The adventurous lady

by J. C. Snaith

The play in which at decidedly short notice she had been called upon to enact no less a rôle than that of the heroine was called “The Lady of Laxton.” It was the work of an enthusiastic amateur whose chief claim to distinction, literary or otherwise, was of the kind that attends the possession of a baronetcy. She was to be a governess masquerading as a girl of position. Not only was the part very long and difficult to learn, but in the opinion of Elfreda it was pointless, silly and vulgar.

To make matters worse she had yet to meet the author of the piece, but he was known to several of her sisters with whom he was by no means persona gratissima. However, with a fulsome letter, he had proudly sent her a copy of the piece to which he evidently attached considerable value; and at that moment it was in the traveling bag by her side. Resentfully she took it out and began to study it again. In her present frame of mind, made much worse by her mother’s letter, the task seemed even less congenial than it had done at first. “I simply can’t act such rubbish” was the thought that dominated her.

It was surely too bad to force her into such a position. She dug her teeth into an uncompromising upper lip. Charity excused everything nowadays, but the more she examined the situation she was in, the less she liked it. Beneath the armor of stern self-discipline with which she faced the world were strong feelings, and these flamed suddenly forth into violent antipathy. Surely it was too bad to be let in for a thing of this kind! And she would be among strangers, with as far as she knew, not one solitary friend to help her out.

Her eyes with little darts of anger in them strayed to the girl opposite. Miss Cass was sucking her pencil again in the process of thought, her gaze was fixed on vacancy and she was frowning fiercely. Evidently a very difficult subject she was studying. But, judging by the color in her cheeks, she was the better for her meal.

Elfreda was rather inclined to envy this girl. She could call her soul her own at any rate, even if her bread and butter depended on the overtaxing of her brain.

Accidentally their eyes met. The faint, slightly aloof smile of the one was answered by the other’s honest blush of gratitude.

“Are you studying trigonometry?” Elfreda had never studied trigonometry herself, nor did she know exactly what trigonometry was, but if there was anything in a name it must be a subject of superhuman difficulty; and taking as a guide the air of concentration and the rumpled brows of Miss Green Ulster her present difficulty could hardly be less than superhuman.

Miss Cass haltingly explained that she was trying to win a prize in the Saturday Sentinel.

“How amusing! But one has to be very clever to do that, hasn’t one?”

Miss Cass was afraid that it was so. She had been trying week by week for nearly a year, but she had only achieved an honorable mention so far. The topic served to break the ice, however, and they began to talk freely. This may have been due to the fact that both were glowing with a generous wine, for it was the habit of neither to indulge in promiscuous conversation with total strangers. But just now, in quite an odd way, their minds began to march together, in fact one almost seemed to be the other’s counterpart.