Sheila was aflame with impatience, but she could not leave. Before the council of war was finished the general rehearsal was called—a distracting ordeal, with the company crowded to the footlights and struggling to remember lines and cues in the battle-like clamor of getting the scenery in, making the new drops fast to the ropes and hoisting them away to the flies. Hammers were pounding, canvases going up, stage-hands shouting and interrupting.
The rehearsal was vexatious enough in all conscience, but its crudities were aggravated by the icy realization that this was the final rehearsal before the production. In a few hours the multitude of empty chairs would be occupied by the big jury.
Under this strain the actors developed disheartening lapses of memory that promised complications at night. When the lines had been parroted over, Reben spoke a few words like a dubious king addressing his troops before battle. The stage-manager sang out with unwonted comradery:
“Go to it, folks, and good luck!”
Sheila dashed to the stage door, only to be called again by Reben. He offered to walk to the hotel with her. She dared not refuse. He invited her to dine with him. She said that she would be dining in her room. In the lobby of the hotel he had much to say and kept her waiting. He was trying to cheer up a poor fluttering girl about to go through the fire. He found her peculiarly ill at ease.
At last she escaped him and flew to her room to telephone Bret. She knew he must be boiling over by now. Pennock met her with exciting news. Certain articles of her costume had not arrived as promised. Shopping must be done at once, since the stores were about to close.
All things must yield to the battle-needs, and Sheila postponed telephoning Bret; it was the one postponable duty. By the time she had finished her purchases it was too late to make the trip out to the cozy nook he had selected. She was bitterly disappointed on his account—and her own.
She reached the telephone at last, only to learn that he had gone out, leaving a message that if his wife called up she was to be told to come to their lodgings at once. But this she could not do. And she could not find him to explain why.
He found her at last by telephone, and when she described her plight to him he was furious with disappointment and wrath. He had bought flowers lavishly and decorated the rooms and the table where they were to have had peace at last for a while. Nullified hope sickened him.