The Gay Cockade | Page 7

of the success of his play. "It can't fail," he said, "with Ursula

to make it sure--"
I wondered whether it was Ursula or Elise who had made it sure. Could
he ever have written it if Elise had not kept him at it? Yet she had
stolen his youth!
And now Ursula was giving his youth back to him! As I saw the cock
of his head, heard the ring of his gay laughter, I felt that it might be so.
And suddenly I knew that I didn't want Jimmie to be young again. Not
if he had to take his youth from the hands of Ursula Simms!
There were many toasts before the supper ended--and the last one
Jimmie drank "To Ursula"! As he stood up to propose it, his glasses
dangled from their ribbon, his shoulders were squared. In the soft and
shaded light we were spared the gray in his hair--it was the old Jimmie,
gay and gallant!
"To Ursula!" he said, and the words sparkled. "To Ursula!"
I looked at Elise. She might have been the ghost of the woman who had
flamed in the old house in Albemarle. In her white and pearls she was
shadowy, unsubstantial, almost spectral, but she raised her glass. "To
Ursula!" she said.
All the way home on the train Duncan and I talked about it. We were
scared to death. "Oh, he mustn't, he must not," I kept saying, and
Duncan snorted.
"He's a young fool. She's not the woman for him--"
"Neither of them is the woman," I said, "but Elise has made him--"
"No man was ever held by gratitude."
"He'd hate Ursula in a year."
"He thinks he'd live--"
"And lose his soul--"

* * * * *
Jimmie's play opened to a crowded house. There had been extensive
advertising, and Ursula had a great following.
Elise and Duncan and I had seats in an upper box. Elise sat where she
was hidden by the curtains. Jimmie came and went unseen by the
audience. Between acts he was behind the scenes. Elise had little to say.
Once she reached over and laid her hand on mine.
"I--I think I'm frightened," she said, with a catch of her breath.
"It can't fail, my dear--"
"No, of course. But it's very different from what I expected."
"What is different?"
"Success."
As the great scene came closer, I seemed to hold my breath. I was so
afraid that the audience might not see it as we had seen it at rehearsal.
But they did see it, and it was a stupendous thing to sit there and watch
the crowd, and know that Jimmie's genius was making its heart beat
fast and faster. When Ursula in her purple cloak and pheasant's feather
spoke her lines at the end of the third act, "_I shall love you for a
million years_," the house went wild. Men and women who had never
loved for a moment roared for this woman who had made them think
they could love until eternity. They wanted her back and they got her.
They wanted Jimmie and they got him. Ursula made a speech; Jimmie
made a speech. They came out for uncounted curtain-calls,
hand-in-hand. The play was a success!
The last act was, of course, an anti-climax. Before it was finished, Elise
said to me, in a, stifled voice, "I've got to get back to Jimmie."
It seemed significant that Jimmie had not come to her. Surely he had
not forgotten the part she had played. For fifteen years she had worked

for this.
We found ourselves presently behind the scenes. The curtain was down,
the audience was still shouting, everybody was excited, everybody was
shaking hands. The stage-people caught at Elise as she passed, and held
her to offer congratulations. I was not held and went on until I came to
where Jimmie and Ursula stood, a little separate from the rest.
Although I went near enough to touch them, they were so absorbed in
each other that they did not see me. Ursula was looking up at Jimmie
and his head was bent to her.
"Jimmie," she said, and her rich voice above the tumult was clear as a
bell, "do you know how great you are?"
"Yes," he said. "I--I feel a little drunk with it, Ursula."
"Oh," she said, and now her words stumbled, "I--I love you for it. Oh,
Jimmie, Jimmie, let's run away and love for a million years--"
All that he had wanted was in her words--the urge of youth, the beat of
the wind, the song of the sea. My heart stood still.
He drew back a little. He had wanted this. But he did not want it
now--with Ursula. I saw it and she saw it.
"What a joke