STIRRING TROUBLED WATERS
Playing in New York one evening on this her return, Carrie was putting the finishing touches to her toilet before leaving for the night, when a commotion near the stage door caught her ear.
It included a familiar voice.
"Never mind, now.I want to see Miss Madenda."
"You'll have to send in your card."
"Oh, come off! Here."
A half-dollar was passed over, and now a knock came at her dressing-room door.
Carrie opened it.
"Well, well!" said Drouet."I do swear! Why, how are you? I knew that was you the moment I saw you."
Carrie fell back a pace, expecting a most embarrassing conversation.
"Aren't you going to shake hands with me? Well, you're a dandy!
That's all right, shake hands."
Carrie put out her hand, smiling, if for nothing more than the man's exuberant good-nature.Though older, he was but slightly changed.The same fine clothes, the same stocky body, the same rosy countenance.
"That fellow at the door there didn't want to let me in, until I
paid him.I knew it was you, all right.Say, you've got a great show.You do your part fine.I knew you would.I just happened to be passing to night and thought I'd drop in for a few minutes.
I saw your name on the programme, but I didn't remember it until you came on the stage.Then it struck me all at once.Say, you could have knocked me down with a feather.That's the same name you used out there in Chicago, isn't it?"
"Yes," answered Carrie, mildly, overwhelmed by the man's assurance.
"I knew it was, the moment I saw you.Well, how have you been, anyhow?"
"Oh, very well," said Carrie, lingering in her dressing-room.
She was rather dazed by the assault."How have you been?"
"Me? Oh, fine.I'm here now."
"Is that so?" said Carrie.
"Yes.I've been here for six months.I've got charge of a branch here."
"How nice!"
"Well, when did you go on the stage, anyhow?" inquired Drouet.
"About three years ago," said Carrie.
"You don't say so! Well, sir, this is the first I've heard of it.
I knew you would, though.I always said you could act--didn't I?"