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Authors: Clarissa Ross
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want to do this. But are you sure you have the strength?”
“I will find it,” she said. “Now you can go.”
The big man stared at her humbly. Then he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a fine woman, Fanny,” he said. “And don’t worry about the billing! I’ll make the name of Cornish known in every corner of this country! I promise you that Fanny Cornish will be a star!”
She nodded silently and the big man got up and left the room. Only then did great tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks. She lay there weeping silently until she felt asleep.
But once she had passed this crisis and made her bold resolution to carry on she recovered rapidly. In a matter of a week she was well enough to leave the hospital. In the meanwhile Peter and Nancy had become regular visitors and kept her advised about what was happening with the company.
Peter Cortez was more considerate than she had ever believed possible. He showed none of his arrogant side towards her, becoming almost gentle in his manner. He talked of the company and its success and it was apparent he had taken a new interest in improving his own talents.
At her bedside one day, he said, “Perhaps in due time I will be half the actor David was.”
She said, “Be your own man, Peter. You have talent and to spare. It only needs cultivating. No need to compare yourself with David.”
Nancy Ray usually came alone to visit her. And on her last days in the hospital she and the golden-haired girl took strolls in the gardens behind the hospital. The fresh air and exercise did much to help bring Fanny back to health.
Strolling at her side, the petite actress told her, “We are all eager to have you back.”
Fanny gave her a wry smile. “It will mean your going down to secondary roles again.”
“I don’t mind that at all. I’m not suited to be a leading lady,” Nancy said.
“I wonder how Peter and I will manage,” Fanny mused.
“He’s working hard and drinking much less,” the other girl told her. “‘I think what happened shocked him into proper behavior.”
Fanny sighed. “I shall soon know. I expect to leave here in a day or two and be able to work the following week.”
“Mr. Barnum has engaged a nice room for you in a hotel near the theatre to make it easier,” Nancy told her.
“He has been most kind to me,” Fanny agreed. “The first thing I wish to do when I’m out of the hospital is visit David’s grave and make arrangements for a proper stone. Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” Nancy said. “I was fond of David.”
So on a bleak, sunless afternoon a week later Fanny, Nancy, and the elderly owner of a monument works trudged through the cemetery outside the city limits to the spot where David was buried. There were some trees nearby and one of them, a tall elm, gave the grave some shade.
Fanny, in black bonnet and dress, stood by the grave and took in the atmosphere of the place. At last she said, “I like the location. The trees help keep it from seeming like a cemetery.”
The old tombstone manufacturer stepped up beside her. “I quite agree, Madam,” he said in a voice with a quaver. He had once been a large man but had shrunk with age, yet he still retained his older clothing, and so nothing seemed to fit him, not even his tophat which drooped over his ears. His clothes hung from him as if they had been made for some giant of a man.
Fanny told him, “I want a column about four feet high with a stand and an open volume carved on it.”
The old man nodded. “A Bible, madam?”
“No,” she said. “A volume of Shakespeare! Make that clear!”
“The name shall be carved on it,” the old man said. “And what about the wording on the column?”
Fanny said, “ David Cornish in large letters, with actor beneath and his birth and death dates. Then below them the quotation from Hamlet,
“I will find it,” she said. “Now you can go.”
The big man stared at her humbly. Then he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “You’re a fine woman, Fanny,” he said. “And don’t worry about the billing! I’ll make the name of Cornish known in every corner of this country! I promise you that Fanny Cornish will be a star!”
She nodded silently and the big man got up and left the room. Only then did great tears flow from her eyes and down her cheeks. She lay there weeping silently until she felt asleep.
But once she had passed this crisis and made her bold resolution to carry on she recovered rapidly. In a matter of a week she was well enough to leave the hospital. In the meanwhile Peter and Nancy had become regular visitors and kept her advised about what was happening with the company.
Peter Cortez was more considerate than she had ever believed possible. He showed none of his arrogant side towards her, becoming almost gentle in his manner. He talked of the company and its success and it was apparent he had taken a new interest in improving his own talents.
At her bedside one day, he said, “Perhaps in due time I will be half the actor David was.”
She said, “Be your own man, Peter. You have talent and to spare. It only needs cultivating. No need to compare yourself with David.”
Nancy Ray usually came alone to visit her. And on her last days in the hospital she and the golden-haired girl took strolls in the gardens behind the hospital. The fresh air and exercise did much to help bring Fanny back to health.
Strolling at her side, the petite actress told her, “We are all eager to have you back.”
Fanny gave her a wry smile. “It will mean your going down to secondary roles again.”
“I don’t mind that at all. I’m not suited to be a leading lady,” Nancy said.
“I wonder how Peter and I will manage,” Fanny mused.
“He’s working hard and drinking much less,” the other girl told her. “‘I think what happened shocked him into proper behavior.”
Fanny sighed. “I shall soon know. I expect to leave here in a day or two and be able to work the following week.”
“Mr. Barnum has engaged a nice room for you in a hotel near the theatre to make it easier,” Nancy told her.
“He has been most kind to me,” Fanny agreed. “The first thing I wish to do when I’m out of the hospital is visit David’s grave and make arrangements for a proper stone. Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” Nancy said. “I was fond of David.”
So on a bleak, sunless afternoon a week later Fanny, Nancy, and the elderly owner of a monument works trudged through the cemetery outside the city limits to the spot where David was buried. There were some trees nearby and one of them, a tall elm, gave the grave some shade.
Fanny, in black bonnet and dress, stood by the grave and took in the atmosphere of the place. At last she said, “I like the location. The trees help keep it from seeming like a cemetery.”
The old tombstone manufacturer stepped up beside her. “I quite agree, Madam,” he said in a voice with a quaver. He had once been a large man but had shrunk with age, yet he still retained his older clothing, and so nothing seemed to fit him, not even his tophat which drooped over his ears. His clothes hung from him as if they had been made for some giant of a man.
Fanny told him, “I want a column about four feet high with a stand and an open volume carved on it.”
The old man nodded. “A Bible, madam?”
“No,” she said. “A volume of Shakespeare! Make that clear!”
“The name shall be carved on it,” the old man said. “And what about the wording on the column?”
Fanny said, “ David Cornish in large letters, with actor beneath and his birth and death dates. Then below them the quotation from Hamlet,
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