the price she paid- 第39部分

She　had　nothing　more　to　say。　　She　had　talked　herself　out　about　Stanley；　and　her　mind　was　now　filled　with　thoughts　that　could　not　be　spoken。　　As　she　rose　to　go　to　bed；　she　looked　appealingly　at　Cyrilla。　　Then；　with　a　sudden　and　shy　rush　she　flung　her　arms　round　her　and　kissed　her。　　‘‘Thank　youso　much；''　she　said。　‘‘You've　done　me　a　world　of　good。　　Saying　it　all　out　loud　before　YOU　has　made　me　see。　　I　know　my　own　mind；　now。''

She　did　not　note　the　pathetic　tenderness　of　Cyrilla's　face　as　she　said；　‘‘Good　night；　Mildred。''　　But　she　did　note　the　use　of　her　first　nameand　her　own　right　first　namefor　the　first　time　since　they　had　known　each　other。　　She　embraced　and　kissed　her　again。　　‘‘Good　night；　Cyrilla；''　she　said　gratefully。


As　she　entered　Jennings's　studio　the　next　day　he　looked　at　her；　and　when　Jennings　looked；　he　sawas　must　anyone　who　lives　well　by　playing　upon　human　nature。　He　did　not　like　her　expression。　　She　did　not　habitually　smile；　her　light…heartedness；　her　optimism；　did　not　show　themselves　in　that　inane　way。　　But　this　seriousness　of　hers　was　of　a　new　kind；　of　the　kind　that　bespeaks　sobriety　and　saneness　of　soul。　　And　that　kind　of　seriousness　the　deep；　inward　gravity　of　a　person　whose　days　of　trifling　with　themselves　and　with　the　facts　of　life；　and　of　being　trifled　with；　are　overwould　have　impressed　Jennings　equally　had　she　come　in　laughing；　had　her　every　word　been　a　jest。

‘‘No；　I　didn't　come　for　a　lessonat　least　not　the　usual　kind；''　said　she。

He　was　not　one　to　yield　without　a　struggle。　　Also　he　wished　to　feel　his　way　to　the　meaning　of　this　new　mood。　　He　put　her　music　on　the　rack。　　‘‘We'll　begin　where　we''

‘‘This　half…hour　of　your　time　is　mine；　is　it　not？''　said　she　quietly。　　‘‘Let's　not　waste　any　of　it。　　Yesterday　you　told　me　that　I　could　not　hope　to　make　a　career　because　my　voice　is　unreliable。　　Why　is　it　unreliable？''

‘‘Because　you　have　a　delicate　throat；''　replied　he；　yielding　at　once　where　he　instinctively　knew　he　could　not　win。

‘‘Then　why　can　I　sing　so　well　sometimes？''

‘‘Because　your　throat　is　in　good　condition　some　days　in　perfect　condition。''

‘‘It's　the　colds　thenand　the　slight　attacks　of　colds？''

‘‘Certainly。''

‘‘If　I　did　not　catch　coldsif　I　kept　perfectly　well　could　I　rely　on　my　voice？''

‘‘But　that's　impossible；''　said　he。

‘‘Why？''

‘‘You're　not　strong　enough。''

‘‘Then　I　haven't　the　physical　strength　for　a　career？''

‘‘Thatand　also　you　are　lacking　in　muscular　development。　　But　after　several　years　of　lessons''

‘‘If　I　developed　my　musclesif　I　became　strong''

‘‘Most　of　the　great　singers　come　from　the　lower　classesfrom　people　who　do　manual　labor。　　They　did　manual　labor　in　their　youth。　　You　girls　of　the　better　class　have　to　overcome　that　handicap。''

‘‘But　so　many　of　the　great　singers　are　fat。''

‘‘Yes；　and　under　that　fat　you'll　find　great　ropes　of　musclelike　a　blacksmith。''

‘‘What　Keith　meant；''　she　said。　　‘‘I　wonder　Why　do　I　catch　cold　so　easily？　　Why　do　I　almost　always　have　a　slight　catch　in　the　throat？　　Have　you　noticed　that　I　nearly　always　have　to　clear　my　throat　just　a　little？''

Her　expression　held　him。　　He　hesitated；　tried　to　evade；　gave　it　up。　　‘‘Until　that　passes；　you　can　never　hope　to　be　a　thoroughly　reliable　singer；''　said　he。

‘‘That　is；　I　can't　hope　to　make　a　career？''

His　silence　was　assent。

‘‘But　I　have　the　voice？''

‘‘You　have　the　voice。''

‘‘An　unusual　voice？''

