HANDMAID TO FAME

Wairarapa Times-Age, 22 February 1939, Page 10

HANDMAID TO FAME

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

COPYRIGHT.

BY

BERTA RUCK.

CHAPTER XI.

(Continued). “Extraordinarily kind of you,” said Vai. Terry thought, "This is too awful.” Vai went on, however, to make excuses. Neither of them were really presentable enough to ask any hotel to take them in. During this writing holiday they had found for Terry a little inn, for Vai rooms over the blacksmith’s in the smallest village that was ever perched between a mountain peak and a mountain lake. Elmer continued to press them: “Say, can’t I persuade you folks? There’s a perfectly good car running to waste. You’d be doing me a favour, I guess, taking my girl off' my conscience while I go storming peaks with the boys.” But Flower, now piqued beyond endurance by her Elmer’s seeming to think she was the mere wife a man kept on his conscience, gave her most girl screen-laugh and put forward a plan even less acceptable to everybody but herself.

“Now listen, Elmer. Who wants to be stuck down in a town —even a heavenly town like Innsbruck, while you’re storming peaks I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll book a room for me, too, in this, idyllic place with these two nice people. Then 1 shall have company while you climb. I love these mountain villages. Oh, I’m not the complete hot-house exotic that you try and make out.” She added with a shaft of sharpedged malice aimed at Vai. “Why, you ought to have seen me on location sometimes —in the most primitive places. Once on the coast of Spain, the nearest approach to a desert island, ever. Then there was a village in the Italian Alps; do you remember, Vai?”

“Oh, rather,” said Vai. “I remember,” He thought: “How could I have thought that was Heaven?” Terry, clenching her hands together under the table, heard the arrangements being made. Elmer was to drive his wife up to the Inn tomorrow evening and leave her there after dinner. At dawn the next morning, he and the other two Americans were to start their climb leaving his baby hon-ey-love to be looked after by Vai and by Terry. “In other words,” thought Terry. “Enter, in to the only Garden of Eden I’ve ever knpwn —the serpent?” It seemed almost too bad to be true. “Can it really be. going to happen?”

All happened to schedule. The following night the Osgoods’ high-power-ed car climbed the precipitous road to the idyllic bridge. Flower, with super-dressing-bag and jewel-case, alighted. “I haven’t even brought my maid. It’s just going to be like old times,” said she to Vai —but at Elmer. “Just the mountains, and the stars and the glowworms, and bathing in the lake.” Later she called gaily “Au revoir, Elmer! Have a good time! I’m going to!” “If it’s the acid test of man how he behaves to his old flame, Vai comes out simply grandly,” thought Terry more than once during the first of those miserable hours after the serpent had arrived into their Eden.

Vai’s manner to the serpent—otherwise Flower—continued to be the perfect mixture of colleague-and-old-friend. Most of the time they seemed to be talking shop. Hours were spent on the first day in the discussion of Flower's plans. Oh, she was not going to let Elmer drag her- away from the films. Not that he wanted to. He quite realised that an artist’s career was just as important to her after marriage, as before. Vai knew that Flower was all signed up with Isidore Maurus? Fortunately they weren’t going to begin to make the picture until next August, which would allow her to have a lovely long honeymoon. After that she would be all fit for work, she was looking forward to be playing opposite to this new young man—they said he had always been crazy about Flower—Elmer hadn’t liked the idea, but she had got him to listen to reason at last. Elmer would just have to resign himself to the idea of career coming before he did. Terry, listening, checked herself from uttering the vulgar phrase “Oh yeah?” Terry thought again, “She wants everybody! She is keen on her nice St Bernard dog of a millionaire husband, but she wants Vai to go back to be a moth fluttering round her for ever!” That afternoon the ex-moth was requisitioned to take Flower out in the little electric canoe which Elmer's thoughtfulness had provided. It was to be at Flower’s disposal any and every time she wanted —and its Tyrolean owner reached a rich harvest. “You don't mind taking her alone. Terry?”

“Oh, no!” Good gracious! I've got letters to write. Vai. Besides— —" “There’s something I specially want to talk to Flower about. Of course! Of course!”

“Why say ‘of course.' when you don't even know what it is?"

"As it happens, it's the play." “You're going to talk to Flower, to Miss Armitage—to Mrs Osgood, about our play?”

“Definitely. I want her to talk to the great Osgood about it. The man s always backing films. Heaven knows what he hasn’t put into her next one. Why shouldn’t he back our masterpiece, Terry? If Flower says she wants it put on, we needn't worry any more about the financial aspect. That'll be all right.”

