The Silent Harp Read online

Page 4


  He’s such a fine singer and so much fun, Sharon thought. I’m going to miss all of this when it’s over.

  ****

  The next night Sharon’s parents arrived early and made their way to their excellent seats a third of the way back from the stage. Lucille entertained herself by looking around and pointing out the social and financial giants who were arriving. Finally she settled into her seat as the music began and the curtain opened.

  “Look, there she is! Isn’t she beautiful?” Lucille whispered, her eyes following her daughter as the chorus swept around the stage dancing and singing.

  “By george, she is pretty!” Leland exclaimed. “I’m sure glad she got your looks instead of mine.”

  Time passed quickly as the Winslows were caught up in the entertaining performance. As the cast took their bows, they applauded until their hands ached throughout the numerous curtain calls. A roar of approval went up for Robert as he sprinted out from the wings for his bow. “He seems like a fine young man,” Leland remarked, and then he said, “Look, he’s taking Sharon’s hand.”

  Robert had indeed grabbed Sharon’s hand as he was taking his bows, and now they smiled at each other. She curtsied, and he took a deep bow. For the Winslows, this was the crowning moment of the evening.

  “Let’s go backstage,” Leland said as the house lights came up.

  “Oh yes, I would like that very much!” Lucille took his arm, and the two wove their way through the throng. There were crowds of people backstage, including several of the Astors. Lucille beamed proudly when Agnes Astor said to her, “My dear, it’s so good to see you. Your daughter has a simply magnificent voice!”

  “Yes, and I thought your son Jeffrey did very well too.” Lucille tried to sound sincere, but in truth she was just being polite, for Jeffrey was not the great singer he imagined himself to be.

  Sharon spotted her parents and pushed her way through the people milling about. “Did you like it?” she cried, her eyes sparkling as she took their kisses and hugs.

  “It was excellent, my dear!” Leland said. “I was so proud of you, I could practically burst.”

  “You were wonderful! Just wonderful!” Lucille beamed.

  “Oh, I want you to meet the star.” She turned and grabbed Robert’s arm as he made his way past. “Robert, come meet my parents.”

  Robert smiled warmly and shook hands with her father as she introduced them. “I’m very happy to meet you,” Leland said sincerely. “I’m no authority, but I thought you sang magnificently.”

  “Very nice of you to say so, Mr. Winslow.”

  “Oh, you were so good!” Lucille agreed. “Are you a professional singer?”

  “Not yet, but I plan to be one day. Right now I’m still studying.”

  “He’s going to be a great singer!” Sharon exclaimed.

  “I spoke with Jeffrey’s mother,” Lucille said. “We’d like to say hello to him too.”

  “I saw him right over there,” Sharon said. She gave Robert a slight grimace, then turned and led her parents over to meet Jeffrey Astor. He was in better condition than he had been the previous day and took their congratulations with a smug air.

  “Your daughter has a beautiful voice,” he said. “I wanted us to do one of the duets, but it didn’t work out that way.”

  “Oh, I’m sure something could be done in future productions,” Lucille said quickly.

  “I’ll look forward to that.”

  As they moved away, Lucille said, “Of course he doesn’t sing as well as some of the others, but he’s quite presentable, don’t you think?”

  At Sharon’s hesitation to answer, Lucille gave her daughter a strong look, almost critical. “I’m thinking of inviting them over—Jeffrey and his parents.”

  Sharon found no pleasure in this, and she changed the subject at once. It had been a triumphant evening, and she didn’t want to spoil it with thoughts of her mother’s incessant matchmaking. She was so excited over the performance she knew she would hardly sleep a wink that night. But there was another performance tomorrow and two more after that, which gave her cheer as she made her way into the dressing room.

  ****

  “Why don’t we go out and get something to eat, just you and I?”

  Sharon looked up with surprise. She had changed out of her costume and exited from the ladies’ dressing room to find Robert waiting for her. Members of the cast were gathering to go out for a snack, but she had planned to go directly home. Now Robert was smiling at her, and she found she wanted very much to go with him.

  “I couldn’t stay long,” she said.

  “Just long enough to get something to eat, and we can tell each other how wonderful we were tonight. Come along.”

  “I’ll see if Franklin can give us a ride and then wait for me.”

  “Franklin? Who’s that?”

  “He works for our family. He’s waiting to take me home.”

  “Okay, let’s check with him, then.” They went out to the street, and Franklin approached.

  “I came in to watch tonight, Miss Sharon,” he told her. “I enjoyed your performance.”

  “Did you, Franklin? I’m glad you liked it.” Quickly she said, “Mr. Tyson and I are going to have a bite to eat. Would you give us a ride please?”

  “Surely, Miss Sharon.”

  “That’s some car,” Robert said. “Could you take us over to Gambino’s?”

  “That I could, sir. Get right in.”

  Gambino’s was a small Italian restaurant six blocks from the theater. Sharon had never been there, but Robert had. “You must know every Italian place in town,” she said, remembering the first time they had eaten together on the day of the auditions.

