And so, quietly, but still with that air of determination, Patty told about Maude Kent, and the concert at Poland Spring and how Mr. Stengel was interested and wanted to see her with a view to starring her in light opera.
Mr. Fairfield sighed, for he foresaw no easy task in trying to persuade his wilful daughter to his own point of view.
“Patty, dear,” he said, “do you remember when you were a little girl, I gave you a lecture on proportion?”
“I do, Daddy, and I’ve never forgotten it!”
“Well, put it in practice now, then. Can’t you see that it is out of all proportion to think of an ignorant, untrained girl like you stepping all at once into the rôle of a successful prima donna?”
“But more experienced people than you think I can.”
“No, they don’t, dear. This manager knows your limitations, he knows you have no stage lore or experience, and if he wants you, it is only because of your dainty and charming personality, and because there is a certain prestige in the fact of a society girl going on the stage. But, as soon as the novelty was over, he would fling you aside like a worn-out glove.”
“How do you know? You never were a manager?”
“Patty, men of experience in this world don’t have to adopt a profession to know many salient points regarding it. I shall have to ask you to take my word that I do know enough of managers and their ways to know my statement is true. Nor are the managers altogether wrong. It is their business to get performers who interest the public, and they have a right to use their efforts toward that end. But I don’t want my daughter to be sacrificed to their business acumen. Now, will you drop this wild scheme without further argument, or shall we thresh it out further?”
“Why, I’ve no intention of dropping it, Dad,” and Patty looked amazed at the idea.