Being very fond of the theater, we were rather faithful
“first-nighters.” One play opened in which an actress impersonated
several different characters during the performance, making lightning
changes in the wings so rapidly that she would walk out one side of the
stage and appear almost at once from the other side in a complete change
of costume and as an entirely different character. A new stunt in those
days and very clever, we thought. When she appeared as a young man we
were both fascinated. She took the part to perfection and was more than
attractive to us.
We went again and again to see her and finally we decided we would like
to know her. We knew it to be a most irregular thing to do and one which
we had never dreamed of doing before. But both thought it would be
rather fun, so one evening before the play we sent her some flowers and
a note telling her how clever we thought her and that we would very much
like to know her if she would permit us to call after the performance.
We told her where we would be sitting so she would be able to size us up
if she cared to do so.
Of course we were full of curiosity as to how she would receive the
proposal. In her first appearance she wore some of the flowers and with
her wonderful eyes she gave us a look of approval which quite thrilled
us. We noticed another girl in the cast who looked at us very often and
with seemingly great interest. We wondered why. Soon an usher handed us
a note from “Little Ben,” as we will call her, the one who had so
attracted us, asking us to come to her dressing room after the
performance and saying that an usher would be waiting to conduct us to
her. She probably knew we were not accustomed to finding our way “back
stage,” which was the truth. This was to be our first experience.
We were dressed in our well-made tailor suits, as we wore these costumes
always when we went out by ourselves and to business. I had always
preferred to dress in this way, and Juno adopted the same mode after we
were together. So back we went, feeling very important to be shown to
the dressing room of the star! She received us very graciously, assuming
the role of the correct hostess. She was smoking, as was her “best
girl,” to whom she introduced us. It was the one who had been eyeing us
so closely during the play. We joined them in their smokes and chatted
while Little Ben was dressing in her tailor suit very similar to ours.
We liked them both and I imagine we felt very doggish when we drove away
with them in their four-wheeler.
Taxis were unheard of then. We asked them to go with us to supper, but
L. B. insisted that we sup with her in their suite, as she was too tired
to go out. Besides, she hated restaurants. This we afterwards
appreciated better than we did then, as I will explain later.
We were very careful not to betray by word or glance that our
relationship was more than that of good friends. We were rather
conscious of the fact that this was the first time we had ever met
anyone without the conventional introduction. We both wondered after
leaving them if they possibly cared for each other as we did, but
clinging to the belief that we were the only exponents of such an
attachment, we put the thought out of our minds as ridiculous.
Little Ben certainly played the part of the perfect lady on that night
and on many occasions afterwards when we were together. At her rooms we
often met other actors and their wives, as well as unmarried ones of
both sexes. Everything was very interesting and jolly without any
undesirable occurrence.
After a few weeks, her engagement ended and their next stop was at San
Francisco across the continent. Of course we saw them off at the Grand
Central and had their stateroom filled with flowers and candy. At the
train L. B. introduced us to a very tearful young lady whom we had never
seen before. The tearful one seemed heartbroken at the thought of
parting with L. B., who took us aside and asked us to be kind to the
child and try to keep her with us for that night at least. She gave us
no clue as to why she should ask this of us, and we were still puzzled
to know just what to do when the train left. The weepy friend, whom we
will call Smith, had collected herself to the extent of telling us she
was obliged to go to Brooklyn to see a friend for a few minutes, and she
asked us if we would please go with her. That seemed easy—as easy as a
trip to Brooklyn could ever be!
Upon arriving we were presented to a most astonishing personality—a
little woman with short, black hair tinged with gray, wearing heavy
white silk pajamas, smoking, and very hospitable. She had the most
charming manners and beautiful but very piercing hazel eyes. She looked
us through, and I knew at once that she too knew! I was impelled at
first to seize my Juno and run, for I did not want to think that there
was anyone else in the world who knew of love such as ours. Of course, I
did no such foolish thing, and in a way I was held by a certain
fascination which I could not analyse.
