Peggy didn’t protest or try to justify herself, even though she had been perfectly aware all along of what Alison had just said. She tried again, doing even more badly than before, terribly conscious of Alison watching from the wings and judging every move.
“That was a rotten trick!” Rita fumed in a whisper when the scene was finished and Peggy, almost in tears, ran off stage. “Alison offering to help you! She knew exactly what she was doing—trying to draw attention to herself and make comparisons. Peggy, you’re never going to relax in this part if you can’t forget that Alison played it before. Can’t you see what she’s doing?”
“But it’s too late to give her the part,” Peggy said dully, “so she can’t be after that. Alison’s never been like this before. I’ve always liked her, really. What is she trying to do?”
“Make you give a dreadful performance!” Rita insisted strongly. “I know Alison Lord like a book. She’s a fine, nice girl as long as she’s in the limelight, but her career comes first, and she’ll walk roughshod over anyone who interferes with it!”
“But this is only a summer stock company—” Peggy protested.
“Yes, and people go back to New York saying, ‘Gosh, have you seen Peggy Lane in Guest in the House? She was great!’ These things do get around, Peggy. Alison came up here to be the big cheese, and she wants it to stay that way. If she can’t play the part at least she figures that people can say, ‘They really should have given that part to Alison Lord; Peggy Lane was awful!’”
Rita spelled it out in no uncertain terms, leaving Peggy feeling bleaker than ever. She knew that Rita was trying to prod her, make her angry enough to forget Alison and come through with a good performance. But Peggy didn’t work that way. She couldn’t act out of spite or anger. She was aware, too, that other people in the company were disappointed in her. Danny Dunn couldn’t conceal his surprise or Chris Hill his impatience. The fine rapport that Peggy and Chris had had in For Love or Money was a thing of the past.
Dress rehearsal for Guest in the House took place Tuesday afternoon. The company had to be out of the theater by five P.M. for the group of folk singers who had the auditorium for the evening. It was a benefit affair and the Summer Theater was glad to donate its stage for the night. Peggy didn’t know if it was the strangeness of working in the afternoon or if it would have happened in any case, but her performance was the worst one she had ever given. Not only was she unable to get into the role at all, but she forgot her lines on several occasions—something that hadn’t happened all season. Chuck was so unhappy with the show that he didn’t even criticize her. It was obvious that he thought it too late.
Miserably, Peggy took off her make-up and started to leave the theater, wishing that she had never been given the part at all. Perhaps she would never attempt to play a dramatic role again. “And I was feeling so self-satisfied, thinking it was easy!” she thought as she walked out the stage door.
“Peggy, how’s it going?” Michael Miller rounded the corner of the building, coming from the little shack the boys used for a scene shop.