“Stuff—and—nonsense! You cannot go to your Alps. You will see, by and by, why it is impossible; now, others must decide for you. But, Honor (I’ll drop the ‘Miss,’ if you don’t mind!), I don’t want to talk about that now; I am not the person to decide for you. I want to show you the other side, about which you seem to take no thought at all.”
“The other side?” repeated Honor vaguely.
“Mrs. Damian’s side. You have not thought of that at all, eh? Let me show it to you. Mrs. Damian is an old woman, as you see. More than half of her long life has been spent in foreign travel. Professor Damian, her husband, was a famous traveler and scientist, and she went with him everywhere, all over Europe and Asia, into Africa even. She has seen many wonderful places, many interesting people. Wherever she went, she was welcomed, admired, fêted; first as a beautiful and brilliant woman, later as a wise and witty one. Now, she is old; most of her friends are dead; her health begins to fail; she must give up the life she loves, and take up that of an old woman and—I fear—an invalid. This is bitter to her; the days before her look very dark. Honor, you can brighten those days, if you will.”
“I, mademoiselle?”
“You! You are young, and of her own blood, bearing her own name. She is interested in you, more interested than she has been in anything since she decided to go back to America—to die, as she says. You can—when you have pulled yourself together—make the world a brighter place for her. How old are you?”
“Fourteen.” Honor’s eyes were very wide, as she kept them fixed on those keen blue ones.
“H’m! I was twelve when my father died and my mother took to her bed. I brought up—under God, and with my uncle’s help—my five brothers and sisters, and took care of my mother besides. You are old enough to think about something beside your own pleasure. That’s all!” said Miss Folly, rising. “Think it over! Good-by!”
With a friendly nod, she was turning to go, but Honor caught her arm.
“Mademoiselle! one moment! I will—I will go!”
“Good!” Miss Folly paused, her hand on the door. “But—understand! It must be a cheerful going, Honor. There must be no tears nor tantrums!”