She remained silent.
Finding that Martha said nothing, Helen continued: “When I came to see you the other day, Martha, I had been trying to think of some way in which I could help poor papa, but I could think of nothing. Then when I sang to you and you liked it, I thought it possible that others might like it, too. Do you think,” she asked, lifting her eyes with a look of earnest expectation; “do you think they would hire me to sing at the theatre?”
Martha started in surprise. As yet no thought of the child’s purpose had entered her mind. To one so unobtrusive and retiring by natural temperament, the thought of going forth at the head of an army would have seemed scarcely more formidable that that of standing before a public audience. Yet this was what Helen, so diffident always, actually proposed to do.
“Can you really be in earnest, Helen?” she asked; gazing in amazement at the child who cherished such bold aspirations.
She did not understand the power of the motive which influenced Helen; how she made everything subordinate to the promptings of filial affection, which was stronger than any other feeling of her nature. That gave her courage to think of what she would otherwise have shrunk from with nervous timidity. For her father she felt that she could dare all. It was a strange position, that of a young girl at her age, called upon to assume the oversight and care of providing for her father’s comfort and necessities. Stranger still was it, that with all the knowledge of her father’s dependence upon herself and his utter ignorance of the world and its ways, she should yet have retained so thorough a respect and reverence for him.
“Can you be in earnest?”
It was Helen’s turn to be surprised at the question.
“Why not?” she asked. “It is my duty to help poor papa, and if I can do so in this way, why should I not?”
“That is true, Helen, but think of standing before so many hundreds, or perhaps thousands of people, with every eye fixed upon you. How could you bear that?”
“I should not think of it at all, Martha. When I am singing I can see nothing and hear nothing. I seem to be mounting up—up into the air, and floating among the clouds. I can’t tell you how much I enjoy singing.”