“That’s quite enough for some time to come, Evelyn,” she cried, choking back her laughter. “We all know you are wonderful, but please remember that no human being is perfect.”
Gradually they quieted down, with only an occasional explosion, and Lucile returned to her guardian again.
“I suppose you have gone to all the theaters and restaurants and things in the city,” she asked. “Are they just as wonderful as people make them out to be?” 47
“More,” said Mrs. Wescott, emphatically, dimpling happily at her memories. Indeed, she was very young and very enthusiastic, and the girls, looking at her, thought they had never seen her so entrancingly lovely.
“It is almost impossible to describe,” she went on. “At first you have only a confused impression that the world is on fire with electric lights. To ride through the crowded theater district at night, with the great electric signs blinking at you from all sides—with the honking of the motor horns making a very Babel—with the crowds on the sidewalk, still hurrying, but for such a different reason—men and women in evening dress, all bound for one or other of the gay restaurants or theaters close by. And then the theater itself! To walk from the street to the gaily lighted lobby, its walls paneled from floor to ceiling with great mirrors that reflect lovely women and distinguished men. Then in the theater where the rich carpet deadens every footfall and you feel rather than hear the murmur of many voices speaking softly—the subtle rustle of a crowded place—the lights—the music—oh, girls, it was wonderful, wonderful! I can’t describe it!”
“Oh, but you have described it—beautifully!” cried Lucile. “I feel as if I had been there!”
“Oh, just to go there once!” breathed Jessie, rapturously. “If I could only see those things once, I think I’d be willing to die!”
The girls raised laughing protests, and Lucile cried, “For goodness’ sake, don’t speak of dying yet awhile, Jessie. I’m going to see lots before my end comes. Oh, if we could only go back with you, Miss How—I mean Mrs. Wescott,” she stammered, blushing furiously at her mistake.
The lovely guardian of the fire looked down upon Lucile, a quizzical smile curling the corners of her mouth.
“I don’t wonder you make that mistake once in a while,” she said. “It took me a long while to get used to it.”