"
"Well, scream!" I replied. "You'll scream harder if I've
brought the meazles home on me. And if you're laid up, you can
say good-bye to the Dishonorable. You've got him tide, maybe,"
I remarked, "but not thrown as yet."
(A remark I had learned from one of the girls, Trudie
Mills, who comes from Montana.)
I was therfore compeled to dispose of my silver napkin ring
from school. Jane was bought up, she said, and I sold it to the
cook for fifty cents and half a minse pie although baked with
our own materials.
All my Fate, therfore, hung on a paltrey fifty cents.
I was torn with anxiety. Was it enough? Could I, for fifty
cents, steel away from the sordid cares of life, and lose myself
in obliviousness, gazing only it his dear Face, listening to his
dear and softly modulited Voice, and wondering if, as his eyes
swept the audiance, they might perchance light on me and
brighten with a momentary gleam in their unfathomable Depths?
Only this and nothing more, was my expectation.
How diferent was the reality!
Having ascertained that there was a matinee, I departed at
an early hour after luncheon, wearing my blue velvet with my fox
furs.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190