  “I know most of them. I love Italian food. I’ll probably swell up like a balloon if I don’t stop eating so much of it. Shall I order for you again?”

  The time passed pleasantly. Robert was quite witty and could easily make Sharon laugh. After the meal was over, he said, “I hate for the night to end.”

  “So do I,” she said. “But there’s always tomorrow. We’ve still got three more performances.”

  “What will you do after all this is over?” he asked.

  “I think I’ll die. It’s been so much fun, and now I have to go back to the same old routine.”

  Robert reached over and took her hand. “No, you mustn’t do that. I’ll see to it that you’re not bored. We can arrange to have our singing lessons on the same day. That way you can listen to me, and I can listen to you, and we can critique each other.”

  “That would be nice,” she said, very aware of his hand on hers. When he released her hand and stood up, she waited while he picked up her fur coat and put it over her shoulders.

  “This is quite a coat,” he said. “Just think how many little animals had to die to keep you warm.”

  “Oh, that makes me feel bad!”

  He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them lightly. “It was for a worthy cause,” he said. “They probably knew they were going to hold a beautiful girl in their embrace.”

  “You’re so silly!” Sharon said but could not help laughing.

  “You make me that way, I’m afraid.” He walked her back to the car, where Franklin was waiting, and when she got in, he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can do this again. Next time I’ll let you pick the place.”

  “All right, Robert.”

  ****

  For the next two nights the two ate at a different place after the show each night. They were the most pleasant dates Sharon had ever had. She had never been out unchaperoned before, and the freedom of being alone with Robert gave her a delicious feeling. She did not tell her parents about their dates, and when one of them mentioned that she was coming home late, she told them a half truth. “The members of the cast like to go out and get a snack after the performance. It’s really very nice.”

  Roger Hammond surprised them all before the final performance. When they gathered before warm-ups, h
e told them, “I have some good news for you. We have been invited to put on our operetta in Washington, D.C., for three days, and the proceeds will go for the starving people of Belgium.”

  Sharon turned to Robert and whispered, “My parents will never let me go.”

  “We’ll have to convince them, then. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

  Hammond waited until the excited talk died down and then said, “Some of you are, perhaps, wondering if you can go. But I urge you to make arrangements if possible. The President of the United States will attend, and there will be chaperones for all the girls, so everything will be perfectly proper.”

  “You see?” Robert laughed. “It’s going to be fine. The president will love us, I’m sure.”

  Sharon tried to join in with his enthusiasm, but she was still troubled about what her parents would say.

  ****

  Sharon’s fears had been unwarranted, for her parents were easily enough convinced when they learned the circumstances. Her father was especially proud. “Singing for the president! I wish my dad could have been here to see that. He would have been so proud of you, daughter, just as I am.”

  “When will you leave?” Lucille asked.

  “In three days. We’ll be taking the train.”

  “And there’ll be chaperones?”

  “Yes indeed. Mr. Hammond was very clear about that. It’ll be quite proper.”

  “Maybe you’ll be able to spend some time with Jeffrey,” Lucille said. “He’s such a pleasant gentleman.”

  “Perhaps,” Sharon murmured.

  ****

  The trip to Washington was the most exciting thing Sharon Winslow had ever done. The train had an elegant dining car, which the troupe easily filled by themselves. She and Robert shared a table with two of the other cast members, all of them remarking over the snow-white tablecloths, crystal glasses, china, and sparkling silverware—not to mention the delicious cuisine.

  Wanting the best for his daughter, Leland had helped to foot the bill to put the entire group up at one of Washington’s most posh hotels, reserving an entire suite for Sharon. She invited several members of the cast to her suite that evening, including Robert, of course, and the rooms were filled with laughter as they enjoyed a specially delivered meal together.

  The next day they rehearsed to get the feel of the theater, and that evening they gave their first performance. The president was not there that night or the next, but the production was well received. Every seat was filled, and each night there were celebrities in the audience. On the third and final night, the president arrived moments before the overture was to start. Sharon, peeking out between the curtains, saw him. “Robert,” she said, “there he is—the president!”

  Robert came over and put his arm around her to steady her as the two peered out the curtain. “By george, he looks just like his pictures. A fine-looking man, isn’t he?”

  “He looks pale to me.”

  “No wonder,” Robert said, straightening up and shaking his head. “This war business is bound to be a tremendous burden on him.”

  “He wants nothing but peace.”

  “That may be what he wants, but that’s not what he’s going to get,” Robert said, his face sober. “Sooner or later we’re going to be pulled into that war over in Europe. The rumor is that Germany is going to declare total submarine warfare. If they do that, we’ll be at war in thirty days.”

  His statement sobered Sharon too. She looked at Robert, thinking, He’ll be one who will have to fight. The thought depressed her, but she had no time to dwell on it, for Roy Delaney was calling for everyone to take his position for the opening scene.

