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第53章

the price she paid-第53章

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st too strong for her。  And if she had yieldedwhat then? Not such a repulsive lot; as our comfortable classes look at it。  Plenty to eat and drink and to wear; servants and equipages and fine houses and fine society; the envy of her gaping kinda comfortable life for the body; a comfortable death for mind and heart; slowly and softly suffocated in luxury。  Partly through knowledge that strongly affected her character; which was on the whole aspiring and sensitive beyond the average to the true and the beautiful; partly through ignorance that veiled the future from her none too valorous and hardy heart; she did not yield to the temptation。  And thus; instead of dying; she began to live; for what is life but growth in experience; in strength and knowledge and capability?

A baby enters the world screaming with pain。  The first sensations of living are agonizing。  It is the same with the birth of souls; for a soul is not really born until that day when it is offered choice between life and death and chooses life。  In Mildred Gower's case this birth was an agony。  She awoke the following morning with a dull headache; a fainting heart; and a throat so sore that she felt a painful catch whenever she tried to swallow。  She used the spray; she massaged her throat and neck vigorously。  In vain; it was folly to think of going where she might have to risk a trial of her voice that day。  The sun was brilliant and the air sharp without being humid or too cold。  She dressed; breakfasted; went out for a walk。  The throat grew worse; then better。  She returned for luncheon; and afterward began to think of packing; not that she had chosen a new place; but because she wished to have some sort of a sense of action。  But her unhappiness drove her out againto the park where the air was fine and she could walk in comparative solitude。

‘‘What a silly fool I am!'' thought she。  ‘‘Why did I do this in the worst; the hardest possible way?  I should have held on to Stanley until I had a position。 No; I'm such a poor creature that I could never have done it in that way。  I'd simply have kept on bluffing; fooling myself; putting off and putting of。  I had to jump into the water with nobody near to help me; or I'd never have begun to learn to swim。  I haven't begun yet。  I may never learn to swim。  I may drown。 Yes; I probably shall drown。''

She wandered aimlessly onaround the upper reservoir where the strong breeze freshened her through and through and made her feel less forlorn in spite of her chicken heart。  She crossed the bridge at the lower end and came down toward the East Drive。  A taxicab rushed by; not so fast; however; that she failed to recognize Donald Keith and Cyrilla Brindley。  They were talking so earnestlyKeith was talking; for a wonder; and Mrs。 Brindley listeningthat they did not see her。  She went straight home。  But as she was afoot; the journey took about half an hour。  Cyrilla was already there; in a negligee; looking as if she had not been out of the little library for hours。  She was writing a letter。  Mildred strolled in and seated herself。 Cyrilla went on writing。  Mildred watched her impatiently。  She wished to talk; to be talked to; to be consoled and cheered; to hear about Donald Keith。  Would that letter never be finished?  At last it was; and Cyrilla took a book and settled herself to reading。  There was a vague something in her mannera change; an attitude toward Mildredthat disturbed Mildred。  Or; was that notion of a change merely the offspring of her own somber mood?  Seeing that Mrs。 Brindley would not begin; she broke the silence herself。  Said she awkwardly:

‘‘I've decided to move。  In fact; I've got to move。''

Cyrilla laid down the book and regarded her tran… quilly。  ‘‘Of course;'' said she。  ‘‘I've already begun to arrange for someone else。''

Mildred choked; and the tears welled into her eyes。 She had not been mistaken; Cyrilla had changed toward her。  Now that she had no prospects for a brilliant career; now that her money was gone; Cyrilla had begun toto be human。  No doubt; in the course of that drive; Cyrilla had discovered that Keith had no interest in her either。  Mildred beat down her emotion and was soon able to say in a voice as unconcerned as Cyrilla's:

‘‘I'll find a place to…morrow or next day; and go at once。''

‘‘I'll be sorry to lose you;'' said Mrs。 Brindley; ‘‘but I agree with you that you can't get settled any too soon。''

‘‘You don't happen to know of any cheap; good place?'' said Mildred。

‘‘If it's cheap; I don't think it's likely to be good in New York;'' replied Cyrilla。  ‘‘You'll have to put up with inconveniencesand worse。  I'd offer to help you find a place; but I think everything self…reliant one does helps one to learn。  Don't you?''

‘‘Yes; indeed;'' assented Mildred。  The thing was self…evidently true; still she began to hate Cyrilla。 This cold…hearted New York!  How she would grind down her heel when she got it on the neck of New York! Friendship; love; helpfulnesswhat did New York and New…Yorkers know of these things?  ‘‘Or Hanging Rock; either;'' reflected she。  What a cold and lonely world!

‘‘Have you been to see about a position?'' inquired Cyrilla。

Mildred was thrown into confusion。  ‘‘I can't go for aday or so;'' she stammered。  ‘‘The changeable weather has rather upset my throat。  Nothing serious; but I want to be at my best。''

‘‘Certainly;'' said Mrs。 Brindley。  Her direct gaze made Mildred uncomfortable。  She went on:  ‘‘You're sure it's the weather?''

‘‘What else could it be?'' demanded Mildred with a latent resentment whose interesting origin she did not pause to inquire into。

‘‘Well; salad; or sauces; or desserts; or cafe au lait in the morning; or candy; or tea;'' said Cyrilla。  ‘‘Or it might be cigarettes; or all those thingsand thin stockings and low shoesmightn't it?''

Never before had she known Cyrilla to say anything meddlesome or cattish。  Said Mildred with a faint sneer; ‘‘That sounds like Mr。 Keith's crankiness。''

‘‘It is;'' replied Cyrilla。  ‘‘I used to think he was a crank on the subject of singing and stomachs; and singing and ankles。  But I've been convinced; partly by him; mostly by what I've observed。''

Mildred maintained an icy silence。

‘‘I see you are resenting what I said;'' observed Cyrilla。

‘‘Not at all;'' said Mildred。  ‘‘No doubt you meant well。''

‘‘You will please remember that you asked me a question。''

So she had。  But the discovery that she was clearly in the wrong; that she had invited the disguised lecture; only aggravated her sense of resentment against Mrs。 Brindley。  She spent the rest of the afternoon in sorting and packing her belongingsand in crying。  She came upon the paper Donald Keith had left。  She read it through carefully; thoughtfully; read it to the last direction as to exercise with the machine; the last arrangement for a daily routine of life; the last suggestion as to diet。

‘‘Fortunately all that isn't necessary;'' said she to herself; when she had finished。  ‘‘If it were; I could never make a career。  I'm not stupid enough to be able to lead that kind of life。  Why; I'd not care to make a career; at that price。  Slaveryplain slavery。''

When she went in to dinner; she saw instantly that Cyrilla too had been crying。  Cyrilla did not look old; anything but that; indeed was not old and would not begin to be for many a year。  Still; after thirty…five or forty a woman cannot indulge a good cry without its leaving serious traces that will show hours afterward。 At sight of the evidences of Cyrilla's grief Mildred straightway forgot her resentment。  There must have been some other cause for Cyrilla's peculiar conduct。 No matter what; since it was not hardness of heart。

It was a sad; even a gloomy dinner。  But the two women were once more in perfect sympathy。  And afterward Mildred brought the Keith paper and asked Cyrilla's opinion。  Cyrilla read slowly and without comment。  At last she said:

‘‘He got this from his mother; Lucia Rivi。  Have you read her life?''

‘‘No。  I've heard almost nothing about her; except that she was famous。''

‘‘She was more than that;'' said Mrs。 Brindley。 ‘‘She was great; a great personality。  She was an almost sickly child and girl。  Her f

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