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"Just a moment," said mother, in a fridgid tone. "Am I to understand that this this Mr. Egleston is " "He is my Husband." Ah, dear Dairy, that I might then and there have passed away. But I did not. I stood there, with my heart crushed, until I felt strong enough to escape. Then I fled, like a Gilty Soul. It was gastly. On the doorstep I met Jane.
Result, a jamb that night at the performence, and a new lease of life for the Play. Egleston comes on, bruized and battered, and perhaps with a limp. The Labor Unions take up the matter it's a knock out. I'd charge a thousand dollars for that idea if I were selling it." "Bruized!" I exclaimed. "Realy bruized or painted on?" He glared at me impatiently. "Now see here, Bab," he said.
"I should think it would be very expencive, going so often," I said, in a cool tone. "Not so very. You see, the play is a failure, and they give us girls tickets to dress the house. Fill it up, you know. Half the girls in the store are crazy about Mr. Egleston." My world shuddered about me. What fail! That beautiful play, ending "My darling, my woman"? It could not be. Fate would not be cruel.
Coming home from the theater tonight, still dazed with the revelation of what I am capable of, once aroused, I asked Miss Everett if her couzin had said anything about Mr. Egleston being in love with the Leading Character. She observed: "No. But he may be. She is very pretty." "Possably," I remarked. "But I should like to see her in the morning, when she gets up."
H. B. Adams, The Germanic Origin of New England Towns, Saxon Tithing-Men in America, Norman Constables in America, Village Communities of Cape Ann and Salem; II., x. Edward Channing, Town and County Government in the English Colonies of North America; IV., xi.-xii. Melville Egleston, The Land System of the New England Colonies; VII., vii.-ix. C. M. Andrews, The River Towns of Connecticut.
Ah me, how the strains of the orkestra recall that magic night in the theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although ostensably to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My Woman!" 3 A. M. I wonder if I can controll my hands to write. In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious Voices, and I know that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland.
I cried, in scorn and wrechedness. "What is he to me? Or his eye either? I refer to Mr. Egleston. It is time for the curtain to go up now, and unless he has by this time returned, there can be no performence." "Look here," Carter said sudenly, "you look awfuly queer, Bab. Your face " I stamped my foot. "What does my face matter?" I demanded.
However, I had sealed it up in an envelope. Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was over. I think a paller must have come over me, and Jane said: "Bab! Do you dare?" I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water. I seemed to be thirsty all the time.
All the girls were perfectly mad about Mr. Egleston, although pretending merely to admire his Art. But I am being honest, as I agreed at the start, and now I know, as I sit here with the soft, although chilly breeses of the night blowing on my hot brow, now I know that this thing that has come to me is Love. Morover, it is the Love of my Life. He will never know it, but I am his.
If I had not decieved Jane things would be better. But she was set on my sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to her, but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I said: "Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the Play is perfectly wonderfull. And you are perfectly splendid in it.
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