[From Helen's Diary.]
_February, 18--._ Well, I really cannot express my feelings. It seems to
me that in twenty-four hours I have been metamorphosed and am some one
else living in another world.
Now that I have undertaken this, I have no idea of failing. I will
succeed, if it costs every thing. I suddenly feel that I am made for
this.
Gladys called to-day. Everet had just made a short call and gone.--He
did not know whether he left by the front steps to the street, or was
making a descent from heaven into the other place--and yet, I made only
the least exertion to please, imaginable. It made me feel superb,
magnificent, inspired, when I thought of what I can do if I really try.
I felt a mad exultation over Gladys. She was as pale as a ghost, and
hardly seemed to know what she was talking about. I should never betray
_my_ defeat or difficulty if I should meet with it. I felt such a
superiority that I almost felt like shrieking it at her, when
remembering how she has deceived me all this time. I was secretly
delighted, though, at my astonishing self-control, for she never noticed
a thing. She said:
"How I envy your freedom from care and anxiety, and your innocence of
all the wire-pulling that some have to do."
She looked fagged out when she said this, I should not have known her.
She never spoke in this manner before.
I smiled and said, "I presumed it must be wearing--especially if one was
not clever enough to succeed."
She looked at me sharply, and with some surprise. Yesterday I would have
shrivelled all up under the look. To-day I just smiled calmly.
If nothing else urged me on--if I were not doing this for Edgar's
sake--I should be wild to attempt it just to prove my power and ability
superior to Gladys's. To think how completely she has deceived me all
this time!
Edgar almost wearied me with affection to-night. One can't be always
troubled with sentiment, when one has matters of so much importance on
hand.
Of course, I did nothing to wound his feelings but he understood by my
manner that I was preoccupied.
He tried to coach me. Coach _me_! How stupid men are sometimes! He was
determined that I should grasp Everet by the collar and hold him while
he consented to do as I wished. I gave him to understand that I must be
absolutely let alone in this matter; that in an affair like this there
was nothing for him to teach me. Such a proceeding would ruin all.
Everet would jump out of the window, and never be seen any more. It is
my innocence and unworldliness that have attracted him, and it is that
that must fascinate him. I must appear to gain nothing by strategy, even
in the end, but by pure uncalculating innocence. He must be absolutely
under my control before one other step is taken.
If argument would have accomplished his yielding there would be no need
of effort on my part. It would have been accomplished long ago. If I am
to be mistress of the situation I must work entirely with personal
allurement.
To-night, at dinner I made him drink "to my success." It was delicious.
He had no more idea of the import of it than of the way my back hair
was done. This one little incident so delighted me that I had to laugh
and talk incessantly to keep myself within bounds.
Ed dined at home, with us, and when I looked across at him as I made the
suggestion, my eyes were fairly dancing at the supreme irony of it, but
Edgar did not seem to see its deliciousness, and looked as grave as an
owl.
Afterward he said: "Women _are_ incomprehensible. Now--there was no
necessity whatever for that little scene at dinner. Absolutely none."
Of course there was none. If there had been, the point would have been
lacking.
To-morrow night I give a theatre party--Everet goes--_and comes home
with me_. Heigho!