He had
seen me play, and remembered it all of a sudden, and told me of it:
that was the way it came about," said Christie hastily, feeling that
she must get out of the scrape as soon as possible, or she would be
driven to tell every thing in justice to Mr. Fletcher.
"I should like to see you act."
"You a Quaker, and express such a worldly and dreadful wish?" cried
Christie, much amused, and very grateful that his thoughts had taken
a new direction.
"I'm not, and never have been. Mother married out of the sect, and,
though she keeps many of her old ways, always left me free to
believe what I chose. I wear drab because I like it, and say 'thee'
to her because she likes it, and it is pleasant to have a little
word all our own. I've been to theatres, but I don't care much for
them. Perhaps I should if I'd had Fletcher's luck in seeing you
play."
"You didn't lose much: I was not a good actress; though now and then
when I liked my part I did pretty well they said," answered
Christie, modestly.
"Why didn't you go back after the accident?" asked David, who had
heard that part of the story.
"I felt that it was bad for me, and so retired to private life."
"Do you ever regret it?"
"Sometimes when the restless fit is on me: but not so often now as I
used to do; for on the whole I'd rather be a woman than act a
queen.
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