Magazine 'The Bystander' of the 12th of June 1918, pages 21 until 25., item 3

Edit transcription:

...

Transcription saved

Enhance your transcribing experience by using full-screen mode

Transcription

You have to be logged in to transcribe. Please login or register and click the pencil-button again

468

The Bystander, June 12, 1918

ADRIENNE—WHY NOT?

BY CHARLOTTE FRANKLYN

They were

almost the

first words

of the English language

she had learnt, which is

not surprising, for her first

instructor, during those early weeks of the refugee

rush to Folkestone, had been a flirtatious young

subaltern of Kitchener's Army, pleading for kisses.

And when she refused, he would insist, repeating

with obstinate emphasis:

"Why not, Adrienne? —why not?"

In time they became her own, and their meaning,

quickly grasped and assimilated, the coping-stone

of her gay philosophy.

Madame Lemercier, when sufficiently roused by

her daughter's iconoclastic conduct from her stupor

of contemplation of the family misfortunes, would

remonstrate.

"To promenade oneself alone with a young man

unknown!" she would exclaim with horror-uplifted

hands.

"It is the English custom," was Adrienne's calm

rejoinder. "I learn the language, so—" with a typically

French shrug allied to the foreign phrase— "après tout,

why not?"

And she certainly picked up the language with

extraordinary rapidity, so that, at the end of three

months' time, she announced to Madame Lemercier

that she had accepted a post as French correspondent

in a large Government office.

"But Adrienne, to work in an office! What have

you come to? In your position!"

"I shall soon have a better position, dear, when

I have some experience," answered Adrienne.

"And I will give you each week half my earnings,

that we may be independent of the Comité d'Assistance.

Why not?"

And Madame Lemercier's inborn sense of the practical

forbade her a rejoinder.

In her Government office, Adrienne was as a straight

young spear of corn amongst poppies. In a milieu

of multi-coloured crêpe-de-Chine-befrilled maidens

her severe white tailored shirt with the high collar,

and smart black moiré bow, was a relief to the harassed

male eye. She had, moreover, been well educated,

and took and displayed an unusual, and not quite

genteel (according to her lady companions), interest

in what she wrote and translated.

Markham, the famous variety agent, coming to

Kingsway for papers in connection with a forthcoming

trip to Paris, waited vainly for attention

whilst five young lady denizens of Balham and Tooting

tried on in leisured succession on of Messrs. Worne

and Collingsworth's latest creations in headgear—

"Only 12s. 11 3/4d., my dear!" Adrienne, at the

furthest end of the room, watched the comedy awhile

with a Frenchwoman's enjoyment; then took pity on

Markham. A conversation in her native language

ensued. She had read the plays he was going to

negotiate for; the names of the playwrights also

she had heard.

On his return from Paris, in need of a stenographer,

Markham sought out the neat young "dactylographe"

in the — Office; offered her the position, and an

increased salary, if she would care to accept it.

"Why not?"

shrugged Adrienne,

and forsook Kingsway

for Shaftesbury

Avenue.

So within the next eighteen

months she became Markham's right hand, and

in that capacity saw much of the "leading lights"

(and shadows) of the London stage. Included

amongst the former was "Pip," the great Entente

revue producer, about to stage a French importation

of Markham's. In search of an efficient

stenographer to take down notes at rehearsals,

"Pip" borrowed Adrienne, who sat in an obscure

corner, and watched closely, as "Pip" waxed

desperate.

"This calls itself an Anglo-French revue," he

wailed to Markham, "and they've got about as

much sparkle in them as German champagne!"

"Pip's" pièce de résistance was to be a little scene

for the great comedian, a dainty, witty little scene,

in which, in broadest cockney, he should demonstrate

to the little concierge of a French establishment

the true interpretation of L'Entente Cordiale — a

delicious little scene, full of finesse, of esprit, of Gallic

cuteness. The comedian, being that rarity an actor

as well, was perfection, the ladies successively engaged

to support him utterly insupportable. The English

ones endeavoured to be "Frenchy," the French to

be blonde and babyish in imitation of the musical

comedy idols of England.

Vainly the ample Tiny Tim perspired; vainly "Pip"

raved.

"She looks like a smart hotel clerk, does she not?"

he asked with heavy sarcasm of Adrienne, as together

they surveyed the latest recruit's elephantine efforts

at badinage.

Then, some moments later: "Tim wants a pencil

for this business—lend him yours, please, Mademoiselle

Lemercier."

Adrienne obediently rose from her obscure corner,

walked sedately to the centre of the stage, and with

her little ironic smile of the eyes alone, an indescribable

"geste," a suggestion of a mocking bow, and a murmured

"Monsieur!" presented the required article

to the great star. "Pip," as he watched her movements

in gloomy abstraction, received a sudden

inspiration from the gods. That finesse! That

espiègliere! That Gallic cuteness! That gay insouciance

of a Frenchwoman's inimitable walk!

When she returned to the corner his eyes were

bright.

"Do that again!" he commanded tensely. One

of Adrienne's great assets in business, perhaps her

greatest, was her gift of silence. With but a

slight raising of her straight black brows, she

obeyed.

"Read the part!" was "Pip's" next command,

and when she had done so: "I engage you to play

it, if you will, Mademoiselle?"

"Why not?" thought Adrienne.

But the announcement of her forthcoming début,

when she returned that evening to the little flat in

Kensington, roused Mme. Lemercier first to anger,

then to tears. Adrienne, actrice! The bonne bourgeoise

was in revolt at the thought, and Adrienne

(All rights strictly reserved)

(Continued on page 470)