"Why," in a flash it came to me, "it's Rosalind!" and clean forgetting to be shy, or polite to my companion, I hastened across to her, to be greeted instantly in a manner so exclusively intimate that the little crowd about her presently spread itself among the other crowds, and we were left to talk alone.
"Well," I said, "you're a nice girl! Whatever are you doing here?""Yes, I'm afraid you'll have but a strange opinion of me,"she said; "but I love all experience,--it's such fun,--and when I heard that there was a sudden vacancy for a golden-haired beauty in this place, I couldn't resist applying, and to my surprise they took me--and here I am! Of course I shall only stay till Orlando appears--which," she added mournfully--"he hasn't done yet."Her hours were long and late, but she had two half-days free in the week, and for these of course I engaged myself.
Meanwhile I spent as much time as I decently could at her side;but it was impossible to monopolise her, and the rest of my time there was no difficulty in filling up, you may be sure, in so gay a place.
Two or three nights after this, a little before dinner-time, while I was standing talking to her, she suddenly went very white, and in a fluttering voice gasped, "Look yonder!" Ilooked.A rather slight dark- haired young man was entering the bar, with a very stylish pretty woman at his side.As they sat down and claimed the waiter, some distance away, Rosalind whispered, "That's my husband!""Oh!" I said; "but that's no reason for your fainting.Pull yourself together.Take a drop of brandy." But woman will never take the most obvious restorative, and Rosalind presently recovered without the brandy.She looked covertly at her husband, with tragic eyes.
"He's much younger than I imagined him," I said,--reserving for myself the satisfaction which this discovery had for me.
"Oh, yes, he's really quite a boy," said Rosalind; adding under her breath, "Dear fellow! how I love him!""And hate him too!" she superadded, as she observed his evident satisfaction with his present lot.Indeed the experiment appeared to be working most successfully with him; nor, looking at his companion, could I wonder.She was a sprightly young woman, very smart and merry and decorously voluptuous, and of that fascinating prettiness that wins the hearts of boys and storms the footlights.One of her characteristics soothed the heart of Rosalind.She had splendid red hair, almost as good as her own.
"He's been faithful to my hair, at all events," she said, trying to be nonchalant.
"And the eyes are not unlike," I added, meaning well.
"I'm sorry you think so," said Rosalind, evidently piqued.
"Well, never mind," I tried to make peace, "she hasn't your hands,"--I knew that women cared more about their hands than their faces.
"How do you know?" she retorted; "you cannot see through her gloves.""Would any gloves disguise your hands?" I persisted."They would shine through the mittens of an Esquimau.""Well, enough of that! See--I know it's wickedly mean of me--but couldn't you manage to sit somewhere near them and hear what they are saying? Of course you needn't tell me anything it would be mean to hear, but only what--""You would like to know."
But this little plot died at its birth, for that very minute the threatened couple arose, and went out arm in arm, apparently as absurdly happy as two young people can be.
As they passed out, one of Rosalind's fellow bar-maids turned to her and said,--"You know who that was?"
"Who?" said Rosalind, startled.
"That pretty woman who went out with that young Johnny just now?""No; who is she?"
"Why, that's"--and readers with heart- disease had better brace themselves up for a great shock--"that's SYLVIA JOY, the famous dancer!"
