George would do Romeo so well?"
said Lucy, with a sneer.
"No, that is beyond me. Kent says Shakespeare will never be my line,
and I believe him. I should think you'd be satisfied with 'Masks and
Faces,' for you know Mabel gets her husband safely back in the end,"
answered Christie, watching the effect of her words.
"As if I wanted the man! No, thank you, other people's leavings
won't suit me," cried Lucy, tossing her head, though her face belied
her words.
"Not even though he has 'heavenly eyes,' 'distracting legs,' and 'a
melting voice?'" asked Christie maliciously, quoting Lucy's own
rapturous speeches when the new actor came.
"Come, come, girls, don't quarrel. I won't 'ave it in me room.
Lucy's tired to death, and it's not nice of you, Kitty, to come and
crow over her this way," said Mamma Black, coming to the rescue, for
Lucy was in tears, and Christie looking dangerous.
"It's impossible to please you, so I'll say good-night," and
Christie went to her room with resentment burning hotly in her
heart.
As she crossed the chamber her eye fell on her own figure reflected
in the long glass, and with a sudden impulse she tinned up the gas,
wiped the rouge from her cheeks, pushed back her hair, and studied
her own face intently for several moments.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69