Now that play had been copied and sent out to three managers. It was to be sent out to various actresses of whom Vai had said there was a possibility of their falling for the leading lady’s part. “It's stipulated,” Terry said quickly, “that nobody but you is to play leading man.” “You’re telling me!” “Well, do all you can to persuade

her, won’t you?” Terry went back and left Vai to carry on. At the other side of the lake Vai drew the canoe in under trees. “Flower. Can you be bored by listening to some plans of mine?” "Of course, Vai. I thought you said you didn’t know what your next picture was to be?” Vai told her he thought he was finished for pictures. Diplomatically, Vai allowed a look of slight wistful reproach to cloud his handsome eyes. This pleased Flower, who said, softly, “Sorry Vai. A woman doesn’t feel top happy when sihe remembers that she may have crashed a man’s career.” “Darn little humbug?” thought Vai. But he knew his Flower. He said quite gently, also non-committally, “Ah well, I sometimes think Fate jerks the strings and we never know for what purpose.” “Oh, Vai, that’s so true!” murmured his ex-flame, but a little absently. “Even now that I've left the films, it doesn’t mean I've left the show-busi-ness,” her ex-Moth was now saying. “I've an idea of. trying for a comeback on the legitimate stage in a straight play.” Flower, really interested, drew her hand out of the water in which she'd been trailing it and looked at him alertly. “Not a bad idea,” she said. Another idea struck her. If she. could get Elmer to back Vai Lavery, it would mean that-they saw a good deal of her old love and there was nothing like having a blameless, platonic admirer to keep a husband up to the mark. “Do you mean, Vai, you were going to ask me whether there was any chance of Elmer’s putting money into a play for you?” “To be frank, I was,” admitted Vai. “Have you got a play?” “As a matter of fact, Flower, I have got a play. Will you let me tell you about it?” He sketched its action. He brought Ol.u and read aloud to her a scene. “The goods, don’t you think, Flower?” “Vai, it' does read awfully well," Flower agreed, and it was obvious she thought so. “Whose is it?” “Guess?” “It’s not yours, is it?” “No. I should like to tell you that it was. I’ve had a fist in it. I daresay | you noticed that. The part of Frank in it, is mine. I’m mad keen to play it. I feel I could make a success in it,” the man said seriously, and now all the ragging and nonsense had died out of his tone. “This means a lot to me, Flower. It might make all the difference to the rest of my career. It’s a part in a thousand —well, it was written for me.”

“Yes; but, my dear, by whom?" “By Terry Grey.” “What? By that quite dull little girl?—l mean, by that secretary of yours?” “You must admit, Flower, that no girl who could write a scene like that is dull.”

“No. Must be brighter than she looks,” agreed Flower quite sweetly. Again there came back to her the wave of angry jealousy that had broken over her when she heard the adored Elmer say that little Miss Grey had gotten very cutte.

There was a pause. Then Flower took up “I’d love to see you make a come-back on the stage, and with this play, since you obviously believe in it. But as to asking Elmer to finance it, Vai, I’m terribly sorry, but now I come to think of it. I can't give you much hope that he’d be interested. If you knew how many hard-luck tales he has to listen to!”

“Pity the poor multi-millionaire!” “No. But really, Vai. Do you know that just every human soul who invents another aeroplane silencer, or nonladdering silk stocking, or emotionproof lipstick, comes at once to Elmer K. Osgood to be financed. As for all the striving amateurs of the theatre —I haven’t the heart, Vai, to wish any more of them on to Elmer. But to please you, for old time’s sake, as it were, and because I always do feel guilty about having crashed your film, I’ll glance through the play for you I myself. ” “No, no. Don't worry, Flower,” Vai said briskly. “I know what ‘some time' means with you people who are so busy.” “You’re right. Well, I might find an address or so for a likely quarter, or if I hear of anything—l'd always let you know. Vai." “Thanks a lot, my dear,” Vai said cheerfully, but telling himself, “In other words, .there is nothing doing; so that's that!” That night, he carne over to the little inn to dinner and found Terry alone. Flower was still upstairs, doing things to her face. Terry was glancing over the secret passion. “Looking at our play?” She whisked round. “Yes. yes. What luck did you have about the Osgoods backing it?” “None. My dear, I'm so awfully sorry." “Didn't—didn't you read any of it to her." "Yes. She liked that all right!" “Then why—did you tell her we wrote it?" “Told her we'd done it together, but I said it was yours.” (To be Continued. 7