Bacillus of Beauty: A Romance of To-day by Harriet Stark
CHAPTER V.
A PLAGUE OF REPORTERS.
Saturday evening, Jan. 18.
Since Monday I have left the house but once. The Judge has given me amicroscope so that I may study at home instead of going to Barnard; andto please him I make a pretence of cutting sections from the plants inAunt's conservatory; but oh, it's so dull, so dull! Or would be but formy happy thoughts. It isn't interest in apical cell or primary meristemthat makes me fret to return to Prof. Darmstetter!
It's all on account of reporters that I am shut up like a state secretor a crown jewel. From daylight until dark, men with pencils andnotebooks, cardboard-bearing artists and people with hand cameras havewatched the house; and it's so tiresome.
The siege had already begun when Mrs. Baker came to my room the morningafter the Opera, but I knew nothing about it. I couldn't understand whyshe scolded with such vehemence upon finding me writing in this littlebook instead of lying in bed; why she exclaimed so nervously over myescape and the horrors of jumping from windows, or sliding down ropes,or of being hurried along in fire panics until I was crushed to death.
"Why, you talk as if there had _been_ a fire," I cried, kissing her.
Millions of fires have flamed and roared and sunk and died again; butnever before has there been a Me!
The dear fussy little woman said that John had been telephoninginquiries. I could see that she wished to keep me in my room, andfinally, at some laboured excuse for withholding the morning papers, Iunderstood that she and John were hiding something; she is sotransparent!
"You must be calm, Nelly, dear; you mustn't excite yourself," shechirped anxiously.
"Unless I see the papers, I shall have a fever, a high fever," Ithreatened; "I must--oh, I must see every word about last evening!"
At last the _Record_ and the _Messenger_ came upstairs already openedto the critiques of the new opera. Mrs. Baker wished to read aloud, butI almost snatched the papers from her; my eyes couldn't go fast enoughdown the columns. But in neither sheet did I find more than a referenceto a "senseless alarm" that marred the rendition of "Christofero."
My cheeks flamed with annoyance. It was the reporters who weresenseless; they had seen men adoring the wonder of this century, andhad not flashed news of it--of me--to all the world!
Aunt couldn't understand. She thought to comfort me by saying that myshare in the disturbance would never be suspected; she unblushinglyaverred that no one had seen me; she begged me to rest, to forget myfright, not to be distressed by the newspapers.
Distressed? Not I! Events had been too startling for me to heed thestupidity that whined over missing a few bars of a silly overture when_I_ was in sight. Indeed I had been frightened; yet why should not theworld demand to look upon me? I thought only of hurrying to Prof.Darmstetter that he might share my triumph. But Aunt wouldn't hear ofmy leaving the house; scarcely of my coming down stairs. Flutteringinto my room she would bring me some fruit, a novel; then she wouldtrot away again with an air of preoccupation.
I was getting out of patience at all this mystery, when, during one ofher brief absences, Ethel tapped at my door, and a minute later KittyReid dashed at me, while in the doorway appeared Cadge, scratching withone hand in a black bag.
"Oh, Helen, Helen," cried Kitty, laughing and half crying, "_have_ youseen Cadge's exclusive?"
"Cadge! You were there? Cadge!"
"Sure," said that strange creature, her keen eyes glancing about myroom; "you don't deserve half I've done for you--not letting me knowbeforehand--."
"Or me!" Kitty broke in. "Oh, I've have given a--a tube of chromeyellow to see you!"
"--but we've made the Row look like nineteen cents in a country wherethey don't use money. See you've got the fossils." Cadge nodded towardsthe papers I had been reading. "But the _Star's_ worth the whole--nowwhere the mischief--"
"Cadge! Show me!"
From the black bag she drew several sheets of paper, upon each of whichwas pasted a cutting from a newspaper, with pencilled notes in themargin; a handkerchief, a bunch of keys, six pointed pencils, apen-knife, a purse, rather lean, a photograph of two kittens.
"There," she said, relieved at sight of these, "knew I couldn't havelost 'em. Brooklyn woman left 'em $5,000 in her will. They'll stand mein a good little old half column. Now--where--ah, here you are!"
She unfolded a _Star_ clipping and proudly spread it upon my knee.
"There, Princess! That's the real thing!"
I caught my breath at the staring headlines.
BEAUTY OF A WOMAN THREATENS A PANIC AT THE OPERA HOUSE.
PRESENCE OF MISS HELEN WINSHIP CREATES SENSATION THAT MIGHT HAVERESULTED IN A PERILOUS STAMPEDE.
_Alarm of Fire During the Third Scene of "Christofero Colombo"_
GREAT AUDIENCE AT THE METROPOLITAN ENDANGERED BY FRENZY OVER REMARKABLYLOVELY GIRL.
