the price she paid-第67章

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‘‘You'll　not　fail；''　said　he。　　‘‘I　know　it。　　It's　written　in　your　face。''　　He　looked　at　her。　　She　was　not　looking　at　him；　but　with　eyes　gazing　straight　ahead　was　revealing　that　latent；　inexplicable　power　which；　when　it　appeared　at　the　surface；　so　strongly　dominated　and　subordinated　her　beauty　and　her　sex。　　He　shut　his　teeth　together　hard　and　glanced　away。

‘‘You　will　not　fail；''　he　repeated　bitterly。　　‘‘And　that's　the　worst　of　it。''

Without　another　word；　without　a　handshake；　he　went。　And　she　knew　that；　except　by　chance；　he　would　never　see　her　againor　she　him。

Moldini；　disheveled　and　hysterical　with　delight　and　suspense；　was　in　the　drawing…roomhad　been　there　half　an　hour。　　At　first　she　could　hardly　force　her　mind　to　listen；　but　as　he　talked　on　and　on；　he　captured　her　attention　and　held　it。


The　next　day　she　began　with　Moldini；　and　put　the　Lucia　Rivi　system　into　force　in　all　its　more　than　conventual　rigors。　　And　for　about　a　month　she　worked　like　a　devouring　flame。　　Never　had　there　been　such　energy；　such　enthusiasm。　　Mrs。　Belloc　was　alarmed　for　her　health；　but　the　Rivi　system　took　care　of　that；　and　presently　Mrs。　Belloc　was　moved　to　say；　‘‘Well；　I've　often　heard　that　hard　work　never　harmed　anyone；　but　I　never　believed　it。　　Now　I　know　the　truth。''

Then　Mildred　went　to　Hanging　Rock　to　spend　Saturday　to　Monday　with　her　mother。　　Presbury；　reduced　now　by　various　infirmitiesby　absolute　deafness；　by　dimness　of　sight；　by　difficulty　in　walkingto　where　eating　was　his　sole　remaining　pleasure；　or；　indeed；　distraction；　spent　all　his　time　in　concocting　dishes　for　him…　self。　　Mildred　could　not　resistand　who　can　when　seated　at　table　with　the　dish　before　one's　eyes　and　under　one's　nose。　　The　Rivi　regimen　was　suspended　for　the　visit。　　Mildred；　back　in　New　York　and　at　work　again；　found　that　she　was　apparently　none　the　worse　for　her　holiday；　was　in　fact　better。　　So　she　drifted　into　the　way　of　suspending　the　regimen　for　an　evening　now　and　thenwhen　she　dined　with　Mrs。　Brindley；　or　when　Agnes　Belloc　had　something　particularly　good。　　All　went　well　for　a　time。　　Thena　cold。　　She　neglected　it；　feeling　sure　it　could　not　stay　with　one　so　soundly　healthy　through　and　through。　　But　it　did　stay；　it　grew　worse。　　She　decided　that　she　ought　to　take　medicine　for　it。　　True；　starvation　was　the　cure　prescribed　by　the　regimen；　but　Mildred　could　not　bring　herself　to　two　or　three　days　of　discomfort。　　Also；　many　people　told　her　that　such　a　cure　was　foolish　and　even　dangerous。　The　cold　got　better；　got　worse；　got　better。　　But　her　throat　became　queer；　and　at　last　her　voice　left　her。　She　was　ashamed　to　go　to　Moldini　in　such　a　condition。　She　dropped　in　upon　Hicks；　the　throat　specialist。　　He　‘‘fixed　her　up''　beautifully　with　a　few　sprayings。　　A　weekand　her　voice　left　her　again；　and　Hicks　could　not　bring　it　back。　　As　she　left　his　office；　it　was　raining　an　icy；　dreary　drizzle。　　She　splashed　her　way　home；　in　about　the　lowest　spirits　she　had　ever　known。　　She　locked　her　door　and　seated　herself　at　the　window　and　stared　out；　while　the　storm　raged　within　her。　　After　an　hour　or　two　she　wrote　and　sent　Moldini　a　note：　‘‘I　have　been　making　a　fool　of　myself。　　I'll　not　come　again　until　I　am　all　right。　　Be　patient　with　me。　　I　don't　think　this　will　occur　again。''　　She　first　wrote　‘‘happen。''　　She　scratched　it　out　and　put　‘‘occur''　in　its　place。　　Not　that　Moldini　would　have　noted　the　slip；　simply　that　she　would　not　permit　herself　the　satisfaction　of　the　false　and　self…excusing　‘‘happen。''　　It　had　not　been　a　‘‘happen。''　　It　had　been　a　deliberate　folly；　a　lapse　to　the　Mildred　she　had　buried　the　day　she　sent　Donald　Keith　away。　　When　the　note　was　on　its　way；　she　threw　out　all　her　medicines；　and　broke　the　new　spraying　apparatus　Hicks　had　instructed　her　to　buy。

She　went　back　to　the　Rivi　regime。　　A　week　passed；　and　she　was　little　better。　　Two　weeks；　and　she　began　to　mend。　　But　it　was　six　weeks　before　the　last　traces　of　her　folly　disappeared。　　Moldini　said　not　a　word；　gave　no　sign。　　Once　more　her　life　went　on　in　uneventful；　unbroken　routinediet；　exercise；　singingsinging；　exercise；　dietno　distractions　except　an　occasional　visit　to　the　opera　with　Moldini；　and　she　was　hating　opera　now。　　All　her　enthusiasm　was　gone。　　She　simply　worked　doggedly；　drudged；　slaved。

