Next forenoon, promptly at eleven o'clock, Handy was at Fogg's house. A ring at the door-bell was responded to by that gentleman in person. Half a minute later both were settled down in Fogg's Bohemian quarters, which consisted of a small reception-room and still smaller bed-chamber. The reception-room was not luxuriously furnished, but it was by no means shabbily equipped. A piano stood in one corner, a writing-desk placed close to the window, and a well-used Morris chair were the most conspicuous articles of furniture. Photographs in abundance were scattered all around on the walls, and on a table there were enough old playbooks to make a respectable showing in a second-hand book store. The two men had not been seated more than five minutes when the bell at the hall door was rung, and in an instant Fogg was out of his chair and on his feet.
"What's the matter?" inquired Handy.
"I guess," replied Fogg, "that's the committee. They promised to be here at this hour. Excuse me for a moment," and before Handy could say another word Fogg was half-way down the first flight of stairs. The noise of the opening and closing of the street door was heard, and then succeeded a buzz of female voices accompanied by a patter of feet on the stairs. Before Handy had time to prepare to receive visitors, the door opened and Fogg, his face lighted up with the broadest kind of a smile, made his appearance, and ushered in the committee, which consisted of five blooming matrons who were instrumental in talking up and arranging for the proposed complimentary benefit. The ladies were not young; in fact, it was a long time since they had been. But their hearts were juvenile and they themselves were sympathetic and generously inclined. Handy was duly introduced, and then the female philanthropists and lovers of art commenced the business which brought them there, somewhat after this fashion:
"What a unique little snuggery you have here, Mr. Fogg," began one.
"It is so artistic, don't you know, that it is too awfully sweet for anything," replied another.
"Ah! there's one of the best photos I have ever seen of the divine Sarah. Where did you get it, Mr. Fogg?" added a third. "That one of Maude Adams is fair, and that of Mrs. Fiske there in the character of—I forget the name—does not do her justice."
This medley of inconsequential conversation and chatter continued for fully half an hour without one word being spoken on the all-important subject they had presumably been brought together to arrange. They touched on everything theatrical, according to their lights, but that in which their friend was most interested. At length Fogg, in sheer desperation, broke the ice, and in a somewhat hesitating manner explained the way in which he had induced his friend, Mr. Handy, to be present at the conference and give them the benefit of his vast managerial experience and acknowledged histrionic ability in arranging the programme of the proposed complimentary testimonial. Moreover, Mr. Handy had postponed an important engagement in order that he might have the honor of managing the stage at the rehearsals as well as on the evening of the performance.
The ladies were in ecstasies.
"Oh, how charmingly delightful!" ejaculated the most rubicund of the committee. "And so you have finally determined, Mr. Fogg, on 'The Lady of Lyons' for the attraction."
"Yes, ladies, I have. A determination with which I feel satisfied you all will concede. Revivals of well-known successful plays are rapidly coming into fashion, and it is well to keep up with the progress of the times. I might mention a number of old plays managers have in contemplation but as Shakespeare says—I think it was the sweet Bard of Avon that so expressed himself—'Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.' That is why I have selected Bulwer's great romantic and poetic masterpiece—'The Lady of Lyons.' Besides, ladies, bear in mind it will afford Miss Daisy Daffodil a magnificent opportunity to appear as Pauline, a character, ladies, which has claimed the histrionic talents of many of the bright luminaries of the stage from the days of the glorious Peg Woffington to those of Leslie Carter."