The Price She Paid [118]
``I think I'll give it up--do something else. Grand opera's bad enough. There were a lot of things about it that I was fighting my distaste for.''
``I know,'' said Agnes. ``And you'd better fight them hard. They're unworthy of you.''
``But--musical comedy! It's--frightful!''
``It's an honest way of making a living, and that's more than can be said of--of some things. I suppose you're afraid you'll have to wear tights--or some nonsense like that.''
``No, no. It's doing it at all. Such rotten music --and what a loathsome mess!''
Mrs. Belloc's eyes flashed. ``I'm losing all patience!'' she cried. ``I know you've been brought up like a fool and always surrounded by fools. I suppose you'd rather sell yourself to some man. Do you know what's the matter with you, at bottom? Why, you're lazy and you're a coward. Too lazy to work. And afraid of what a lot of cheap women'll say--women earning their board and clothes in about the lowest way such a thing can be done. Haven't you got any self- respect?''
Mildred rose. ``Mrs. Belloc,'' she said angrily, ``I can't permit even you to say such things to me.''
``The shoe seems to fit,'' retorted Mrs. Belloc. ``I never yet saw a lady, a real, silk-and-diamonds, sit-in- the-parlor lady, who had any self-respect. If I had my way they wouldn't get a mouthful to eat till they had earned it. That'd be a sure cure for the lady disease. I'm ashamed of you, Miss Stevens! And you're ashamed of yourself.''
``Yes, I am,'' said Mildred, with a sudden change of mood.
``The best thing you can do is to rest till lunch-time. Then start out after lunch and hunt a job. I'll go with you.''
``But I've got a job,'' said Mildred. ``That's what's the matter.''
Agnes Belloc's jaw dropped and her rather heavy eyebrows shot up toward the low sweeping line of her auburn hair. She made such a ludicrous face that Mildred laughed outright. Said she:
``It's quite time. Fifty a week, for three weeks of rehearsal. No doubt _I_ can go on if I like. Nothing could be easier.''
``Crossley?''
``Yes. He was very nice--heard me sing three pieces--and it was all settled. I'm to begin to-morrow.''
The color rose in Agnes Belloc's face until she looked apoplectic. She abruptly retreated to her bedroom. After a few minutes she came back, her normal complexion restored. ``I couldn't trust myself to speak,'' said she. ``That was the worst case of ingratitude I ever met up with. You, getting a place at fifty dollars a week--and on your first trial--and you come in looking as if you'd lost your money and your reputation. What kind of a girl are you, anyway?''
``I don't know,'' said Mildred. ``I wish I did.''
``Well, I'm sorry you got it so easy. Now you'll have a false notion from the start. It's always better to have a hard time getting things. Then you appreciate them, and have learned how to hold on.''
``No trouble about holding on to this,'' said Mildred carelessly.
``Please don't talk that way, child,'' pleaded Agnes, almost tearful. ``It's frightful to me, who've had experience, to hear you invite a fall-down.''
Mildred disdainfully fluttered the typewritten copy of the musical comedy. ``This is child's play,'' said she. ``The lines are beneath contempt. As for the songs, you never heard such slop.''
``The stars in those pieces get four and five hundred, and more, a week,'' said Mrs. Belloc. ``Believe me, those managers don't pay out any such sums for child's play. You look out. You're going at this wrong.''
``I shan't care if I do fail,'' said Mildred.
``Do you mean that?'' demanded Mrs. Belloc.
``No, I don't,'' said Mildred. ``Oh, I don't know what I mean.''
``I guess you're just talking,'' said Mrs. Belloc after a reflective silence. ``I guess a girl who goes and gets a good job, first crack out of the box, must have a streak of shrewdness.''
``I hope so,'' said Mildred doubtfully.
``I guess you'll work hard, all right. After you went out this morning, I took that paper down to Miss Blond. She's crazy
``I know,'' said Agnes. ``And you'd better fight them hard. They're unworthy of you.''
``But--musical comedy! It's--frightful!''
``It's an honest way of making a living, and that's more than can be said of--of some things. I suppose you're afraid you'll have to wear tights--or some nonsense like that.''
``No, no. It's doing it at all. Such rotten music --and what a loathsome mess!''
Mrs. Belloc's eyes flashed. ``I'm losing all patience!'' she cried. ``I know you've been brought up like a fool and always surrounded by fools. I suppose you'd rather sell yourself to some man. Do you know what's the matter with you, at bottom? Why, you're lazy and you're a coward. Too lazy to work. And afraid of what a lot of cheap women'll say--women earning their board and clothes in about the lowest way such a thing can be done. Haven't you got any self- respect?''
Mildred rose. ``Mrs. Belloc,'' she said angrily, ``I can't permit even you to say such things to me.''
``The shoe seems to fit,'' retorted Mrs. Belloc. ``I never yet saw a lady, a real, silk-and-diamonds, sit-in- the-parlor lady, who had any self-respect. If I had my way they wouldn't get a mouthful to eat till they had earned it. That'd be a sure cure for the lady disease. I'm ashamed of you, Miss Stevens! And you're ashamed of yourself.''
``Yes, I am,'' said Mildred, with a sudden change of mood.
``The best thing you can do is to rest till lunch-time. Then start out after lunch and hunt a job. I'll go with you.''
``But I've got a job,'' said Mildred. ``That's what's the matter.''
Agnes Belloc's jaw dropped and her rather heavy eyebrows shot up toward the low sweeping line of her auburn hair. She made such a ludicrous face that Mildred laughed outright. Said she:
``It's quite time. Fifty a week, for three weeks of rehearsal. No doubt _I_ can go on if I like. Nothing could be easier.''
``Crossley?''
``Yes. He was very nice--heard me sing three pieces--and it was all settled. I'm to begin to-morrow.''
The color rose in Agnes Belloc's face until she looked apoplectic. She abruptly retreated to her bedroom. After a few minutes she came back, her normal complexion restored. ``I couldn't trust myself to speak,'' said she. ``That was the worst case of ingratitude I ever met up with. You, getting a place at fifty dollars a week--and on your first trial--and you come in looking as if you'd lost your money and your reputation. What kind of a girl are you, anyway?''
``I don't know,'' said Mildred. ``I wish I did.''
``Well, I'm sorry you got it so easy. Now you'll have a false notion from the start. It's always better to have a hard time getting things. Then you appreciate them, and have learned how to hold on.''
``No trouble about holding on to this,'' said Mildred carelessly.
``Please don't talk that way, child,'' pleaded Agnes, almost tearful. ``It's frightful to me, who've had experience, to hear you invite a fall-down.''
Mildred disdainfully fluttered the typewritten copy of the musical comedy. ``This is child's play,'' said she. ``The lines are beneath contempt. As for the songs, you never heard such slop.''
``The stars in those pieces get four and five hundred, and more, a week,'' said Mrs. Belloc. ``Believe me, those managers don't pay out any such sums for child's play. You look out. You're going at this wrong.''
``I shan't care if I do fail,'' said Mildred.
``Do you mean that?'' demanded Mrs. Belloc.
``No, I don't,'' said Mildred. ``Oh, I don't know what I mean.''
``I guess you're just talking,'' said Mrs. Belloc after a reflective silence. ``I guess a girl who goes and gets a good job, first crack out of the box, must have a streak of shrewdness.''
``I hope so,'' said Mildred doubtfully.
``I guess you'll work hard, all right. After you went out this morning, I took that paper down to Miss Blond. She's crazy