“Everything’s all set, Peg,” her father said with a grin. “And it’s set just the way you wanted it! There’s not a man in the world who can hold out against two determined women.” He leaned back against the fireplace mantel, waiting for the explosion he felt sure was to follow his announcement. But Peggy just stood, hardly moving a muscle. Then she walked carefully, as if she were on the deck of a rolling ship, to the big easy chair and slowly sat down.
“Well, for goodness’ sake!” her mother cried. “Where’s the enthusiasm?”
Peggy swallowed hard before answering. When her voice came, it sounded strange, about two tones higher than usual. “I ... I’m trying to be sedate ... and poised ... and very grown-up,” she said. “But it’s not easy. All I want to do is to—” and she jumped out of the chair—“to yell whoopee!” She yelled at the top of her lungs.
After the kisses, the hugs, and the first excitement, Peggy and her parents adjourned to the kitchen, the favorite household conference room, for cookies and milk and more talk.
“Now, tell me, Dad,” Peggy asked, her mouth full of oatmeal cookies, no longer “sedate” or “poised,” but her natural, bubbling self. “Who was that on the phone, and where are the three of us going, and what’s all set?”
“One thing at a time,” her father said. “To begin with, we decided almost as soon as you left that we were going to let you go to New York to try a year’s experience in the theater. But then we had to decide just where you would live, and where you should study, and how much money you would need, and a whole lot of other things. So I called New York to talk to an old friend of mine who I felt would be able to give us some help. Her name is May Berriman, and she’s spent all her life in the theater. In fact, she was a very successful actress. Now she’s been retired for some years, but I thought she might give us some good advice.”
“And did she?” Peggy asked.
“We were luckier than I would have thought possible,” Mrs. Lane put in. “It seems that May bought a big, old-fashioned town house and converted it into a rooming house especially for young actresses. She always wanted a house of her own with a garden in back, but felt it was foolish for a woman living alone. This way, she can afford to run a big place and at the same time not be alone. And best of all, she says she has a room that you can have!”
“Oh, Mother! It sounds wonderful!” Peggy exulted. “I’ll be with other girls my own age who are actresses, and living with an experienced actress! I’ll bet she can teach me loads!”
“I’m sure she can,” her father said. “And so can the New York Dramatic Academy.”