She had just caught sight of him in the distance, talking to the “calcium man,” when the awful thing happened.
It seemed to Marion that she had been listening for it all the time, yet she stood perfectly still for a moment, her nerves tense with agony.
The chorus was going through a sword drill at the time, and everything was moving rhythmically, when there came a sharp scream.
Marion heard an order given, the curtain was rung down, and then Mr. Brown’s voice came to her as if from some great distance. He was talking calmly to the audience, telling them what had happened. There was a dim murmur of applause from the front of the house, then Marion heard no more, for she had suddenly come to her senses just as two of the “supers” came “behind,” carrying one of the chorus girls between them.
“Quick!” cried Marion, as she instantly knelt by the wounded girl’s side. “Give me a piece of ribbon or a big handkerchief, someone. She will bleed to death if we don’t prevent it. Now, a stick of some kind!” she added, as some one handed her a piece of ribbon. As deftly as possible Marion wound the ribbon around the girl’s bleeding arm, and then, thrusting a stick through it, she began twisting it gently.
The stage manager had already sent for a physician, but before he arrived Marion had stopped the flow of blood.
“Well done, my brave girl,” said the doctor, smiling at her. “You have saved this girl’s life. It is a pity there are not more women like you.”
“Oh, but I have had experience as a nurse,” said Marion, quickly. “I was in Charity Hospital for awhile this winter.”
“That accounts for it, then,” said the doctor, as he applied a ligature.