An ethereally fair young girl did the usual monologue fromRomeo and Juliet, but though she was lovely enough to make eyes water, her voice was a thread, the sort, Hannah thought with relief, that no lessons—nothing short of surgery, in fact—could remedy. There was a look of regret in Kyle Harper’s eyes as he let her go and called the next actress to her mark. This was fairer competition, Hannah thought, because the young woman, although only merely attractive, seemed to feel the words she was saying, and made a stylish, if not a beautiful,Ophelia. And then, after dismissing her with a speculative look, Kyle called Lottie up. Hannah actually held her breath. But Lottie said it all perfectly. As if, Hannah thought a bit sadly, it really mattered in her case.
Lottie had worn a vivid peony pink frock, so she’d command the eye, but a man would have to be blind not to note the way she’d cinched in her already tiny waist so that her truly impressive breasts could better be seen. And when she’d whipped off her great belled skirt to show the stage pantaloons she wore for the role she was to do, the gasps the men gave were not so much for the cleverness at having come prepared in costume as they were for the curving hips and limbs that went on display. If not the most impassionedPortiaever, she was probably the most voluptuous one. Kyle Harper grinned.
After a few more girls were scarcely attended to as they tried for the job, Lottie got it. Hannah sighed, now it was entirely possible that she might not only be able to have that lovely restaurant dinner and the new coat, but if she was careful with the rest of the money owed her, she might actually be able to stay on in her rooms until Christmas. She hurried to Lottie’s side as the older women took their turns at auditioning.
“Congratulations!” she breathed as Lottie struggled to refasten her skirt.
Lottie nodded her thanks as Hannah said a little hurriedly, glancing down to check her lapel watch, “I’ll be running along now, I’ve another pupil coming at three…ah, I imagine you’ll be leaving on tour soon, how many more lessons do you think you’ll be able to fit in before you do?”
“Whad d’ya think I yam? Loony?” Lottie laughed. “I got the jarb, did’n I?”
“I mean, that is to say, you’ll get new parts, and you’ll want to get them right, won’t you?” Hannah asked, not liking the supercilious smile on Lottie’s carmined lips at all.
“But I,” Lottie said with great care, enunciating as carefully as Hannah had taught her to do, “cahn do ahlmost anything I attempt, cahn I not? For I am an actress, am I not? Cheez, Hanner,” she said with a more natural curl to her lip, “can’t let a meal ticket go, canya? Gettin’ greedy, ain’tcha?”
Hannah grew pale. “No, Lottie,” she said, “I don’t believe I am, nor do I think you do either, not if you think about it. But it’s not necessary. If you feel that way, now that you have a position, you can pay me what you owe me and I’ll be on my way.”
Lottie stared at her.
“I know it’s a large sum, but you usually get an advance when you go on tour, and if it isn’t large enough, we can work out some sort of payment system, you can mail me what you can from week to week…well, every two weeks then,” Hannah said, as Lottie laughed.
“Here,” Lottie said, reaching into her handbag and drawing out some bills. “That should do it.”
It was Hannah’s turn to stare. “Lottie,” she said when she could, as Lottie turned around to watch the dancers begin their auditions, “this is…this is only payment for three lessons. I’ve been giving you them for weeks…here,” she scrabbled in her own handbag and pulled out a notebook and riffled through it frantically. “August 7th and 9th, two on August 12th, August 14th, and then that long session that I agreed could count as only three on August 16th, and…and…Lottie,” she said, so agitated she stammered. “L-look here, here it is: the total is eighteen lessons. You’ve only paid for three!”
Lottie turned and grinned. “So what?” she said with the impudent smile Hannah had taught her for audition for the ingenue inSpringtime Girl.
“So…so…but it’seighteen!” Hannah said, suddenly seeing a little nasty tilt to the smile that she hadn’t taught, and finally understanding why Lottie hadn’t got that part.
“Yeahr? Well, prove it!” Lottie said triumphantly. “Whad’d’ya gonna do? Sue me? Run afta me? Yeahr. Get owda here,” she scoffed.
Hannah trembled with rage. She’d given Lottie lessons on the understanding that they’d all be paid for when they came to fruition. They’d decided that on the day Lottie had come to her little studio to beg for acting lessons. It wouldn’t beeasy for a shop girl who aspired to the theater, yet Lottie’s fervently voiced dream had touched her heart—even if that same rough, coarse voice had grated on her ear. Still, Hannah knew the theater, and knew Lottie’s spectacular looks and natural theatricality would get her in the door, and if only something could be done about that voice…
But she was supposed to be an acting teacher, wasn’t she? It had been a challenge as well as a charity, disguised as a gamble. Now it seemed she’d known more about the theater than human nature. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
“You’re jesting, aren’t you?” Hannah asked with sinking hopes as she saw Lottie’s sneer. “But youoweit to me, Lottie, you do!”
“Wouldya quit it, hah?” Lottie screeched. “Shut yer fly trap! An’ learn me be!”
“How very entertaining,” a not very amused voice cut in. “And here I thought we were auditioning the sopranosafterthe tenors. Or could it be you wish to sing as well as be our ingenue, Miss…ah, Lesley? But surely that was a burlesque song you were just singing, was it not?” Kyle Harper asked, as silence fell over the stage and the diminished audience of those hired on and those few still waiting to audition looked on.
“Wouldya beleeve it? She gimme a few poynters an’ she wants ta bleed me white fer it ferever,” Lottie cried out in her normal hoarse, flat tones. “The crust of some persons, huh?” she said somewhat more quietly as she saw Kyle Harper’s expression. “It is certainly something, ain’t it…ah…” she said before she fell still.
He passed a hand through his hair as he swung around to see that all the rejected ingenues had left the theater. Then he snatched up a thin book and stalked over to Lottie. Hannah, who’d been standing in the shadows, shrunk even farther back, but his burning eyes were on no one but Lottie. He flipped the book open, thrust it at her, and pointed to a place with one long finger.
“Read!” he commanded.
“Er,” Lottie said, as she swallowed, cast one side-wise look at Hannah, another up to Kyle, and then bit her lip as she looked at the book again.
“…Er, here?” she asked, and as he gave a brief nod, she cleared her throat and read, in a much softer voice than she’d used moments before. “?‘Tis known before; our prep-preperashun stanze in expectashuns of them,’?” she read. “?‘O dear Fodder,it is thy bizz-ness thad I go about, therefore great Franze…’ She stumbled on, until he cried, “Enough!”
“Enough,” he sighed. “Ah, William, forgive us,” he said to the ceiling, before he stared down at Lottie again. “Alas, Cordelia. Cordelia—the very heart of ‘Lear’—’Lear’ the heart of any touring company…you play her like the rump of it,” he said flatly. “And yet, and yet you virtuallysangus Portia. How comes this?” he demanded.
Lottie paused a moment, and then, after daring to meet his eyes, said sullenly, jerking a thumb behind her, “Hadda teecha. Her. Miz Roberts.”
“You trainedherto do that sublime Portia?” he asked Hannah wonderingly, and then his eyes opened wider as she stepped out from the shadows.
“Well, she really has the most amazing facility,” Hannah said at once, determined to be fair. “Rather like a parrot, actually…”