"Hot stuff, ain't it?" said Cadge, beaming with satisfaction. "I neverlike that Opera assignment--dresses and society, second fiddle to themusic man--but I wouldn't have missed last night! Minute I saw you inthe Van Dam box I knew there'd be the biggest circus I ever--why--why,Helen--"
The horror of it--the pitiful vulgarity! My father, the Universityfolks--all the world would know that I had been made notorious bya--that I--oh, the tingling joy, the rapture--that I was the loveliestof women!
"Cadge! Oh, Cadge!"
I threw myself into her arms.
"Why, Helen, what's this? Can't stand for the headlines? Built in theoffice and I know they're rather--"
"They're _quite_" interrupted Kitty. "Of course the Princess wouldn'texpect a first page scare. But cheer up, child; there's worse to come."
The girls were soothing me and fussing over me when Aunt Frank openedthe door. At her surprised look I brushed away my tears of joy. Iunderstood everything now--her uneasiness, the long telephonicconferences, my confinement to the house.
"Aunt," I managed to say, "here is Kitty come to condole with me andcongratulate me; and this is my friend, Miss Bryant of the _Star_. Youremember? She was here at the tea."
"A reporter!"
"Oh, I had to know! Don't worry. Cadge, dear, did nobody but you seeme?"
"The fossils never have anything they can't clip," said Cadge in thetone of absorption that her work always commands. "I'm surprised myselfat the _Echo_, though it did notice that a 'Miss Winslow' fainted inthe Van Dam box. But haven't you had reporters here--regiments?Expected to find you ordering Gatlings for the siege."
"We're bombarded!" said Aunt. "With--er--"
"Rapid fire questions," suggested Ethel.
"--but the servants have their orders. Of course," Aunt added uneasily,"we're glad to see any friend of Nelly's."
"Oh, by the way, I'm interviewing you," Cadge announced; _Star_ wantsto follow up its beat. You haven't talked?"
"Why, no; but--do I have to be interviewed?"
Just at first the idea was a shock, I must confess.
"Do you _have_ to be interviewed? Wish all interviewees were as meek.Why, of course, Helen, you'll want to make a statement. I 'phoned the_Star_ photographer to meet me here, but he's failed to connect.However, Kitty can sketch--"
"Oh, Miss Bryant!" wailed Aunt. "An interview! How frightful! Can't youlet her off?"
"Why, I don't exactly see how--though I might--" Cadge deliberated,studying Aunt's face rather than mine, "--might wait and see the redextras. I know how she feels, Mrs. Baker--they're always that way, atfirst--and I'm anxious to spare her, but--I can't let the _Star_ bebeaten. If I were you--"
She turned to me, hesitated a moment, then burst out impulsively:--
"If I were you, I wouldn't say a word! Not--one--blessed--word! I'dpique curiosity. There! That _is_ treason! Why, I'd give my eye teeth,'most, for a nice signed statement. But I'll wait--that is, if youreally, honest-Injun, prefer."
"You're very kind," said Aunt Frank, with a sigh of bewildered relief."We'd give anything, of course--_anything_!--to avoid--"
"Mind," Cadge admonished me
Aunt is so funny, not to have guessed who wrote the _Star_ article. Butshe never saw it. Her precautions had all been taken at John'sofficious suggestion over the telephone. Busybody! An interview isnothing so terrible. The world has a right to know about me; and Idon't suppose Aunt had an idea how grievously Cadge was disappointed.
No sooner had Cadge left us than Mr. Bellmer, pink and stammering in mypresence, and after him the General, called to inquire for me.
It was wonderful to see the change in the strong, self-confident girl'smanner. She beamed at my appearance, and her every word was caressingand deferential. The night before had had a magical effect. I was nolonger "Diane," the ingenue whom she patronized as well as admired. Iwas a powerful woman, a great lady.
"Did our Princess enjoy waking this morning to find herself famous?"she asked, echoing Milly's word for me; and then, to Mrs. Baker'shorror, she, too, had a tale to tell about reporters; they had beenbesetting her for information about her companion of the Opera.
"But I never see people of that sort, you know," she said, with anaccent that piqued me, though I couldn't help feeling glad that Cadgehad gone.
She showered me with messages from Mrs. Marmaduke Van Dam and fromPeggy and Mrs. Henry. She had a dozen plans for my entertainment, butMrs. Baker opposed a flurried negative:--
"We'll run no more risks like last night's; Nelly must stay athome--till folks get used to her."
"Then I can never go anywhere; never!" I cried in despair, yetlaughing. It's impossible sometimes not to laugh at Aunt. But Mrs. VanDam gave me a look that promised many things.
"You won't be left in hiding after such a debut; you'll electrifysociety!" she said; and when she had gone, I wore away the daywondering what she meant, until I could send for the afternoon papers.
