DIARY--CHRYSALIS
_December 3._
I'M as miserable as any mortal can be! Oh, I'm still having a good time
going around seeing the city, visiting the stores and museums,
practicing hard in music, pleasing my teacher. But just the same, I'm
not happy. The reason is this: I want pretty gowns like Virginia wears,
I want to dance and play cards and see real plays. I dare say I'm a
contemptible sinner to want all that after the way I've been brought up.
I ought to be satisfied with all the wonderful things I enjoy in this
big city but I'm not.
Last week Virginia entertained the Bridge Club and tried to persuade me
to learn to play and come to the party. Royal was provoked about it. He
thinks I should learn to play. I told him I should have no peace if I
learned to do such things.
"Peace," he scorned, "no one has peace these days. The whole world is in
a turmoil. Do you think your little Quaker-like girls of Lancaster
County have peace these days?"
"They have peace of mind and conscience."
"But that," he said, "is the peace that touches those who live in
selfish solitude. The virtue that dwells in the hearts of those who
retire into hermitages is a negative virtue."
"You speak like a seer, a philosopher," I told him.
"Like a rational human being, I hope," he said petulantly. "But the
thoughts are not original. I am merely echoing the opinion of sane
thinkers. I have no appreciation of the foolish and useless sacrifice
you are persistently making. We were not put on this planet to be dull
nuns and monks. We have red blood racing through our veins and were not
intended for sluggishness."
"Yes--but----"
He went off peeved at my refusal to do as he wished.
What can I do? Shall I capitulate? I have wrestled with my desire for
pleasure until I'm tired of the struggle. My old contentment has
deserted me. I'm restless and dissatisfied, scarcely knowing what is
right or wrong.
_Next day._
I'm happy again. Being on the fence grows mighty uncomfortable after a
while, so I jumped across. I have decided to become a butterfly!
I had luncheon to-day with Virginia. She had to run off to one of her
Bridge Clubs so I offered to mend the lace on one of her gowns while she
was gone. I was alone in the sitting-room that adjoins Virginia's
bedroom. I love that little sitting-room. Virginia and I spend many
happy hours in it when we want to get away from everybody and have a
long chat. I like its big comfortable winged chairs by the cheery open
fire.
I dreamed a while before the fire, the gown across my knees. It's a pink
gown, that scarcely defined pink of a sea shell. Virginia had often
tempted me to try it on and see how well I'd look in a dress of that
kind. The temptation came to do it. I jumped up in sudden determination.
I _would_ put it on! I'd see for once how I looked in a real gown. I ran
to Virginia's room to the low dressing table. My hands trembled as I
opened the tight coils of my hair and shook it until it seemed to nod
exultingly. I fluffed the curls loosely over my forehead and twisted the
hair into a fashionable knot. Then I took off my plain blue serge dress
and slipped the pink one over my head. The soft draperies clung to me,
the gossamer lace lay upon my breast like a silken mist. I was beautiful
in that gown and I knew it. It was my hour of appreciation of my own
charm.
Later I lifted the dress and saw my plain calfskin shoes. I smiled but
soon grew sober as I thought that the incongruity between gown and shoes
was no greater than that between the gown and the girl--the girl who was
reared to wear plain clothes and be honest and unpretentious. But
honesty--that is the rock to which I cling now. I am going to be honest
with myself and have my share of happiness while I'm young.
I went back again to the fire, still wearing the borrowed gown. Virginia
found me there several hours later. When she came in and saw me, a
gorgeous butterfly, she said, she was very happy. She would have me go
down to her mother and Royal. I shrank from it but she said I might as
well become accustomed to being stared at when I was so dazzling and
beautiful. I went down, feeling almost as much of a culprit as I did the
day Aunt Maria surprised me at playing prima donna and marched me in to
the quilting party.
Mrs. Lee was lovely. She is sure I deserve to be happy in my youth.
Royal went mad. "Ye Gods!" he cried as he ran to me and grasped my
hands. "You take my breath away! You are like this!" He seized his
violin and began to play the Spring Song. The quivering ecstasy of
spring, the mating calls of robins and orioles, the rushing joy of
bursting blossoms, the delicate perfume of violets and trailing arbutus,
the dazzling shafts of sunlight pierced by silver showers of capricious
April--all echoed in the melody of the violin.
"You are like that, that is you!" he said as he laid his instrument
aside. His words were very sweet to me. The future beckons into sunlit
paths of joy.
So I have departed from the teachings of my childhood and turned to the
so-called vanities of the world. I am going to grasp my share of
happiness while I can enjoy them.
When I went up-stairs again to take off the borrowed gown I was already
planning the new clothes I want to buy. I must have a pink crepe
georgette, a pale, pale blue--just as I'm writing this there flashes to
my mind one of those old Memory Gems I learned in school on the hill.
"But pleasures are like poppies spread,--
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed;
Or like the snow fall on the river,
A moment white, then melts forever."
I wonder, is there always a fly in the ointment!