Yardsley. Oh yes, of course I’m never right. What am I stage-manager for?
Perkins. Oh, as for that, of course, you are the one in authority, but you were wrong about the white tie and the dinner coat. He was a bogus earl, an adventurer, wasn’t he?
Yardsley. Yes, he was, but—
Perkins. Well, no real earl would wear a white tie with a dinner coat unless he were visiting in America. I grant you that if he were going to a reception in New York he might wear a pair of golf trousers with a dinner coat, but in this instance his dress simply showed his bogusity, as it were. He merely dressed the part.
Yardsley. He doesn’t want to make it too plain, however, so I was right after all. His villany is to come as a painful surprise.
Mrs. Perkins. But what are we to do? Have you got anybody else to take his part?
Yardsley. Yes. I telegraphed right off to Bradley, explained as far as I could in a telegram without using all the balance in the treasury, and he answered all right. Said he’d bone at the part all day, and would be here at five letter perfect.
Mrs. Perkins (with a sigh of relief). Good. He’s very quick at learning a thing. I imagine it will be all right. I’ve known him to learn a harder part than that in five hours. It’ll be pleasanter for Emma, too. She didn’t like those scenes she had as Lady Amaranth the adventuress with Henderson. He kept her off the middle of the stage all the time; but with her husband it will be different.
Perkins. I’ll bet on that! No good-natured husband of a new women ever gets within a mile of the centre of the stage while she’s on it. She’ll have stage room to burn in her scenes with Brad.
Mrs. Perkins. I think it was awfully mean of Mr. Henderson, though.