The Bacillus of Beauty: A Romance of To-dayStark, Harriet
Science
The Bacillus of Beauty: A Romance of To-day
Stark, Harriet
Beauty, Personal -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Science fiction
And then I felt more confused than ever, for Mr. Hynes was watching me.
John was looking at me, too, with that great light in his face that had
been there ever since my arrival, when he first saw the opal gleaming
on my finger; and I--oh, how could I have hinted that I don't dare go
where so many people might look at me? But it's the truth. And though
the truth may be inconvenient, it's wonderfully sweet!
After dinner we passed into the big drawing room behind the hall. Joy
did some clumsy little dances in her short white frock--she is really
too chubby to caper nimbly--and Ethel and Milly played and sang neither
well nor ill.
I think they were more afraid of me than I had been of the servants at
dinner. They are not very pretty, with their light, wavy hair and pale
flower faces, though I'm afraid I set my standard too high now--now
that I know what is possible.
I went to the piano myself afterwards and played. Played! It was
terrible! Never would I have believed that I could make such a mess of
it. I didn't sing until they began trying carols. I didn't mean to do
so then, but I chimed in before I thought, when they sang:--
He set a star up in the sky
Full broad and bright and fair.
"That song was taken from the Ormulum," said the Judge; "a poem of the
thirteenth century--"
"Nelly! Was that you?" cried Aunt Frank, interrupting.
The music of the new, fresh, vibrant voice had thrilled them all--all
except the unconscious Judge--and there they sat, spellbound. But as
they shook off the witchery, there was all at once a babble of voices,
and before I quite knew what had happened, I was at the piano again,
singing "The King in Thule:"
There was a king in Thule
True even to the grave
To whom his mistress, dying,
A golden goblet gave.
Perhaps it wasn't very appropriate to Christmas, but Cadge had drilled
me upon it. In the middle of the first stanza I happened to glance up,
and noticed that Mr. Hynes was again looking at me with an absorbed,
indrawing gaze, colouring with amazed pleasure. It woke in me a flutter
of consternation and delight, for he has the sensitive face of a
musician; but my presence of mind was gone, and for one horrible
instant I thought I was going to break down, and just sat there,
gasping and blushing. My heart sank and my voice dwindled to a
quavering, unfamiliar whisper. I couldn't remember the words; but then
I seized hold of my courage and sang and sang and sang, better than I
had ever done before.
I didn't look up again until I had finished; then somehow I got away
from the piano, and shyly slipped into a chair near Miss Baker. Of
course there was a clamour that I should sing again, but I couldn't.
The flaming of my cheeks made me ashamed.
Perhaps some time I shall learn the city way of not seeming to care
very much about anything.
Aunt must have had it at her tongue's end all the evening to invite me
to come to her; and when she was bidding me good-night she could wait
no longer.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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