The call-boy's summons closed the conversation, and Jenny ran off to her own dressing-room for the last touch of powder.
When she came out of the theater that night, it was blowing a full October gale. There was nobody by the stage door in whom she felt the slightest interest, so without loitering and with pleasant anticipation of to-morrow's fun, she went straight home.
Mrs. Raeburn was sitting by the kitchen fire when Jenny got back.
"You're early," she said.
"I know. There wasn't anything to stay out for. It's a terrible night, pelting in rain. Shame after the glorious weather we've been having. It's my birthday to-morrow, too."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Raeburn. "And I'd forgotten all about it."
"You always do," said Jenny.
"I ought to have remembered this time. It was weather just like we've been having before you were born, and it come on to blow and rain just like this the very night. Twenty years! Tut-tut!"
"I don't feel a day older than fourteen," asserted Jenny.
"Tell me, do you enjoy being alive?" asked Mrs. Raeburn.