck where he should set it off.
“Set what off?” Chuck demanded, distracted and intent on getting things settled backstage as well as remembering his own part.
“My Kenabeek Special!” Michael answered. “You know, the explosion.” He hadn’t brought it to dress rehearsal with the explanation that there was only one firecracker. It hadn’t mattered—everyone was too busy to care. At this point, Chuck was crossing his fingers and trusting to luck that everything would turn out all right.
“Is it loud?” Chuck asked hastily.
“Very,” Michael assured him. “At least I hope so—I followed instructions to the letter.”
“What instructions?” Chuck almost yelped. “Didn’t you just make an ordinary firecracker?”
“Good heavens no! You can’t trust those things. This is very special and safe!”
“Well, put it in an ashcan out on the stairs and set it off there. Be sure you’re careful!” Chuck called after him.
“Don’t worry, I will be.”
The play went unbelievably well. None of the props were missing, everyone came in on cue, the action zipped along, the audience was in stitches at the comedy. The end of Act Two approached and Peggy was onstage with Randy, Chris, Mr. Miller, the apprentices, and June Tilson. They had paced the show furiously, warming up to the big scene. Mr. Miller gave the cue for the explosion. A moment of silence—and then they heard it.
Wham!
It sounded as if the roof of the auditorium had been blown off. Huge, billowing clouds of smoke poured on stage, almost obscuring the actors as they finished the scene amid coughs and tears, with a hysterical audience laughing as if their sides would split as the curtain closed.
The applause was deafening, but the actors hardly heard as they rushed backstage to see what had happened. There stood Michael Miller, black with smoke and ashes, peering at them helplessly from glasses that were absolutely opaque with grime.
“I put it in the ashcan, Chuck, just like you said,” Michael offered timidly. “I think it blew the top off.”
The ashcan was a crumpled mass of tin. The top had been blown across the stair well and ashes were strewn about, several inches deep.
“I guess you didn’t look in the can first,” Chuck said very quietly, his eyes still smarting.
“I didn’t know it would make so much smoke—” Michael whispered.
“No, I guess you didn’t,” Chuck agreed softly.
“I was very careful, but I guess maybe I should have just used a firecracker.” Michael sat down sorrowfully on the stairs, looking like a lump of coal in a bin.
Peggy couldn’t restrain herself any longer. She burst out laughing. “Oh, Michael,” she gasped, “and you worked so hard! It couldn’t have been funnier if you’d tried!”
Nobody could control himself any longer, and they all laughed until their sides hurt. The play ended without another mishap and the audience left, still talking about the “bomb.”
“Your place in folklore is assured, Michael,” his father told him dryly. “But next time I suggest you take a simple little walk to the store!”
The week flew by so quickly that Peggy didn’t know where the time had gone. They were rehearsing the melodrama,Love Rides the Rails, and during the day Randy would come to the theater to watch and cue the actors.
“Only one more day,” Peggy said incredulously, “and then you’ll be off to New York and we’ll only have three more weeks here! Oh, the summer is going so fast!”
“I’ll miss all this,” Randy admitted, “the theater and the lake—and you!”
Randy decided to go back to New York on the night bus that left the Manor right after the last performance ofYou Can’t Take It with You. Peggy walked with him to the gates to say good-by, feeling that the nicest part of the summer was going with him.
“It’s been fun, Randy,” she said shyly. “I’m awfully glad you were here—”
“I am too,” he said seriously, taking her hand. “I think maybe I came along at the right time. Chris is an awfully nice guy, but—well—this is summer stock, Peggy. Funny things can happen when you act with people. If you’re really interested in him, I hope you’ll see him in a different environment—maybe back in New York.” He smiled and suddenly leaned down and kissed her. “In the meantime, don’t forget me!”
Randy started to get on the bus and then paused with another thought. “And don’t forget that you’re an awfully good actress,” he said. “I have a lot of faith in you. I’d like you to remember that for the next few weeks.”
The bus pulled away, leaving Peggy with a funny lump in her throat. She’d be seeing Randy again in a little while—why did she feel so strange, she wondered. She suddenly had an acute appreciation of the difference between Randy’s loyal and generous attitude and the impulsive, surface interest of Chris Hill. That was it, she realized. She was a little ashamed of herself for having been swept up in a current by a dashing leading man, nice as he was. She watched Randy’s bus turn the corner and disappear, knowing that nobody could quite take his place.
The annex seemed strangely quiet the morning of the dayLove Rides the Railswas to open. Rita and Gus were down first as usual, having coffee and relaxing on the patio before rehearsals started. Peggy joined them, having hastily dressed in pedal pushers and a halter.
“It’s getting hotter and hotter,” she remarked, looking for a shady place to sit down and have her breakfast.
“But so peaceful after that hectic show,” Rita said lazily. “Really cozy! Will you ever forget Michael’s bomb?”
“I thought my hair would stand on end.” Gus laughed. “But it turned out to be a wonderful show. Your friend Randy certainly did a remarkable job!”
“I’m hoping that at last I get to play a nice young woman my own age.” Rita stretched out luxuriously on the wicker couch. “It doesn’t happen to me very often, you know!”
“You mean the wife inGuest in the House?” Peggy asked.
Rita nodded. “The wife to Chris Hill’s husband.” She grinned mischievously at Gus. “That is, if Gus approves!”
“Oh, certainly certainly.” Gus smiled and rumpled her hair as he rose. “Chris may be the Kenabeek heart throb, but I think my place is assured at home. See you all later—I have to go build a house!”
