Leaves of Destiny

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 386, 21 June 1928, Page 5

Leaves of Destiny

9 .

orothea Corbould

Author .or " A Fatal Friendship," • Hit Fair Enemy, Held m Bondajje." fie. *(

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS Chapter I.—Barbara Denning gazes at her last shilling. A well-bred, wellnurtured girl, she has lost both her parents and is now on the brink of starvation. Her sympathies are divided between her own necessities and the sufferings of a little boy in the same lodging house whose mother is a drunkard. She goes out singing in the streets that night, and with the money earned she gets a supper for both the child and herself. The next evening two men speak to her, praising her voice, and she decides to sing in the afternoon for the future. One afternoon she is again addressed by one of the men who spoke to her on a previous night. He gives her his card, advising her to go to a Mr. Simpkins, the manager of the Diadem Theatre. Barbara Denning visits the theatre and is interviewed by Mr. Simpkins. Chapter ll.—Barbara Denning’s interview with Mr. Simpkins is almost terminated at the commencement, but he calls her back. She sings and he is satisfied. He decides she will do for the Birds’ Chtorus, and introduces her to a Mr. Beal, the musical director. He thinks she could understudy the Nightingale, Miss MacArthur’s speciality, as that lady is often absent through illness. The salary is £3 a week, and £5 when she takes the Nightingale. The following morning Barbara attends a rehearsal. Returning to her lodgings she finds some excited women chattering. Mrs. Brown, the drunken mother of the little boy, Reggie, in whom she is so interested. Das been run over and taken to the hospital. A hospital nurse has called to see about the child, as the patient was so anxious about him. Mrs. Bloggs, the landlady, has five of her own, and cannot undertake Reggie. Barbara promises to be responsible for the child, goes to him, and takes him to her own quarters. Two days later Barbara is told by Mrs. Bloggs that someone has called from the hospital. Reggie’s mother has not long to lvvc. She has asked to see Miss Denning. She wants to talk about the child. CHAPTER 111 (Continued) The first night of the revue came at last, and the Diadem Theatre was packed from floor to ceiling by an enthusiastic crowd of first nighters eager for something new. “The Forest Queen” was a great and unqualified success —the Bird Chorus being specially applauded and accorded a “par” all to itself in the daily Press. Mr Simpkins was radiant with delight and told Captain Mordaunt, who always patronised first nights, that Miss Denning had proved quite a mascot, taking the lead with the sopranos and keeping them up to the mark. Mordaunt had himself congratulated Barbara as she stood at the wings, on having obtained the engagement at the Diadem, and she in return thanked him in a few grateftil words for having introduced her. It was the first time they had met since he had given her the card, and it was a relief to the girl to find that the young man had evidently no intention of thrusting his acquaintance any further upon her merely because he had been able to do her a service. There was to be a supper on the stage after the performance, but Barbara had declined the invitation and hurried home. She always felt out of place among the other members of the company, and beyond a civil exchange of greeting, and a few commonplace remarks had advanced no further in intimacy with her companions in the Bird Chorus. Miss MacArthur had studiously avoided taking any notice of her, and evidently, so Barbara mentally decided, deeply resented her being put forward as the leading soprano after fcerself. “That girl dislikes me, though I cannot imagine why, for I haven’t exchanged a single word with her!” she said to herself. “Unless she fears l shall understudy her, and perhaps take her part, which I sincerely trust will not happen—at any rate, yet awhile.” However, two days later, a message came down to the theatre to say that j