  The operetta went off magnificently, with everyone doing their very best for the president. After the curtain calls, they all went backstage to greet the many visitors. Suddenly Sharon looked up and nearly dropped her jaw. There was President Wilson coming straight toward her! He stopped to shake hands with several people, and then when he came to her, he extended his hand. As Sharon grasped it, he said, “Your singing was exquisite, young lady. I enjoyed it more than I can tell you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.”

  President Wilson then turned to Robert, who was at his usual place beside Sharon. “And you, sir—I have never heard a better voice. You’re going to put Enrico Caruso to shame.”

  Robert flushed with pleasure as he shook the president’s hand. “I hardly think anyone will do that, Mr. President. It’s such an honor to have you here.”

  “It was a welcome respite from rather heavy days.”

  “I want you to know, sir, that my family and I pray for you every day. I can only imagine the tremendous burden that is on your shoulders, and our hearts are with you.”

  President Wilson grew still, examining Robert carefully. “That is very kind of you, young man, and I will not forget it. Give my best regards to your family.”

  “Yes, sir, of course.”

  As they watched the president move through the crowd, greeting others along the way, Sharon whispered into Robert’s ear, “Imagine, the president shaking hands with us. And you did so well, Robert. I could tell he was moved.”

  “I meant it. My family and I do pray for him every day, and I hope you do too.”

  “I . . . I haven’t been, but I will from now on.”

  ****

  The trip back to New York was much more subdued than the trip down. The excitement was over now, and the troupe was experiencing the natural letdown after a job well done. Sharon found herself somewhat sad that it was all over, even though meeting the president had been the high point of her life.

  “You look a little downhearted, Sharon.”

  Sharon turned to Robert, who was sitting beside her in the dining car. The meal was over, but they sat drinking coffee listening to the clickety-clack of the wheels and staring out the window. A fresh snowfall covered the landscape, making a beautiful wintry scene as it flashed by.

  “I am a little sad. It’s going to be hard to go back to things as they were.”

  “Well, we can’t be involved in a play all the time unless we become professionals. Have you ever thought of trying that?”

  “Oh, I’m not good enough for that, Robert, but you are.”

  “Nonsense. You don’t know until you try.”

  Sharon, however, knew her own limitations. “I have a good voice, but you have a marvelous voice. That’s the difference. One day you’ll be singing at the Metropolitan, maybe in Carmen, and I’ll be sitting out in the audience applauding wildly.”

  Robert smiled and shook his head. “That’s a long way off, but it’s what I hope for.” He suddenly changed the subject. “Sharon, could we see each other after we get home?”

  She had wondered what she would say if he asked her out once the show was over. She knew her parents would disapprove, and now she could not hide her dismay.

  “Don’t you like me at all, Sharon?”

  “Like you? Why, of course I like you!”

  “Then why not see me?”

  “It’s my parents. They are very careful about my social contacts and would have to approve.”

  “Well, I want to put myself forward as a candidate to come courting. Would you ask me to call so I can meet them? They seem like very good people indeed.”

  “Oh, they are,” she said. “It’s just that—”

  Robert suddenly got the picture. “I think I see. If my family name were Astor there wouldn’t be any problem, would there?”

  “They . . . want me to marry well.”

  “By ‘well’ they mean wealthy, I suppose.”

  “Yes, that’s part of it.” Sharon found it hard to formulate her parents’ attitude. Now that he had asked to come call on her, however, she hoped she could persuade them to accept Robert. “Yes, come next Tuesday,” she said. “We’ll be glad to have you.”

  ****

  Robert’s visit at the Winslow home did not meet with the success Sharon had hoped for. As they said
good-night on the front steps, he held her hand and said, “I’m sorry I was a disappointment to your parents.”

  “Oh, don’t say that!”

  “It’s pretty obvious they would not be happy with me as a suitor. I’m sorry about that, but I can’t change what I am.”

  Sharon could not think of a good response. “I enjoyed the evening, but I enjoyed our meals out together much better.”

  “Will I see you at Mr. Dartman’s day after tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Good night, Robert.”

  When she went back in, she found her parents still in the drawing room. They both looked at her, and a moment of silence passed among the three of them. “A very nice gentleman,” Lucille said.

  “Oh, very personable,” Leland added quickly. “You say his parents are in the dry cleaning business in Buffalo?”

  “Yes, Dad. I’m sure they’re very nice people, although I haven’t met them.”

  “It was nice to have him visit. Of course, now that the play is over you won’t be seeing him anymore.”

  Sharon almost said, Yes, I’ll be seeing him at my singing lessons, but something prompted her to keep that back.

  Leland lit a cigar, and the silence in the room seemed thick. Sharon wanted to defend her right to see Robert, but she felt she was outnumbered.

  Leland blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “I think it might be best if you not make friends among this theatrical group. Some of them are very nice, I’m sure, but your mother and I envisioned a more apt group of friends for you.” He got up, came over, and put his arm around Sharon. “I was so proud of your performance in the play, but you ought to concentrate now on other things.”

  Sharon was crushed. She could not argue and only said, “I’m quite tired. I think I’ll go to bed. Good night.”

 

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