“Oh, no, that you will not, my dear,” said Elfie; “but you will think you have met such a prodigy, and that will be all the same to you. You will some day run against some commonplace John Thompson or Tom Johnson whom you will take for a Crichton or a Bayard. You are booked for a grand passion, my dear. It is in your system and it must come out. It would kill you if it was to strike in. I pity you, poor child, for that thing don’t pay. I know all about it; I’ve been all along there!”
“You, Elfrida?” exclaimed Alberta, with unusual interest, for her.
“Yes, me, ‘Elfrida!’ You had better believe it!”
“Tell us all about it.”
“I am going to. Well, you see when pap first brought me to this school to finish my education, we stopped in the city a few days to fit me out and show me the sights. One night he took me to see an opera. Hush, girls! I never was inside of an opera house before in my life; and you better believe I was dazzled by the splendor and magnificence around me, and found quite enough to do to gape and stare at the gorgeous decorations of the house and the beautiful dresses of the ladies, until the curtain rose. Then, whip your horses! The opera was ‘Lucia di Lammermuir,’ and the part of Edgar Ravenswood was performed by Signor Adriano di Bercelloni.”
At the mention of that name Britomarte became attentive.
“Now, whether it was the jaunty bonnet, with the heron’s feather, or the crimson tartan plaid, or the black velvet tunic coat, or the white cross-gartered hose and buskins, or the music, or the man, or all together, I don’t know; but I fell over head and ears in love with Edgar Ravenswood. Heavens! how I adored him! Don’t frown, Britty, And, ah! how I hated Lucia, who had the divine happiness of being wooed in strains of heavenly music by Edgar Ravenswood! And, oh! how ardently I aspired to be a great prima donna, and play Lucia to that exalted being, Edgar. Alba, if you smile that way I’ll bite you.”
“How did it end?” inquired Erminie.
“I’m going to tell you, Minie. I went home with my head in a whirl; I had Bercelloni on the brain. Pap wanted me to come into the dining-room and take some supper. But faugh! After the divine life of music, buskins, love, heron’s feather, romance and Ravenswood, the mere idea of eating was revolting to the last degree! But I made pap promise to take me to the opera the next night. ‘Why, daught., you are music mad,’ he said. ‘I am very fond of music, pap,’ I answered. Law girls! he believed it was only the music! Our paps are very simple-minded people. Or else they have learned so much wisdom in their age that they have forgotten all they knew in their youth. Don’t you think so, Alba?”
“Yes, but never mind about the old gentleman. Tell us of the signior.”