In one way we, both Juno and I, were glad of that night, for we stayed
all night, which was nearly all given up to listening. We learned a
great deal. I will call our hostess “Phil,” short for Philosopher. We
dined, of course, and all smoked, and Phil did most of the talking. She
talked freely about herself. Early in the evening we learned from her
lips that she was a bastard and that she had had many love affairs with
women. She was well educated and spoke beautiful English with a British
accent. We afterward knew that her father was a British nobleman, but
she never divulged his name to anyone. He made her an allowance, and she
visited him at intervals during his life. Her mother was an Italian for
whom she had no love. She was a great student of philosophy, ever
seeking, as she said, the Truth. At this time she was a Theosophist and
a near friend of Madam Blavatsky.
We were fascinated by her as something unique in our lives. When we left
the next day, Smith was quite herself again, as the Philosopher had
argued her out of her mood. It seemed she had been the favored one with
Little Ben for a number of years. Phil warned us against any further
contact with Little Ben, as she was a very notorious character in all
large cities and to be seen with her would condemn us at once. We always
felt it was mighty fine of Little Ben, realizing as she must have done,
and as did Phil, that we did not really belong in that class, to have
protected us thus.
Phil did interest us more and more. We saw her frequently and we became
warm friends. Her life had been spent largely in Europe, and her loves
had all been women of great beauty and famous in the world of letters
and on the stage. We had ample proof of the marvelous stories she told
us, as there were many letters and autographed photographs which she
showed us.
At last, and too late, did I find that I was not a creature apart as I
had always felt. How much suffering would have been saved me and what a
different life I would have led if I had known earlier that we are not
all created after one pattern nor according to any set rules, but that
each is as “normal” as any other!
In spite of all we learned at the feet of the Wise One, neither Juno nor
I could reconcile ourselves to the thought that we were of that class
who seemed to have little constancy. We knew we were not promiscuous as
were Little Ben and Phil, who was much older than we and said she was
through with love forever. We could not speak of our love. It was too
sacred to us. We also knew that we had not entered that group because of
any thought that they were of a class apart, but in the irregular way
which I have described because of curiosity about an actress who acted
the male so perfectly. We were not sexually attracted by her or by any
whom we met by knowing her. We were sufficient unto ourselves, though we
both thirsted for knowledge on the subject.
None of our other friends or family were ever introduced to any of this
group. We were as children whose curiosity had been aroused, and we were
also anxious to learn as much as possible of a love which was, and to me
ever will be, of a beautiful type but which has carried a stigma in the
minds of many who have never understood it in its perfection.
What wonder that I, who had experienced what I have related, had not
much respect for the accepted form of marriage! There certainly was not
much of sanctity in the marriages that came under my notice, and I have
not changed my mind in the least from all I have since known. I do not
say that there are no true unions in marriage, but with marriage as an
institution today, I think many will agree with me, there is certainly
something wrong. But as to Juno and me, I shall always feel that as long
as our lives together lasted (Oh, yes, there came a break, but our union
lasted much longer than most marriages do nowadays, notwithstanding), it
was the purest and most ideal of any type of union known.
There was not a human impulse in my nature that Juno did not meet. She
represented the highest type of any kin. She was my child, my sister, my
sweetheart, my wife, my pal, my friend, each distinct in its character.
She completely filled my life with joy as long as I was able to hold
that love.
The one time that we were forced to make a trip with Phil, we were
convinced that in some way she was a marked woman. An epithet was hurled
at her which made the cold shivers run down our backs. While she was the
only one addressed, we felt utterly degraded, and she was so angry we
feared there might be murder then and there. We understood her aversion
to going on the street. Yet there was nothing coarse about her
appearance. Her hands were beautiful, and her features showed her to
have been well born.
What a brilliant mind was there, powerless to be used for the benefit of
mankind because of the conventions of society which made it impossible
for her to find a place in the world! A convent as a child, where all
her natural propensities were developed to the full. Then as a young
woman, life in the European capitals, where she had entree to the best
circles. Later to New York, where she was so shamefully treated.