“Yes. The young lady who played Katherine.”
“This way,” the young man exclaimed snappily, but in no unpleasant tone. He led the way along the row of seats, down an isle and through a very narrow door that seemed to be made of black oil cloth.
Dorothy had no time to think of what was going to happen. It had all come about so quickly—she hardly knew how to proceed now—what name to ask for—or whether or not to give her own in case it was demanded. She wondered what the actress would think of her if Katherine did not turn out to be Tavia.
“You mean Miss Riceman,” the usher went on as he closed the narrow door. “This way, please,” and, the next moment, Dorothy found herself behind the scenes in a big city theatre.
The place was a maze of doors and passageways. Wires and ropes were in a seeming tangle overhead and all about were big wooden frames covered with painted canvas—scenes and flies that slid in and out at the two sides of a stage, and make up a very important part of a theatrical company’s outfit.
These immense canvases seemed to be all over, and every time Dorothy tried to walk toward a door indicated by her guide, who had suddenly disappeared, she found she was in front of or behind some depiction of a building, or the side of a house or a street. Mechanics were busy all about her.
Suddenly a girl thrust her head from one of the many doors and shouted to an unseen person:
“Nellie! Nellie, dear! I’m ready for that ice-cream soda. Get into your street togs quick or you’ll be having soup instead—”
“Nellie! Nellie!” came in a chorus from all sides, though the owners of the voices remained hidden, and then there rang out through the big space a spontaneous burst of a line from the chorus of the old song:
“I was seeing Nellie home. I was seeing Nellie home. It was from Aunt Dinah’s quilting party, I was seeing Nellie home.”
“Ha! Ha! How’s that, Nellie?” inquired a deep bass voice.
Dorothy stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. This was better than the play, she thought, as she vaguely wondered what sort of life must be led behind the scenes. Then the thought of her position sent a chill over her. She must seek out the performer who went by the name of Miss Riceman, and then—