She settled me among some fat pillows of old purple and gold brocade, and asked if she should ring and get a little brandy.
“No,” I said, “I shall feel better in a few minutes. It’s so nice and cool here.”
“You look better already!” exclaimed Di. “Soon, when you’ve lain and rested awhile, you’ll be a different girl.”
“Ah, how I wish I could be a different girl!” I sighed. “A strong, well girl, and tall and beautiful, and admired by everyone,—like you—or Maxine de Renzie.”
“What makes you think of her?” asked Di, quickly.
“Ivor was just talking to me of her. You know he calls me his ‘pal,’ and tells me things he doesn’t tell everybody. He thinks a great deal about Maxine, still.”
“She’d be a difficult woman to forget, if she’s as attractive off the stage as she is on.”
“What a pity we didn’t come in time to meet here when she was playing in London with George Allendale. Everybody used to invite her to their houses, it seems. Ivor was telling me that he first met her here, and that it’s such a pleasant memory, whenever he comes to this house. I suppose that’s one reason he likes to come so much.”
“No doubt,” said Di sharply.
“He got so fascinated talking of her,” I went on. “He almost forgot that he had a dance with Mrs. Allendale. Of course Maxine had made a great hit, and all that; but she didn’t stand quite as high as she does now, since she’s become the fashion in Paris. Perhaps she had nothing except her salary, then, whereas she must have saved up a lot of money by this time. I have an idea that Ivor would have proposed to her when she was in London if he’d thought her success established.”