I shall suggest a court circular--'The
Princess Helen drove out yesterday attended by Gen. Van Dam.'--'Her Serene
Highness, Princess Helen, honoured the Misses Reid and Bryant last evening
at a soiree.'--leaded brevier every morning on the editorial page. Oh,
Nelly, can't I have your left-off looks? A homely girl starves on bread
and water, while a pretty one wallows in jam."
"Princess must be wallowing in wealth," said Cadge, inspecting my evening
dress; "suspect she didn't dress for us; it's Opera night. Stockholders
share receipts with you? Beauty show in that first tier box must sell
tickets."
"Wish they would divide; I'm as poor as a church mouse," I said, laughing.
I didn't go to the Opera, though the girls had cheered me up until I
hurried home prepared to do Meg's bidding; but she had gone--angry, I
suppose--and I didn't follow.
I gained nothing; the Opera gives me my best chance to see and be seen. I
might as well have had my hour of triumph, the men in the box, the jealous
glances of the women. I might as well have scanned with feverish
expectation the big audience that turns to me more eagerly than to the
singers, searching--oh, I'm mad to think that Ned might come there again
to look upon me.
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