I took apple tart, but Mr. Tupper said that sweet dishes were fatal to the working of his mind in poetical invention, so he had celery and cheese.
“I see Wilson to-night,” he resumed. “To be quite frank, I have to tell him about a lad who is very anxious to join him, and wishes to give me fifty pounds for the introduction; but such is my strange gift of intuition in these cases, that I would far rather introduce you to the theatre than the youth in question. You are clearly in earnest and I doubt if he is. You have a theatrical personality and he has not. Your voice is well suited for the higher drama; his is a cockney voice and will always place him at a disadvantage save in comedy. Had it been in your power to go before Wilson this week, I should have substituted your name for the other. I wish cordially there were no sordid question of money. I would even advance you five guineas myself. But you are as delicate-minded as I am. You would not like me to do that.”
I assured him that such a thing was out of the question.
“Indeed, Mr. Tupper,” I said, “you are doing far, far more than I should ever have thought anybody would do for a perfect stranger. And unless I could pay the money for the decayed Home, I should not dream of accepting such a great kindness.”
He was quite touched. He blew his nose.
“We artists,” he said, “are emotional. There is a magic power in us to find all that is trusting and good and of sweet savour in human nature. And yet goodness and gratitude and proper feeling in the young always move me, as you see me moved now. They are so rare.”
He brought out a brown leather purse and took from it half a sovereign. He then called the waiter and paid the bill.
“We will go down into the smoking-room,” he said. “No doubt a liqueur will not be amiss.”
I’d forgotten all about the time and, in fact, everything else in the world during this fearfully exciting meeting with Mr. Martin Tupper; and the end of it all was that I fished out my first five-pound note for the introduction to Mr. Barrett and my first step on the stage.
“It should be guineas,” said Mr. Tupper, “but in your case, and because I have taken a very great personal fancy to you, it shall be pounds. And don’t grudge the money. Go on your way happy in the knowledge that it will greatly gladden a life that has a distinctly seamy side. There is a sad but courageous woman whose eyes will brighten when she sees this piece of paper.”