Miss MacArthur was laid up with a slight attack of bronchitis and would not be able to sing for a few days, but she begged that Miss O’Rourke, who knew the part well, might take the role of nightingale till she returned. “Which it’s meself that wouldn’t take it at any price!” was that young lady’s remarks when informed of the request. “Of course, you’ll give it to. Miss Denning, Mr. Beal; she’ll bring down the house with it.” And Mr. Beal had replied that this was certainly his intention all airing, but to keep the peace and avoid offending Miss MacArthur he had been obliged to follow out the latter’s suggestion. And so Barbara was informed when she arrived at the theatre that she would have to take the part of the nightingale that evening. “But I couldn’t do it; I should have stage fright; I shall lose my voice through sheer terror when I have to go forward to the footlights and face that big audience!” poor Barbara shivered in dismay at the appalling prospect. But Mr. Beal would listen to no remonstrance, and Mr. Simpkins hinted that failure on her part might mean the loss of her engagement, as she was really an extra in the chorus and only retained because of the possibility of her being able to understudy Miss MacArthur. Therefore, the girl had to brace herself up for the ordeal, relying on the fact that she was well up in the part, and praying for strength to succeed—so much depended on it —her own and Reggie’s very existence, to say nothing of the five pounds a week, and perhaps later on, the chance of a small part. Then doubtless the audience would never discover that she was not Miss MacArthur, for Barbara was not aware that in each programme that evening was enclosed a slip of paper stating that “owing to the sudden indisposition of Miss MacArthur, the role of the Nightingale would be played by Miss Barbara Denning,” and she must trust to summoning up courage when the dreaded moment came. She scarcely knew how she got through the opening chorus of the birds, but she had a brave heart, and as she stepped forward to the footlights to sing the solo, tried to imagine that the sea of faces in the auditorium merely represented her old schoolfellows at the Pension, always an appreciative audience. The orchestra played the opening bars of the pretty tune, whose little shakes and trills suited Barbara’s voice so well, and then — “From the woodland glades I come To greet thee, lovely Spring, Trilling o’er hill and dale. “While other birds are dumb Wakeful all night I sing, I am the Nightingale! ” A little tremulous at first, the singer’s voice gained in power and sweetness with every note, and Barbara’s courage returned, as it always did under the influence of the song —self-consciousness left her. She only thought of -what success would mean both to herself and the management, jvho had trusted her to up- j hold the “prestige” of the house. A moment’s pause as the last trill j on a sw r eet bird-like high note came with faultless accuracy, and then ap- ! plause broke forth—applause such as j Miss MacArthur in her happiest ren- j dering of the solo had never elicited. “Bravo! Encore! Encore!” The j audience shouted, and at a sign of j Mr. Beal, Barbara came forward once | more and repeated the song, eliciting \ yet further applause greatly augmented |

by the radiant smile oil the lovely face as the singer bowed her acknowledgments after the second call for an “encore.” “It was a triumph—nothing less!” was Mr. Simpkins’s verdict as he shook hands with Barbara afterwards, and patted her shoulder. “You’ll do, my dear!—take care you don’t catch cold whatever you do; your votee is too valuable to play tricks with!” Barbara found the youth, Herbert Knowles, w'aiting for her at the stage door. He had several times pleaded to be allowed to get her a taxi or see her to her bus, but hitherto Barbara had haughtily refused his escort. Tonight, however, elated by her success, she felt more kindly disposed toward him, and accepted his offer to see her to the bus. He was delighted beyond measure at her triumph, for he admired her as much as he hated Miss MacArthur, who was invariably rude to him. “You’ll get a ‘par’ in the papers tomorrow, see if you don’t. Miss Denning!” he exclaimed, “and won’t Lil MacArthur be furious! I’d give something to see her face when she hears about to-night, for she hates you already like poison!” and Mr. Knowles chuckled gleefully. “I don’t see why she should hate me,” Barbara replied, “and I am sure she must know I should do my best as her understudy—it was awful though! I never thought I could do it!” “You did it jolly well though! better than Lil anyway. Old Simpkins said so. I heard him! I shouldn't wonder if he told her!” “Oh, I hope he won’t!” was the reply in a tone of vexed consternation, “she will dislike me more than ever, and she is quite rude to me even now ” “She’ll be ruder still after the notices to-morrow,” was Knowles’s comforting rejoinder, and the thought of the other girl’s evident antagonism toward her did much to spoil Barbara’s pleasurable remembrance of the evening’s trimph and her own success. She would have been even more uncomfortable could she have seen Lil MacArthur’s rage and fury when she saw the newspapers next morning, for among other items was the following:— “Diadem Theatre.—Last night’s performance was one of the best we have ever seen at this theatre, the chorus singing being particularly good, and a word of praise must be accorded to the young lady, Miss Barbara Denning, -who took the part of the Nightingale, we understand, at very short notice. Miss Denning possesses a voice of extraordinary power and sweetness; her clear bird-like notes filling the theatre. Her solo gained her quite an ovation, being tw r ice ‘encored,’ and we predict for this young la'dy, whose beauty equals her vocal powers, a great career in the musical world.” Dire was the vengeance with which Lil MacArthur threatened her rival. “An utter stranger, picked up heaven: knows where!” she cried, “and they have actually mentioned her in the papers! I could kill her! They had no business to give her my part when Kathy O’Rourke could have understudied me quite well, and I had coached her myself for the part. Simpkins is mad about that Denning girl’s voice. Laura James told me so. Oh! if only I hadn’t caught this cold just now!” and the speaker raved and ranted till she made herself quite ill, and it was only when someone belonging to her suggested that it was she herself who had given Miss Denning her chance, and that the longer she stayed away from the theatre so much greater was the other girl’s opportunity for success, that she eventually calmed down and made up her mind to try and get well as quickly as possible. But in the meantime she brooded j over her fancied wrongs and ways and i means of avenging herself for being : superseded by the girl she hated. (To be continued.)