‘‘Yes；　but　not　so　unusual　as　might　be　thought。　　As　a　matter　of　fact；　there　are　thousands　of　fine　voices。　The　trouble　is　in　reliability。　　Only　a　few　are　reliable。''

She　nodded　slowly　and　thoughtfully。　　‘‘I　begin　to　understand　what　Mr。　Keith　meant；''　she　said。　　‘‘I　begin　to　see　what　I　have　to　do；　and　howhow　impossible　it　is。''

‘‘By　no　means；''　declared　Jennings。　　‘‘If　I　did　not　think　otherwise；　I'd　not　be　giving　my　time　to　you。''

She　looked　at　him　gravely。　　His　eyes　shifted；　then　returned　defiantly；　aggressively。　　She　said：

‘‘You　can't　help　me　to　what　I　want。　　So　this　is　my　last　lessonfor　the　present。　　I　may　come　back　some　daywhen　I　am　ready　for　what　you　have　to　give。''

‘‘You　are　going　to　give　up？''

‘‘Oh；　nooh；　dear　me；　no；''　replied　she。　　‘‘I　realize　that　you're　laughing　in　your　sleeve　as　I　say　so；　because　you　think　I'll　never　get　anywhere。　　But　youand　Mr。　Keithmay　be　mistaken。''　　She　drew　from　her　muff　a　piece　of　musicthe　‘‘Batti　Batti；''　from　‘‘Don　Giovanni。''　　‘‘If　you　please；''　said　she；　‘‘we'll　spend　the　rest　of　my　time　in　going　over　this。　　I　want　to　be　able　to　sing　it　as　well　as　possible。''

He　looked　searchingly　at　her。　　‘‘If　you　wish；''　said　he。　　‘‘But　I　doubt　if　you'll　be　able　to　sing　at　all。''

‘‘On　the　contrary；　my　cold's　entirely　gone；''　replied　she。　　‘‘I　had　an　exciting　evening；　I　doctored　myself　before　I　went　to　bed；　and　three　or　four　times　in　the　night。　I　found；　this　morning；　that　I　could　sing。''

And　it　was　so。　　Never　had　she　sung　better。　　‘‘Like　a　true　artist！''　he　declared　with　an　enthusiasm　that　had　a　foundation　of　sincerity。　　‘‘You　know；　Miss　Stevens；　you　came　very　near　to　having　that　rarest　of　all　gifts　a　naturally　placed　voice。　　If　you　hadn't　had　singing　teachers　as　a　girl　to　make　you　self…conscious　and　to　teach　you　wrong；　you'd　have　been　a　wonder。''

‘‘I　may　get　it　back；''　said　Mildred。

‘‘That　never　happens；''　replied　he。　　‘‘But　I　can　almost　do　it。''

He　coached　her　for　half　an　hour　straight　ahead；　sending　the　next　pupil　into　the　adjoining　rooman　unprecedented　transgression　of　routine。　　He　showed　her　for　the　first　time　what　a　teacher　he　could　be；　when　he　wished。　　There　was　an　astonishing　difference　between　her　first　singing　of　the　song　and　her　sixth　and　lastfor　they　went　through　it　carefully　five　times。　　She　thanked　him　and　then　put　out　her　hand；　saying：

‘‘This　is　a　long　good…by。''

‘‘To…morrow；''　replied　he；　ignoring　her　hand。

‘‘No。　　My　money　is　all　gone。　　Besides；　I　have　no　time　for　amateur　trifling。''

‘‘Your　lessons　are　paid　for　until　the　end　of　the　month。　　This　is　only　the　nineteenth。''

‘‘Then　you　are　so　much　in。''　　Again　she　put　out　her　hand。

He　took　it。　　‘‘You　owe　me　an　explanation。''

She　smiled　mockingly。　　‘‘As　a　friend　of　mine　says；　don't　ask　questions　to　which　you　already　know　the　answer。''

And　she　departed；　the　smile　still　on　her　charming　face；　but　the　new　seriousness　beneath　it。　　As　she　had　anticipated；　she　found　Stanley　Baird　waiting　for　her　in　the　drawing…room　of　the　apartment。　　Being　by　habit　much　interested　in　his　own　emotions　and　not　at　all　in　the　emotions　of　others；　he　saw　only　the　healthful　radiance　the　sharp　October　air　had　put　into　her　cheeks　and　eyes。　　Certainly；　to　look　at　Mildred　Gower　was　to　get　no　impression　of　lack　of　health　and　strength。　　Her　glance　wavered　a　little　at　sight　of　him；　then　the　expression　of　firmness　came　back。

‘‘You　look　like　that　picture　you　gave　me　a　long　time　ago；''　said　he。　　‘‘Do　you　remember　it？''

