you.”
“That’s because they know nothing about you,” Duff said. “I will introduce you, then they will know you.”
“I think it would be better if I dinnae go,” Skye said. “Besides, after we are married, I will no longer work for my father, so I feel I should give him all the time I can.”
“If you won’t go, then I won’t either.”
“Duff Tavish MacCallister, how dare you do that to me!” Skye said. “Don’t saddle me with the responsibility of you not going.”
“I just meant …”
“I know what you meant,” Skye said, interrupting him. “Duff, you must go to the play. I would be very upset with you if you did not. Go, then come back and tell me all about it.”
“I’ll do better than that,” Duff said. “If you won’t go to meet my kinsmen, then I shall bring them here to meet you.”
Skye smiled. “Aye, now that I would like. I have read of them in the newspaper. They are quite famous in America, you know.”
“Are they?”
“Aye. ‘Twill be a grand thing to meet them, I am thinking.”
Campbell’s Music Saloon on Argyle Street, Glasgow—April 5
Duff MacCallister was a reserve captain in 42nd Foot, Third Battalion of the Royal Highland Regiment of Scots. As such, when he arrived at the theater he was wearing the kilt of the Black Watch, complete with a
He went inside the theater to the “will call” counter.
“The name is MacCallister. I am not certain, but I believe you may have a ticket for me.”
“Indeed I do, sir,” the clerk replied. “Just a moment, please.” The clerk called one of the ushers over. “Timothy, would you be for taking Captain MacCallister to the green room? Introduce him to the stage manager, Mr. Fitzhugh. He will know what to do.”
“Aye,” the usher said. “Come, Captain.”
Duff followed the usher down a side corridor to an area behind the stage.
“I heard Mr. Service call you MacCallister. Be ye a kinsman to Andrew and Rosanna MacCallister?”
“I am told that is so, though I confess that I have never met them,” Duff said.
“They are quite famous in theater,” Timothy said. “We are very lucky to have them come to Glasgow to perform.”
They came to a large room with chairs and sofas, as well as tea and biscuits.
“’Tisn’t green,” Duff said.
“Beg pardon, sir?” Timothy asked.
“He said take me to a green room. This room isn’t green.”
The usher laughed. “It’s what they call the room where the actors can gather off stage. I think the first one must have been green, now ‘tis the name for all.”
“Makes no sense to me,” Duff said.
“Aye, nor does it make sense to me,” Timothy said. “There is much about the theater that makes no sense to one who is not in the business. But ‘tis a good job to have.”
There were several men and women standing about in costumes and stage makeup, talking among themselves in words and phrases that were unique and exclusive to their profession.
“George was out on the apron, corpsing while we were working out the blocking. He had me so flummoxed that I didn’t know whether to go stage left or stage right,” a young woman was saying.
“Had it been me, I would have just given my exit line and stepped behind the backcloth,” a young man said, and they all laughed.
“Mr. Fitzhugh, this is Captain MacCallister,” the usher said, introducing Duff to an older, bald-headed man who was wearing square-rim glasses, which were situated far down on his nose. He was looking at notes he had fastened to a clipboard.
“Ah yes, Captain,” Mr. Fitzhugh said. “Mr. MacCallister was hoping you would come. If you would wait here, sir, I shall summon him.”
“Thank you,” Duff said. He moved over to one side of the room, providing some separation between himself and the players in costume and makeup. He noticed that one or two of the young women seemed to be paying special attention to him, and he looked away self-consciously.
Suddenly all the conversation stopped.
“Mr. MacCallister, can I do something for you?” someone asked.
Duff looked up, thinking the person was talking to him, but saw that he was talking to another person, a man who was in his early fifties and carrying himself with great dignity. Like the others, he was in costume and makeup.
“No, thank you, relax, relax,” the man said. Spying Duff, a broad smile spread across his face. “Cousin Duff, how good of you to come,” he said, extending his hand.
