A SCORNFUL BEAUTY
Ivy could not have complained of Alene's want of animation had she
followed her home after rehearsal one afternoon a few days later.
She entered the library, threw her hat on a chair and herself upon a
snug little sofa that stood invitingly in the embrasure of a window,
which, by drawing the crimson curtains, could be shut off from the rest
of the room, leaving a cosy den--her favorite place for dreaming and
reading, where her eyes, straying from her book, rested on an
ever-varying picture of sky and river, which the window framed.
To-day, not waiting to shut herself away, and paying no attention to
the smiling landscape, she opened a sheet of foolscap paper that she
had held clasped tightly in her hand, and gravely perused the lines of
Ivy's angular writing which covered it. A similar sheet had been given
to the other actors in the dialogue so that each might learn his part
at leisure.
"'I ask for beauty--' yes, you little numskull, ask for it,--that's all
people think you're good for! Laura, of course, never thought of it
that way but others will! And I don't wish for it, I'd rather be a
poet any day!
'I ask the poet's gift, the lyre,
With skillful hand to sweep each wire,
I'd pour my burning thoughts in song,
In lays deep, passionate and strong,
Till heart should thrill at every word
As mind is thrilled at song of bird!
Oh, I would die and leave some trace
That earth had been my dwelling place,
Would live in hearts forevermore
When this frail, fitful life is o'er!
Oh, for the gifted poet's power--
This is my wish, be this my dower!"
Alene jumped to her feet, and standing in the window facing the room,
recited the words with a dash and a fire that brought forth a "Bravo!"
from Uncle Fred, who on his way through the hall had heard her voice
and, stopping softly at the door, witnessed her performance.
It formed a pretty picture, the little tragedienne, standing where the
crimson draperies made an effective background for her slender,
white-robed figure, with the long strands of rumpled brown hair
straying over her shoulder, and her earnest, gray eyes deepening to
black or sparkling into blue, her whole face lit with passion.
"You do your part well, Peggy," said the young man.
Alene's blushes of pleasure faded suddenly.
"But it's not my part, it's Ivy's! Why does everyone think when you're
rich that's all you are good for or can wish for! This is my part,"
and she pointed tragically at the detested verse.
"Ah, I see," said Uncle Fred, glancing at the lines. "It's a pretty
thing. 'Tis a pity to have it spoiled, as I fear it will be, since you
dislike it. "Why not suggest a change?"
"I'm afraid Laura would feel hurt; besides it is more suitable to Ivy
as she is a poet!"
"The very reason she may wish for something else!"
"Anyway, she said the verse in a sing-song style that just spoiled it!"
declared Alene.
"Poor stage manager! It's almost as bad as being the leader of a
choir! Pity Laura's not a mind reader! But why not be perfectly
honest with her, and tell her how you feel about it; perhaps Ivy has no
preference in the matter."
Alene thought that was out of the question; besides it would be selfish
to want Ivy's part, just because she herself preferred it; poor Ivy,
who, though so clever, was never quite happy.
"Then act on the Golden Rule; but don't spoil it by murdering the
dialogue in revenge," said Uncle Fred. To which Alene assented, though
she declared it was very hard.
"Since Laura's stars refuse to shine, why doesn't she call on me? Now,
I rather fancy the part," said the young man; and taking the paper with
an air of solemnity that the twinkling of his eyes belied, he proceeded
to read the verse with an exaggerated air, emphasizing the wrong words
and using gestures which seemed so funny to Alene that she threw
herself on the rug and screamed with laughter. The noise attracted
Mrs. Major and Kizzie, who reached the door in time to witness the
bewildering wind-up, as the actor, dwelling softly on the words,
"And for a fairy foot as light
As is the young gazelle's in flight."
gave his right foot an upward movement bringing his toe in contact with
the chandelier, and then executed a backward kicking act I am sure no
gazelle, old or young, would wish to emulate.