“He must really love his work,” Peggy sighed as she watched him go. “I think he’s worked harder than any of us this summer.”
“Except maybe Richard and Chuck,” Rita agreed. “I’m going to make him take a vacation after we’re through here, whether he likes it or not!”
One by one, the other actors appeared, and after breakfast Chuck started to hand out the sides forGuest in the House. Peggy felt unusually nervous. She had promised herself not to think of the possibility of playing Evelyn, but as the moment approached when her part was to be handed her, Peggy’s heart beat faster and her hand trembled. Chuck gave her the sides without a word, and after closing her eyes for a moment, Peggy took a deep breath and looked.
Evelyn! He had given it to her! She hugged the little pamphlet as if it were a long-lost friend. Here it was at last—a wonderful, rich, dramatic role, far, far different from all the ingénues she had played all summer!
Rita noticed her ecstatic expression and peeked at the sides. “Well,” she breathed softly, “I kind of thought so. I’m awfully glad, Peggy. You should play it!”
“Just a minute!” Alison’s voice was shrill in the quiet patio. “I’m not playing the model, Chuck. You gave me the wrong part!”
“No,” Chuck said firmly. “Peggy is going to do Evelyn and I want you to play Miriam Blake. You’re right for it, Alison, just as Peggy is right for Evelyn. It’s the only way to cast this show.”
“That’s true,” Rita whispered to Peggy.
“Well, I’m not going to do it!” Alison interrupted. “I’ve played Evelyn before and this just doesn’t make sense.”
“She did play it,” Chris broke in cautiously with a concerned look at Peggy. “We were both in the play last summer—”
“And who did the model?” Chuck asked.
“A girl we got from New York. We had to job the part,” Chris replied.
“Yes, you had to job the part, and we can’t afford to do that. I’m sorry, Alison,” Chuck said gently, “I know you’d like to do it again and I’m sure you were wonderful. But you yourself can see that with our company this is the only possible casting. Peggy is too young and unsophisticated to play the model. It just wouldn’t work out.”
“Well, then, get somebody else to play the model,” Alison said impatiently. “Why not get that June Tilson—what’s the matter with her?”
“Because audiences want to see Peggy again in a good part.” Chuck was adamant. “They want to see you, too. That’s part of stock, Alison. Your summer audiences grow fond of their actors and are interested in seeing them in varied roles. The model is a perfect part for you, Alison, and you’ll be good in it. Now let’s start the reading!”
Peggy had listened anxiously, almost without breathing. Now, as she looked at Alison, who was obviously seething as she opened her sides, Peggy wondered if this casting wouldn’t create too many difficulties. She knew that Chuck was right, though. His explanation made perfect sense. It was best for the play. But how was Alison going to react? How would rehearsals go if Alison remained as hostile as she was now? Peggy watched her worriedly and was shocked to see the hateful glance that Alison returned.
Peggy grew more and more nervous as the time approached for her to read. She hadn’t considered this before, but Alison was a very good actress with a fine technique. Would Peggy be able to do as well in this part? Her mouth was dry and she was terribly tense. She stumbled over her first lines as she felt everyone watching her—Chuck hopefully, Chris and Danny curiously, Rita with calm compassion, and Alison with a spiteful expression that said, “All right—let’s see you try and do it!”
No audience could ever be as critical as this small group of professional actors. And even though she had a week to work, Peggy knew that she was being severely judged on this first reading.
During the week of rehearsal Peggy found that the drama inherent in the part itself wasn’t going to be enough to carry her through. Evelyn was a girl who was emotionally disturbed and there was one scene toward the end of the play when she broke down altogether and appeared in a state of unreasonable fear. Peggy worked and worked on the scene, trying it every conceivable way, while Chuck patiently encouraged her. But it wasn’t going right and she knew it. Alison was doing a marvelous job as the model and it was a trial for Peggy to know that she was watching, criticizing, and comparing Peggy’s efforts with her own past success as Evelyn.
“I don’t think I can do it!” Peggy told Chuck miserably one day after rehearsal. “You should have given the part to Alison after all! I’m terrible.”
“You’ll be fine,” Chuck said quietly, but Peggy knew by the tone of his voice that Chuck had his doubts, too. She hadn’t made a real identification with the role yet, and it was drawing fearfully close to opening night. Worried and unhappy, Peggy wondered if she had any right to call herself an actress after all. If she couldn’t do this part that she had been so overjoyed to get, what hope was there?
She was tense and straining and finally even Chuck lost patience. “What’s the matter with you, Peggy?” he said sharply at rehearsal one day. “You’re missing this thing by a mile. You’re acting like an insipid little daisy that’s about to wilt on the stem! Evelyn isn’t like that—she’s crazy like a fox! She has power in her own strange way—”
“Could I say something, Chuck?” Alison interrupted, coming out from the wings where she’d been watching. “It might help Peggy. When I played the part I did it as though I were perfectly sane. Peggy’s trying toactcrazy and it’s never believable that way.”
“Yes, that’s true,” Chuck admitted, “it’s a good suggestion, Peggy. Try the scene again with that in mind.”
Peggy didn’t protest or try to justify herself, even though she had been perfectly aware all along of what Alison had just said. She tried again, doing even more badly than before, terribly conscious of Alison watching from the wings and judging every move.
“That was a rotten trick!” Rita fumed in a whisper when the scene was finished and Peggy, almost in tears, ran off stage. “Alison offering to help you! She knew exactly what she was doing—trying to draw attention to herself and make comparisons. Peggy, you’re never going to relax in this part if you can’t forget that Alison played it before. Can’t you see what she’s doing?”