“Well, you see, I’m afraid that Max has said some pretty awful things about your theater to Ford.” Bill seemed almost ashamed. “Not about the people personally,” he added hastily, “but professionally. Max honestly thinks you’re all amateurs and he’s persuaded Ford of that.” He shook his head ruefully. “And Max resents a little company of newcomers coming into the town and possibly drawing away his business. He—he’s not a very happy man, Peggy, and he is my brother. I have to understand how he feels.”
“Of course,” Peggy said sympathetically. “I know some people like that in my home town. They’re terrified of anything new and become completely unreasonable about it.”
Bill nodded. “If Max would just let me choose some of the films, as you said, I think our own business would pick up. It’s been terrible lately, but I know why. It isn’t the Summer Theater, as Max thinks. It’s his choice of old, dull movies that nobody wants to see. This is the first good one we’ve shown in a long time!” He sighed ironically. “And it took your theater to make him choose it—for all the wrong reasons!”
They were silent, each thinking of the seemingly impossible situation. Now that she saw the design more clearly, Peggy couldn’t think of a way out. Apparently, neither could Bill. He frowned and shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Peggy, but there just doesn’t seem to be anything I can do. I wish I could. Believe me, I wish I could!”
Peggy walked back to the annex for the line rehearsal, feeling disconsolate and subdued. It was really almost hopeless, she thought, mulling over all the problems. Without any real authority in the business, Bill couldn’t be of much help. But she had been right about one thing. Bill Slade was certainly not the weak, spineless creature that people imagined! He had good reason for his actions, and actually, it was wonderfully loyal and brave of him to stick by his brother in the face of a lot of criticism. Peggy didn’t doubt that more persons than those concerned with the Summer Theater regarded Bill as his brother’s younger shadow—possibly even Ford Birmingham!
Peggy thought of the little paragraph Mr. Birmingham had written on Dear Ruth toward the end of the week—just as Chuck had predicted. Chris had been right, too. It had said almost less than nothing—a mere notice, in fact! Well, it was all a shame, Peggy thought sadly, a terrible and unnecessary shame!
IX
A Lifeline
Angel Street opened to a house of twelve persons!
Fortunately, Alison was so engrossed in her work that she was not aware of the ridiculously small audience until curtain calls, when they showed their intense appreciation of the play by standing while they applauded and shouted, “Bravo!” It was indicative of the fine performances the actors had given and a deliberate gesture of support. Almost everyone in the audience came backstage after the show, congratulating the company and telling Alison and Howard Miller in particular how wonderful they had been. Aunt Hetty was singularly impressed. “I knew you were a good actress, Alison,” she complimented her, “but I really had no idea you could do a demanding, difficult part like this so well!”
Overhearing, Peggy couldn’t help wishing again that she could have a chance to sink her teeth into a dramatic part, too. Not that she was at all envious of Alison—or was she, Peggy wondered? No, she didn’t think so. It was just that seeing someone else in a serious role opened up a part of Peggy that hadn’t been tapped this summer and wished to be used.