Mrs. Bradley. But--

Yardsley. No, no! Your word isn't "but," Mrs. Bradley. It's (consulting book)--it's: "Insolent! You will cross my path once too often, and then--

Enter Bradley.

Mrs. Bradley. I know that, but I don't say that to him!

Bradley. Of course not. She says it to me.

Barlow. Well, of all the stupidity--

Perkins. Another unseemly fracas. Another veil. B-r-r-r-r. (Drops curtain.) There may be a hitch in the play, but there won't be in this curtain. I tell you that right now. B-r-r-r-r.

[Raises curtain.

Mrs. Perkins. Well, I don't pretend to understand the difficulty.

She certainly does say that to Featherhead.

Barlow. Of course!--it's right there in the book.

Bradley. That's exactly what I say. It's in the book; but you would come on.

Barlow. Well, why shouldn't I?

Enter Miss Andrews.

Miss Andrews. What seems to be the trouble?

Perkins. I give it up. Collision somewhere up the road.

Yardsley (turning over the leaves of the play-book). Oh, I see the trouble--it's all right. Bradley is mixed up a little, that's all.

"Fenderson Featherhead" is his cue--but it comes later, Brad.

Bradley. Later? Well (glances in book)--no--it comes now,

Barlow. Are you blind? Can you read? See there! [Points into book.

Yardsley. No--you keep still, Jack. I'll fix it. See here, Bradley. This is the place you are thinking of. When Cobb says to Lady Ellen "Fenderson Featherhead," you enter the room, and in a nervous aside you mutter: "What, he! Does he again dare to cross my path?" That's the way of it.

Barlow. Certainly--that's it, Brad. Now get off, and let me go on, will you?

Mrs. Perkins. I'm sure it's a perfectly natural error, Mr. Bradley.

Mrs. Bradley. But he's right, my dear Bess. The others are wrong.

Edward doesn't--

Bradley. I don't care anything about it, but I'm sure I don't know what else to do. If I am to play Fenderson--

Barlow (in amazement). You?

Yardsley (aghast). Fenderson? By all that is lovely, what part have you learned?

Bradley. The one you told me to learn in your message--Featherhead, of course.

Barlow. But that's my part!

Mrs. Perkins. Of course it is, Mr. Bradley. Mr. Barlow is to be--

Mrs. Bradley. But that's what Edward was told. I saw the message myself.

Yardsley (sinking into a chair dejectedly). Why, Ed Bradley! I never mentioned Featherhead. You were to be Muddleton!

Bradley. Me?

Mrs. Bradley. What?

Yardsley. Certainly. There's nothing the matter with Barlow, and he's cast for Featherhead. You've learned the wrong part!

Bradley (searching his pockets). Here's the telegram. There (takes message from pocket), read that. There are my instructions.

Yardsley (grasps telegram and reads it. Drops it to floor). Well, I'll be jiggered!

[Buries his face in his hands.

Mrs. Perkins (picking up message and reading aloud). "Can you take Fenderson's part in to-night's show? Answer at once. Yardsley."

Barlow. Well, that's a nice mess. You must have paresis, Bob.

Perkins. I was afraid he'd get it sooner or later. You need exercise, Yardsley. Go pull that curtain up and down a half-dozen times and it'll do you good.

Bradley. That telegram lets me out.

Mrs. Bradley. I should say so.

Perkins. Lets us all out, seems to me.

Yardsley. But--I wrote Henderson, not Fenderson. That jacka.s.s of a telegraph operator is responsible for it all. "Will you take Henderson's part?" is what I wrote, and he's gone and got it Fenderson. Confound his--

Mrs. Perkins. But what are we going to do? It's quarter-past six now, and the curtain is to rise at 8.30.

Perkins. I'll give 'em my unequalled imitation of Sandow lifting the curtain with one hand. Thus. [Raises curtain wish right hand.

Yardsley. For goodness' sake, man, be serious. There are seventy- five people coming here to see this performance, and they've paid for their tickets.

Mrs. Perkins. It's perfectly awful. We can't do it at all unless Mr. Bradley will go right up stairs now and learn--

Mrs. Bradley. Oh, that's impossible. He's learned nearly three hundred lines to-day already. Mr. Barlow might--