The Price She Paid [52]
yielded to it had Mrs. Belloc asked a few tactful, penetrating questions. But Mrs. Belloc refrained, and Mildred's timidity or delicacy induced her to postpone. The next day she wrote Stanley Baird, giving her address and her name and asking him to call ``any afternoon at four or five.'' She assumed that he would come on the following day, but the letter happened to reach him within an hour of her mailing it, and he came that very afternoon.
When she went down to the drawing-room to receive him, she found him standing in the middle of the room gazing about with a quizzical expression. As soon as the greetings were over he said:
``You must get out of here, Mildred. This won't do.''
``Indeed I shan't,'' said she. ``I've looked everywhere, and this is the only comfortable place I could find--where the rates were reasonable and where the landlady didn't have her nose in everybody's business.''
``You don't understand,'' said he. ``This is a bird- cage. Highly gilded, but a bird-cage.''
She had never heard the phrase, but she understood-- and instantly she knew that he was right. She colored violently, sat down abruptly. But in a moment she recovered herself, and with fine defiance said:
``I don't care. Mrs. Belloc is a kind-hearted woman, and it's as easy to be respectable here as anywhere.''
``Sure,'' assented he. ``But you've got to consider appearances to a certain extent. You won't be able to find the right sort of a boarding-house--one you'd be comfortable in. You've got to have a flat of your own.''
``I can't afford it,'' said Mildred. ``I can't afford this, even. But I simply will not live in a shabby, mussy way.''
``That's right!'' cried Stanley. ``You can't do proper work in poor surroundings. Some women could, but not your sort. But don't worry. I'm going to see you through. I'll find a place--right away. You want to start in at once, don't you?''
``I've got to,'' said Mildred.
``Then leave it all to me.''
``But WHAT am I to do?''
``Sing, if you can. If not, then act. We'll have you on the stage within a year or so. I'm sure of it. And I'll get my money back, with interest.''
``I don't see how I can accept it,'' said Mildred very feebly.
``You've got to,'' said Stanley. ``What alternative is there? None. So let's bother no more about it. I'll consult with those who know, find out what the thing costs, and arrange everything. You're as helpless as a baby, and you know it.''
Yes, Mildred knew it.
He looked at her with an amused smile. ``Come, out with it!'' he cried. ``You've got something on your mind. Let's get everything straight--and keep it that way.''
Mildred hung her head.
``You're uneasy because I, a man, am doing this for you, a young woman? Is that it?''
``Yes,'' she confessed.
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and spoke in a brisk, businesslike way. ``In the first place, it's got to be done, hasn't it? And someone has got to do it? And there is no one offering but me? Am I right?''
She nodded.
``Then _I_'ve got to do it, and you've GOT to let me. There's logic, if ever there was logic. A Philadelphia lawyer couldn't knock a hole in it. You trust me, don't you?''
She was silent.
``You don't trust me, then,'' said he cheerfully. ``Well, perhaps you're right. But you trust yourself, don't you?''
She moved restlessly, but remained silent.
``You are afraid I might put you in a difficult position?''
``Something like that,'' she admitted, in a low, embarrassed voice.
``You fear that I expect some return which you do not intend to give?''
She was silent.
``Well, I don't,'' said he bluntly. ``So put your mind at rest. Some day I'll tell you why I am doing this, but I want you to feel that I ask nothing of you but my money back with interest, when you can afford to pay.''
``I can't feel that,'' said she. ``You're putting me in your debt--so heavily that I'd feel I ought to pay anything you asked. But I couldn't and wouldn't pay.''
``Unless you felt like it?'' suggested
When she went down to the drawing-room to receive him, she found him standing in the middle of the room gazing about with a quizzical expression. As soon as the greetings were over he said:
``You must get out of here, Mildred. This won't do.''
``Indeed I shan't,'' said she. ``I've looked everywhere, and this is the only comfortable place I could find--where the rates were reasonable and where the landlady didn't have her nose in everybody's business.''
``You don't understand,'' said he. ``This is a bird- cage. Highly gilded, but a bird-cage.''
She had never heard the phrase, but she understood-- and instantly she knew that he was right. She colored violently, sat down abruptly. But in a moment she recovered herself, and with fine defiance said:
``I don't care. Mrs. Belloc is a kind-hearted woman, and it's as easy to be respectable here as anywhere.''
``Sure,'' assented he. ``But you've got to consider appearances to a certain extent. You won't be able to find the right sort of a boarding-house--one you'd be comfortable in. You've got to have a flat of your own.''
``I can't afford it,'' said Mildred. ``I can't afford this, even. But I simply will not live in a shabby, mussy way.''
``That's right!'' cried Stanley. ``You can't do proper work in poor surroundings. Some women could, but not your sort. But don't worry. I'm going to see you through. I'll find a place--right away. You want to start in at once, don't you?''
``I've got to,'' said Mildred.
``Then leave it all to me.''
``But WHAT am I to do?''
``Sing, if you can. If not, then act. We'll have you on the stage within a year or so. I'm sure of it. And I'll get my money back, with interest.''
``I don't see how I can accept it,'' said Mildred very feebly.
``You've got to,'' said Stanley. ``What alternative is there? None. So let's bother no more about it. I'll consult with those who know, find out what the thing costs, and arrange everything. You're as helpless as a baby, and you know it.''
Yes, Mildred knew it.
He looked at her with an amused smile. ``Come, out with it!'' he cried. ``You've got something on your mind. Let's get everything straight--and keep it that way.''
Mildred hung her head.
``You're uneasy because I, a man, am doing this for you, a young woman? Is that it?''
``Yes,'' she confessed.
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and spoke in a brisk, businesslike way. ``In the first place, it's got to be done, hasn't it? And someone has got to do it? And there is no one offering but me? Am I right?''
She nodded.
``Then _I_'ve got to do it, and you've GOT to let me. There's logic, if ever there was logic. A Philadelphia lawyer couldn't knock a hole in it. You trust me, don't you?''
She was silent.
``You don't trust me, then,'' said he cheerfully. ``Well, perhaps you're right. But you trust yourself, don't you?''
She moved restlessly, but remained silent.
``You are afraid I might put you in a difficult position?''
``Something like that,'' she admitted, in a low, embarrassed voice.
``You fear that I expect some return which you do not intend to give?''
She was silent.
``Well, I don't,'' said he bluntly. ``So put your mind at rest. Some day I'll tell you why I am doing this, but I want you to feel that I ask nothing of you but my money back with interest, when you can afford to pay.''
``I can't feel that,'' said she. ``You're putting me in your debt--so heavily that I'd feel I ought to pay anything you asked. But I couldn't and wouldn't pay.''
``Unless you felt like it?'' suggested