Star-Dust: A Story of an American GirlHurst, Fannie
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Star-Dust: A Story of an American Girl
Hurst, Fannie
Entertainers -- United States -- Fiction
"Well, I'll be hanged! The youngster! Good Lord! What have they done!
Who elongated you? Where are the knee dresses and the corkscrews?"
She withdrew a highly haughty hand.
"You poor, misguided Rip Van Winkle. When did you return from the
Catskills?"
"When did it happen?" he asked Lilly, trying to keep his eyes from
crinkling.
It was the first time in this last brace of weeks that there had been
more than the merest perfunctory word between them, and she tried to
thaw her cold lips into a smile.
"You forget that you haven't seen her since last Christmas. Six inches
more of skirt and a few hairpins did it."
"Well, I'll be hanged!" he kept reiterating. "Zoe grown up!"
"Is it true you are going to try for the aviation? Ida Blair says you
are."
"Looks that way."
"You're too old."
"Well, then, I'll have to come down to earth. You and your mother have
different ideas regarding my age. I'm rather dizzy about it this minute,
myself. Either time is putting one over on me or you have caught up. By
Jove! that's it! You've caught up! You're immense!"
She was suddenly, and to Lilly's amazement, a creature of flashes and
quirks, of self and sex consciousness.
"Don't like to be--immense!"
"Gorgeous, then."
"Better."
"Don't go. Let me look at you."
"Come with us. Dare you."
"Zoe!"
"Where?"
"I'm singing this afternoon for Auchinloss. My audition at the Opera
House."
"The deuce you say!"
"I've a cab waiting," she said, challenging him with a flash of eyes to
their corners.
"Wait," he said, darting into his office.
"Zoe, how dared you?"
"Lilly--he's thrilling! I want him along; I feel keyed up now. The way I
want to feel! Edgy!"
Before her persistently cold lips would reply he rejoined them and
presently they were all three in the cab.
His contemplation of Zoe became a stare.
"So the little Zoe grew up."
"I'm eighteen. You used to be old enough to be my father. Not any more.
Now you are old enough to be my--anything."
"Zoe!"
"Good Lord!" he said. "Fact."
Suddenly her nervousness came flowing back over her.
"Lilly, look at me every second while I'm singing, darling. You too,"
leaning toward him and placing cold fingers on each of their wrists.
"Delightful and easy task."
She made him a _moue_, prettily pouty.
"You'll be sorry, when I'm famous, that you didn't take me seriously."
"How can I take you at all when you've taken me off my feet?"
"You've never heard me sing, have you?"
"No."
"Wait."
"I palpitate."
"I'm going to be all alone now, you know," she said, looking at him with
her brilliant eyes filling.
"More's the pity," he said, feeling rather than seeing the downward
brush of Lilly's lashes.
"I'll be out at Ida Blair's until--for a while."
"May I come out and play with you, now that you are caught up and I can
be your--anything?"
"You may."
Laughter.
With the stopping of the cab such a javelin of nervousness shot through
Lilly that it was as if it had pierced her heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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