She　did　not。

‘‘It　has　adifferent　expression；''　he　went　on。　　‘‘I　don't　think　I'd　have　noticed　it　but　for　Keith。　　I　happened　to　show　it　to　him　one　day；　and　he　stared　at　it　in　that　way　he　hasyou　know？''

‘‘Yes；　I　know；''　said　Mildred。　　She　was　seeing　those　uncanny；　brilliant；　penetrating　eyes；　in　such　startling　contrast　to　the　calm；　lifeless　coloring　and　classic　chiseling　of　features。

‘‘And　after　a　while　he　said；　‘So；　THAT'S　Miss　Stevens！'　　And　I　asked　him　what　he　meant；　and　he　took　one　of　your　later　photos　and　put　the　two　side　by　side。　To　my　notion　the　later　was　a　lot　the　more　attractive；　for　the　face　was　rounder　and　softer　and　didn't　have　a　certain　kind　ofwell；　hardness；　as　if　you　had　a　will　and　could　ride　rough　shod。　　Not　that　you　look　so　frightfully　unattractive。''

‘‘I　remember　the　picture；''　interrupted　Mildred。　　‘‘It　was　taken　when　I　was　twentyjust　after　an　illness。''

‘‘The　face　WAS　thin；''　said　Stanley。　　‘‘Keith　called　it　a　‘give　away。'　''

‘‘I'd　like　to　see　it；''　said　Mildred。

‘‘I'll　try　to　find　it。　　But　I'm　afraid　I　can't。　　I　haven't　seen　it　since　I　showed　it　to　Keith；　and　when　I　hunted　for　it　the　other　day；　it　didn't　turn　up。　　I've　changed　valets　several　times　in　the　last　six　months''

But　Mildred　had　ceased　listening。　　Keith　had　seen　the　picture；　had　called　it　a　‘‘give　away；''　had　been　interested　in　itand　the　picture　had　disappeared。　　She　laughed　at　her　own　folly；　yet　she　was　glad　Stanley　had　given　her　this　chance　to　make　up　a　silly　day…dream。　She　waited　until　he　had　exhausted　himself　on　the　subject　of　valets；　their　drunkenness；　their　thievish　habits；　their　incompetence；　then　she　said：

‘‘I　took　my　last　lesson　from　Jennings　to…day。''

‘‘What's　the　matter？　　Do　you　want　to　change？　You　didn't　say　anything　about　it？　　Isn't　he　good？''

‘‘Good　enough。　　But　I've　discovered　that　my　voice　isn't　reliable；　and　unless　one　has　a　reliable　voice　there's　no　chance　for　a　grand…opera　careeror　for　comic　opera；　either。''

Stanley　was　straightway　all　agitation　and　protest。　‘‘Who　put　that　notion　in　your　head？　　There's　nothing　in　it；　Mildred。　　Jennings　is　crazy　about　your　voice；　and　he　knows。''

‘‘Jennings　is　after　the　money；''　replied　Mildred。　‘‘What　I'm　saying　is　the　truth。　　Stanley；　our　beautiful　dream　of　a　career　has　winked　out。''

His　expression　was　most　revealing。

‘‘And；''　she　went　on；　‘‘I'm　not　going　to　take　any　more　of　your　moneyand；　of　course；　I'll　pay　back　what　I've　borrowed　when　I　can''she　smiled‘‘which　may　not　be　very　soon。''

‘‘What's　all　this　about；　anyhow？''　demanded　he。　　‘‘I　don't　see　any　sign　of　it　in　your　face。　　You　wouldn't　take　it　so　coolly　if　it　were　so。''

‘‘I　don't　understand　why　I'm　not　wringing　my　hands　and　weeping；''　replied　she。　　‘‘Every　few　minutes　I　tell　myself　that　I　ought　to　be。　　But　I　stay　quite　calm。　　I　suppose　I'msort　of　stupefied。''

‘‘Do　you　really　mean　that　you've　given　up？''　cried　he。

‘‘It's　no　use　to　waste　the　money；　Stanley。　　I've　got　the　voice；　and　that's　what　deceived　us　all。　　But　there's　nothing　BEHIND　the　voice。　　With　a　great　singer　the　greatness　is　in　what's　behind　the　voice；　not　in　the　voice　itself。''

‘‘I　don't　believe　a　word　of　it；''　cried　he　violently。　‘‘You've　been　discouraged　by　a　little　cold。　　Everybody　has　colds。　　Why；　in　this　climate　the　colds　are　always　getting　the　Metropolitan　singers　down。''

‘‘But　they've　got　strong　throats；　and　my　throat's　delicate。''

‘‘You　must　g