“Is he away now?” “Yes.” “And how do you pass your time?” “I write a good deal. Some day I hope to get a story accepted by one of the magazines; but it is so hard for a beginner to find an opening.” “Yet when I offered to give you a start in the chorus of the best theater in London,—a thing, mind you, that thousands of girls are aching for,—you refused.” [Pg 11] [Pg 11] “I’m sorry, Millie dear; but I am not cut out for the stage. It does not appeal to me.” “Heigho! Tastes differ. Stick to your beetles, then, and marry your professor.” Helen laughed, with a fresh joyousness that was good to hear. “Herr von Eulenberg is blessed with an exceedingly stout wife and five very healthy children already,” she cried. “Then that settles it. You’re mad, quite mad! Let us talk of something else. Do you ever have a holiday? Where are you going this year? I’m off to Champèry when the theater closes.” “Champèry,—in Switzerland, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Ah, that is the dream of my life,—to see the everlasting snows; to climb those grand, solemn mountains; to cross the great passes that one reads of in the travel books. Now at last you have made me envious. Are you going alone? But of course that is a foolish question. You intend to join others from the theater, no doubt?” “Well—er—something of the sort. I fear my enthusiasm will not carry me far on the lines that would appeal to you. I suppose you consider a short skirt, strong boots, a Tyrolese hat, and an alpenstock to be a sufficient rig-out, whereas my mountaineering costumes will fill five large trunks and three hat boxes. I’m afraid, Helen, we don’t run on the same rails, as our American cousins say.” There was a little pause. Millicent’s words, apparently [Pg 12]tossed lightly into the air after a smoke spiral, had in them a touch of bitterness, it might be of self analysis. Her guest seemed to take thought before she answered:
Prev.
Back
Top