When　the　days　began　to　grow　warm；　Mrs。　Belloc　said：　‘‘I　suppose　you'll　soon　be　off　to　the　country？　　Are　you　going　to　visit　Mrs。　Brindley？''

‘‘No；''　said　Mildred。

‘‘Then　come　with　me。''

‘‘Thank　you；　but　I　can't　do　it。''

‘‘But　you've　got　to　rest　somewhere。''

‘‘Rest？''　said　Mildred。　　‘‘Why　should　I　rest？''

Mrs。　Belloc　started　to　protest；　then　abruptly　changed。　　‘‘Come　to　think　of　it；　why　should　you？　You're　in　perfect　health；　and　it'll　be　time　enough　to　rest　when　you　‘get　there。'　''

‘‘I'm　tired　through　and　through；''　said　Mildred；　‘‘but　it　isn't　the　kind　of　tired　that　could　be　rested　except　by　throwing　up　this　frightful　nightmare　of　a　career。''

‘‘And　you　can't　do　that。''

‘‘I　won't；''　said　Mildred；　her　lips　compressed　and　her　eyes　narrowed。

She　and　Moldiniand　fat；　funny　little　Mrs。　Moldini　went　to　the　mountains。　　And　she　worked　on。　　She　would　listen　to　none　of　the　suggestions　about　the　dangers　of　keeping　too　steadily　at　it；　about　working　oneself　into　a　state　of　staleness；　about　the　imperative　demands　of　the　artistic　temperament　for　rest；　change；　variety。　　‘‘It　may　be　so；''　she　said　to　Mrs。　Brindley。　‘‘But　I've　gone　mad。　　I　can　no　more　drop　this　routine　thanthan　you　could　take　it　up　and　keep　to　it　for　a　week。''

‘‘I'll　admit　I　couldn't；''　said　Cyrilla。　　‘‘And　Mildred；　you're　making　a　mistake。''

‘‘Then　I'll　have　to　suffer　for　it。　　I　must　do　what　seems　best　to　me。''

‘‘But　I'm　sure　you're　wrong。　　I　never　knew　anyone　to　act　as　you're　acting。　　Everyone　rests　and　freshens　up。''

Mildred　lost　patience；　almost　lost　her　temper。　‘‘You're　trying　to　tempt　me　to　ruin　myself；''　she　said。　‘‘Please　stop　it。　　You　say　you　never　knew　anyone　to　do　as　I'm　doing。　　Very　well。　　But　how　many　girls　have　you　known　who　have　succeeded？''

Cyrilla　hesitatingly　confessed　that　she　had　known　none。

‘‘Yet　you've　known　scores　who've　tried。''

‘‘But　they　didn't　fail　because　they　didn't　work　enough。　Many　of　them　worked　too　much。''

Mildred　laughed。　　‘‘How　do　you　know　why　they　failed？''　said　she。　　‘‘You　haven't　thought　about　it　as　I　have。　　You　haven't　LIVED　it。　　Cyrilla；　I　served　my　apprenticeship　at　listening　to　nonsense　about　careers。　I　want　to　have　nothing　to　do　with　inspiration；　and　artistic　temperament；　and　spontaneous　genius；　and　all　the　rest　of　the　lies。　　Moldini　and　I　know　what　we　are　about。　　So　I'm　living　as　those　who　have　succeeded　lived　and　not　as　those　who　have　failed。''

Cyrilla　was　silenced；　but　not　convinced。　　The　amazing　improvement　in　Mildred's　health；　the　splendid　slim　strength　and　suppleness　of　her　body；　the　new　and　stable　glories　of　her　voiceall　these　she　knew　about；　but　they　did　not　convince　her。　　She　believed　in　work；　in　hard　work；　but　to　her　work　meant　the　music　itself。　　She　felt　that　the　Rivi　system　and　the　dirty；　obscure　little　Moldini　between　them　were　destroying　Mildred　by　destroying　all　‘‘temperament''　in　her。

It　was　the　old；　old　criticism　of　talent　upon　genius。　Genius　has　always　won　in　its　own　time　and　generation　all　the　world　except　talent。　　To　talent　contemporaneous　genius；　genius　seen　at　its　patient；　plodding　toil；　seems　coarse　and　obvious　and　lacking　altogether　in　inspiration。　　Talent　cannot　comprehend　that　creation　is　necessarily　in　travail　and　in　all　manner　of　unloveliness。

Mildred　toiled　on　like　a　slave　under　the　lash；　and　Moldini　and　the　Rivi　system　were　her　twin　relentless　drivers。　　She　learned　to　rule　herself　with　an　iron　hand。　She　discovered　the　full　measure　of　her　own　deficiencies；　and　she　determined　to　make　herself　a　competent　lyric　soprano；　perhaps　something　of　a　dramatic　soprano。　She　dismissed　from　her　mind　all　the　‘‘high''　thoughts；　all　the　dreams　wherewith　the　little　people；　even　the　little　people　who　achieve　a　certain　success；　beguile　the　tedium　of　their　journey　along　the　hard　road。　　She　was　not　working　to　‘‘interpret　the　thought　of　the　great　master''　or　to　‘‘advance　the　singing　art　yet　higher''　or

even　to　win　fame　and　applause。　　She　had　one　object　to　earn　her　living　on　the