She smiled at him. Poor fool! In a few weeks he would be bragging that he stage-managed her first appearance. She could afford to be patient with his bad temper, now.
Dress rehearsal was called and became a fevered memory. The day of the opening Isabelle spent quietly at home, except for a ride in the Park. She was to rest, and have her supper in her sitting room. Wally came in, in the midst of her repast, and fussed about her room.
“Aren’t you nervous?” he inquired.
“Oh, no.”
“I am. I’m so nervous I could scream!” he exploded. “I hate all this notoriety. They say the house will be packed.”
“We always like a full house,” she said, serenely.
“Suppose you flunk it!”
“But I won’t!”—promptly.
He looked at her uncomprehendingly.
“If you could only be kept in a cage, in the cellar!”