A Pasteboard Crown: A Story of the New York StageMorris, Clara
General
A Pasteboard Crown: A Story of the New York Stage
Morris, Clara
Actresses -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Theater -- Fiction
"And Sybil, I simply _can't_ be kept standing here all night in my
state of health! Of course, dear, I am interested in all your plans, but
it would have been more thoughtful had you waited till morning to talk
them over. But that's where you take after your poor father in a certain
unpremeditated selfishness--unpremeditated, I admit, for he's a
gentleman and you've had the upbringing of a lady--though you are
deprived of the surroundings of one, but through no fault of yours or
mine! John!"--turning sharply to peer into the darkness behind
her--"what are you groaning about, I'd like to know? It's my legs and
back that are bearing the fatigue of this interview. I saw you took good
care to loll comfortably through your talk with Sybil. So why you should
groan now, I don't know, unless you've hit your bunion on the frame of
the sewing-machine again, and you generally swear a little when you do
that. Sybil, I'm fairly worn out in mind as well as body, and you tore
your veil the other day, didn't you? Cheap lace always goes that way.
There was a time when my veils made people turn around to look at them.
I had one with a border of grapes and vines, I remember; I am always an
honest woman, and as the border had the effect of cutting off one's
chin, I can't pretend it was becoming--but, my dear, it cost thirty
dollars, as I'm a living woman! But you can wear my net veil to-morrow,
and you will have to take Dorothy with you, for I shall be utterly used
up and unable to chaperon you; though once they get you upon the stage,
I suppose you'll go prancing about without attendance of any sort. But
until that time, you will show some respect to social conventions.
Good-night, Sybil! Take a quinine pill before you go to bed. You have
advanced me well upon my way to the grave this day. But I can't forget
you are my child, and if you should get a chill, you couldn't go down to
Mrs. Van Camp, who will probably put an estoppel upon these theatre
plans of yours. Yes, yes! John! I'm coming! It does seem that I might be
allowed to speak a few words of advice and caution to my own daughter
without interruption every moment or two!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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