BRIGHT DAYS AND DARK ONES
Although Reed Marshall kept his promise of coming to see Ellen, not once was she at home when he called, which he did several times. All through that holiday week there was something going on, for it seemed that the old friends outdid themselves in their efforts to give Ellen pleasure. There were teas, luncheons and theatre parties, musicales, concerts, and, if nothing else offered, there were trips to the picture galleries, so that the girl’s time was entirely taken up, and when the hour of her departure struck she knew no more what Reed looked like than if she had never seen him. Indeed it is not surprising that he passed out of her memory almost entirely when two surprising incidents took place almost at the same time.
It was at one of the studios on the day before New Year’s that Ellen noticed a pretty girl looking at her with evident interest. Music was going on; some one was singing. Ellen waited till the song was over before she whispered to Mrs. Austin: “Do you know who that girl is, the one in purple, sitting by Mrs. Everleigh? She has been staring at me as if I were a curiosity.”
“Never saw her before that I know of. We’ll find out directly, when the music is over and we have tea.”
That moment arrived before long. Mrs. Austin arose. “You stay here and I’ll go find out about the purple girl.”
She had no sooner gone than the purple girl herself came and took the chair Mrs. Austin had vacated. “Would you mind telling me your name?” she said. “I came in late, and in such a crowd of course one doesn’t wait for introductions. I am Mabel Wickham, Mrs. Everleigh’s niece.”
“I am Ellen North,” was the prompt reply.
“Not Ellen North from Marshville?” Miss Wickham leaned closer while an amused look crept into her eyes as they travelled from Ellen’s hat to her dress and then to the coat which hung over the back of a chair in front of the two. “Is that your coat?” came the abrupt question. “Oh, I beg your pardon for being so rude. I have no right to ask such questions. Did you say you lived in Marshville?”
Ellen hadn’t said so, but she answered: “Yes, I live there. Is that where you have seen me? Do you know the place?”
“Never was there in my life, but——” She was no longer able to keep back her laughter, though presently she bit her lip and tried to look politely serious. “You really must excuse me. I must seem a perfect idiot, but I keep thinking of something so funny that it makes me laugh.”