and ghastliest, a
dress rehearsal, which began at seven o'clock one night and lasted till
four the next morning.

It would all have been so ludicrously easy, Rose used to reflect in
despair, if, like the other girls in the sextette, she'd had only her
own part in the performance to attend to--only to get into her costumes
at the right time, be waiting in the wings for the cue, and then come on
and do the things they'd taught her to do. But, between Goldsmith and
Block, who were now in a state of frantic activity and full of insane
suggestions, and the wardrobe mistress who was always having to be told
how to do something, every minute was occupied. She would try
desperately to keep an ear alert for what was happening on the stage, in
order to be on hand for her entrances. But, in spite of her, it
sometimes happened that she'd be snatched from something by a furious
roar from Galbraith.

"Miss Dane!" And then, when she appeared, bewildered, contrite. "You
_must_ attend to the rehearsal. Those other matters can be attended to
at some other time. If necessary, I can stop the rehearsal and wait till
you're at liberty. But I can't pretend to rehearse and be kept waiting."

She never made any excuses; just took her place with a nod of
acquiescence. But she often felt like doing as some of the rest of them
did; felt it would be a perfectly enormous relief to shriek out
incoherent words of abuse, burst into tears and sobs, and rush from the
stage. Her position--her new position, she fancied, would entitle her to
do that--once. And then the notion that she was saving up that luxurious
possibility for some time when it would do the most good, would bring
back her old smile. And Galbraith, lost in wonder at her already, would
wonder anew.

They followed the traditions of the Globe in giving _The Girl Up-stairs_
its try-out in Milwaukee--four performances; from a Thursday to a
Saturday night, with rehearsals pretty much all the time in between.

About all that this hegira meant to Rose was that she got two solid
hours' sleep on the train going up on Thursday afternoon and another two
hours on the train coming back on Sunday morning. She had domesticated
herself automatically, in the little hotel across from the theater, and
she had gone right on working just as she did at the Globe. Oddly
enough, she didn't differentiate much between rehearsals and the
performances. Perhaps because she was so absorbed with her labors off
the