Mr. Perceval Gordon, it appeared, was expected to play seven parts, at the least, during the season, and must be "letter-perfect" in the first one by that very night. It was, however, but a small rôle; that of an old man, who conveniently expired at the end of the first act in great agony. It was, the manager explained, a "fat acting part," though there weren't many lines to speak; and--yes, certainly, a juvenile lead was occasionally expected to play old men or, indeed, to do anything he was asked to do; and an amateur like Mr. Gordon might think himself jolly lucky to get varied experience under such stage management as he would find in the Human Flower's company. This particular piece, a melodrama called "The Dead Hand," had been chosen for the closing night of the engagement at Modunk because the part for the juvenile lead wasn't too long or difficult to "get up in" with one rehearsal, which they would have after noon; and indeed the Dead Hand was to be that of Mr. Gordon himself. He would appear as a ghost near the end of the last act, and wave the said hand behind a gauze, with strong lime-light turned upon it; which was the scene which made the part so "fat." Also, incidentally, at a ball, he would be asked to "walk on" as a young gentleman of fashion. Could he waltz? Good! Then he should have Mrs. Jacobus for his partner, as she liked a decent dancer in that scene, where she had experienced considerable trouble with awkward brutes who stepped on her "party dress." Mrs. Jacobus--known professionally as Miss Thora Moon, was--her husband went on to state--Miss de Lisle's leading lady, who played adventuresses, villainesses, and important parts of that ilk, to the Human Flower's soubrettes and ingenues.
"My wife had some money--when I married her," he mentioned, with an introspective look, accompanied by a faint sigh. Thus Loveland was enabled to guess how it was that Mr. Jacobus might have been induced to forget his early _penchant_ for Miss de Lisle, Bill's "little gal."
A bitter wind was blowing, but exercise kept Loveland warm, and he did not envy Jacobus the overcoat, which the actor was obliged to hold together with one cold, red hand (as several buttons were missing) while he frantically seized the brim of his silk hat with the other, each time they turned a corner. At last they came into the town of Modunk, which consisted of one long business thoroughfare, named, of course, Main Street, and various other avenues sacred to the home, branching off from it at right angles and regular intervals.