But though you
call your work an opera Mr. Gay, it is also a play. The songs are not
everything--indeed, Mr. Rich would say they're nothing. Can the girl
act?"
"She can be taught and I'll swear she'll prove an apt pupil. 'Twill, I
fear, be many months before it is staged. Rich has not made up his mind.
I hear Mr. Huddy who was dispossessed of the Duke's Theatre contemplates
the New Theatre in the Haymarket. I must talk to him. He hasn't yet
found his new company. An indifferent lot of strolling players I'm told
was his old one. Polly probably won't have a singing part but that's of
no great matter just now."
"You're bound to build castles in the air Mr. Gay," said Dr. Arbuthnot,
taking his churchwarden from his lips. "Suppose you come down to _terra
firma_ for a brief space. The girl is a singer--that cannot be gainsaid.
She may become an actress--good. But now--who is she? Her father--her
mother----"
"They can hardly be said to exist," broke in Gay. "I will tell you the
story later on. 'Twould but embarrass her to relate it now. The duchess
has been good enough to charge herself with the cost of her keeping--her
schooling and the rest."
"Oh, that alters the case. If she is a protegee of her grace I need not
say more. Her future is provided for."
"Why, yes," but Gay spoke in anything but a confident tone. Inwardly he
was troubled at what view Mat Prior's "Kitty" might take of Polly's
escapade.
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