"To the ballet with such a voice and such an ear!"
Nicolette, on the verge of tears, approached Cabinski.
"I told you that I could not sing just now. … I had not even time to glance at my part."
"Aha, so you cannot, madame? … Please hand me the role! …
Kaczkowska will sing it."
"I can sing, but just now I am unable to … I don't want to flunk!"
"To turn the heads of gentlemen, to make intrigues, to slander others before the press reporters, to go gallivanting all about town … for that you have time!" hissed Mrs. Cabinska.
"Oh, go and mind your children … but don't you dare to meddle with my affairs."
"Director! She insults me, that … "
"Hand me the part," ordered Cabinski. "You can sing in the chorus, madame, since you are unable to sing a role."
"Oh no! … Just for that I am going to sing it! … I don't care a snap for these vile intrigues!"
"Who are you saying that to?" cried Cabinska, jumping up from her chair. "Well, to you, if you like."
"You are dismissed from the company!" interposed Cabinski.
"Oh, go to the devil, all of you!" shouted Nicolette throwing the role into Cabinski's face. "It's known long ago that in your company there is no place for a respectable woman!"
"Get out of here, you adventuress!"
Cabinska sprang at her, but halfway across she stopped short and burst into tears.
"On the right there is a sofa … it will be more comfortable for you to faint on, Madame Directress!" called someone from the chairs.
The company smiled with set faces.
"Pepa! … my wife! … calm yourself. … For God's sake can't we ever do any thing without these continual rumpuses!"
"Am I the cause of it?"
"I'm not blaming you … but you could at least calm yourself … there's no reason for you acting this way!"
"So that is the kind of husband and father you are! … that is the kind of director!" she shouted in fury.
"Hold out only one hour, and you'll go straight to heaven, you martyr!" someone called to Cabinski.
"Sir," queried a spectator, holding up one of the actors by the button of his coat. "Sir, are they playing something new?"
"First of all, that is a button from my coat which you have pulled off!" cried the actor, "and that, my dear sir, is the first act of a moving farce entitled Behind the Scenes; it is given each day with great success."
The stage became deserted. The orchestra was tuning its instruments; "Halt" went for a drink of beer, and the company scattered about the garden. Cabinski, holding his head with both hands, paced up and down the stage like a madman, complaining half in anger, half in commiseration, for his wife was still quietly continuing her spasms.
"Oh what people! What people! What scandals!"
Janina, startled by the brutality of the spectacle she had just witnessed, retreated behind the farthermost scene. She felt that it was now impossible to speak with the director.
"So these are artists! … this is the theater!" she was thinking.
The rehearsal, after a short intermission, began anew with
Kaczkowska as the titular heroine.
Majkowska was in a splendid humor, being so successfully rid of her rival.
The director, after his wife's departure, rubbed his hands in glee
and motioned to Topolski. They went out to the buffet for a drink.
Without a doubt he must have made something on his break with
Nicolette.
Stanislawski, the oldest member of the company, walked up and down the dressing-room, spitting with disgust and muttering to Mirowska, who was sitting on a chair with her feet curled up under her.
"Scandals … nothing but scandals! … how can we expect to have any success! … "
Mirowska nodded her assent, smiling faintly and keeping steadily on with the crocheting of a handkerchief.
After the rehearsal Janina boldly approached Cabinski.
"Mr. Director—" she began.
"Ah, it is you, miss? … I will accept you. Come to-morrow before the performance, and we will talk it over. I have not the time now."
"Thank you ever so much, sir!" she answered overjoyed.
"Have you any kind of a voice?"
"A voice?"
"Do you sing?"
"At home I used to sing a little … but I do not think I have a stage voice … however, I … "
"Only come a little earlier and we shall try you out. … I shall speak to the musical director."
CHAPTER III
The Lazienki Park in Warsaw was athrob with the breath of spring. The roses bloomed and the jasmines diffused their heavy odor through the park. It was so quiet and lovely there, that Janina sat for a few hours near the lake, forgetting everything.
The swans with spreading wings, like white cloudlets, floated over the azure bosom of the water; the marble statues glowed with immaculate whiteness; the fresh and luxuriant foliage was like a vast sea of emerald steeped in golden sunlight; the red blossoms of the chestnut trees floated down on the ground, the waters and the lawns, and flickered like rosy sparks among the shadows of the trees.
The noisy hum of the city reached here in a subdued echo and lost itself among the bushes.
Janina had come here straight from the theater. What she had seen disquieted her; she felt within herself a dull pain of disillusionment and hesitation.
She did not wish to remember anything, but only kept repeating to herself, "I'm in the theater! … I'm in the theater!"
There passed before her mind the figures of her future companions. Instinctively she felt that in those faces there was nothing friendly, only, envy and hypocrisy.
Presently she proceeded to her hotel at which she had stopped on the advice of her fellow-travelers, on the train to Warsaw. It was a cheap affair on the outskirts of the city and frequented chiefly by petty farm officials and