I laughed until I cried when they came, and cried until I laughed. Thered extras reviewed the occurrence at the Opera from Alpha to Omega,publishing "statements" from ushers who had shown us to our box; frompeople in the audience and from the cab man who drove us home. And theysupplemented their accounts with pen and ink sketches of "Miss HelenWinship at the Opera," evolved from the fallible inner consciousness of"hurry-up artists."
When Uncle came home, he found me reading an interview with him whichcontained the momentous information that he would say nothing.
"We shall not again forget," he said with a deep sigh of relief, "that
--the face that launched a thousand ships And burned the topless towers of Ilion
--was Helen's. But the Metropolitan still stands. An argument not usedon heart-hardened Pharaoh was a plague of press representatives."
I'm afraid he'd had a trying day.
The worst of my day was still to come.
After dinner, when I happened to be alone a minute in the library, Mr.Hynes came in. Oddly enough I'd been thinking about him. I haddetermined that the next time he called I would for once beself-possessed; I would act as if I had not seen how oddly he conductshimself--now gazing at me as if he would travel round the earth tofeast his eyes upon my beauty and now actually shunning Milly's cousin.I was quite resolved to begin afresh and treat him just as cordially asI would any other man:
But the moment he appeared away flew all my wits.
"I think Milly'll be here in a minute," I stammered, and then Istopped, tongue-tied and blushing.
He came towards me, saying abruptly: "May I tell you what I thoughtwhen I saw you above us--" I didn't need to ask when or where. "--Ithought: The Queen has come to her coronation."
One's own stupid self is so perverse! Of course I meant to thank himfor his silent help the night before, but I asked with a rush ofnervous confusion:--
"You--were you there?"
I could have suffered torture sooner than own that I had seen him.
"Were you there, Ned?" repeated Milly, blundering into the room. "Why,we didn't see you."
Of all vexatious interruptions! Behind her came John and most of thefamily.
"The servant of The Presence would fain know if The Presence is well,"John said, coming quickly to my side and peering down at me with adark, worn look upon his face, as if he hadn't slept, and a catch inhis voice that irritated me, in spite of his playful words. I knew wellenough that his anxiety had been on my account, but it was sounnecessary!
"The child bears up wonderfully," cried my Aunt, before I could answer;"but to-morrow'll tell the story; to-morrow she'll feel the strain."
Then they all broke out talking at once. John drew a big chair for meto the fire, and there was such an ado, adjusting lights and fending mewith screens.
"You _are_ well?" John asked, obstinately planting himself between meand the others.
"Perfectly. How absurd you are!"
It was so ridiculous that I should be coddled after the triumph of mylife, as if something awful had happened to me.
I had felt annoyed all day, so far as anything can now annoy me, byJohn's too solicitous guardianship, and it vexed me anew when he beganto pile up cautions against this and against that--to warn me againstgoing out alone upon the street, and to urge care even in myintercourse with Cadge. He is quicker than my Aunt; he divined thesource of the _Star_ article, and he almost forbade me to cleave tosuch an indiscreet friend.
"Oh, last night won't happen again," I said carelessly; "and you don'tknow Cadge; she's as good as the wheat."
I wasn't listening to him. I was twisting his ring impatiently on myfinger and watching in the play of the fire a vision of the great OperaHouse, the lights, the jewels, the perfumes, the white, wondering faces.
"Can't you see, Nelly," replied John, with irritation, "that thisBryant woman's article practically accuses you of risking lives togratify a whim of vanity?"
"Why, John Burke, how can you say such a thing?" exclaimed Aunt Frank,overhearing his words and as usual answering only the last half dozen."Risking lives! Poor Nelly!"
"I didn't say it," John patiently explained; "but other people--"
"Nobody else will talk about Nelly's vanity. Why, she hasn't aparticle. As for the papers, I won't have one in the house--"
"Except the _Evening Post_?" suggested Aunt Marcia.
"Which Cadge says isn't a newspaper," I contributed.
"--so we needn't care what they say."
I was ready to laugh at John's discomfiture, but the possible truth ofhis words struck me, and I cried out:
"People won't really believe I did it on purpose, whatever the paperssay--that I went there just to be looked at! Oh, that would behorrible! Horrible!"
"Of course not," John said with curt inconsistency to bring me comfort;but I had a reply more sincere--a fleeting glance only, but it said:"The Queen can do no wrong."
"Oh, I hope you are right; I hope no one thought that," I saidconfusedly in answer to the glance. And then I bent over the Caesarthat Boy laid upon my lap, while Uncle asked:--
"Well, my son, is there mutiny again in the camp of our Great and GoodFriend, Divitiacus the Aeduan?"
A few minutes later John said good-night with a ludicrous expression ofpained, absent-minded patience. I didn't go to the door with him; Iscarcely looked up from Boy's ablative absolutes.
Oh I treated him shabbily. And yet--why did he use every effort thatday to keep me ignorant of my own rightful affairs, only to come at mehimself with a club, gibbering of newspapers?
Why, John's absurd! He would have liked to find me--not ill, of course,but overcome