I am growing old.' But, thank heaven, I had a mind. I soon
put a stop to that. 'Not a day older will I grow!' I said. And I
never have. What's a mind for, if not to make use of?"
Desire looked a little awed at an audacity which defied time.
"Don't misunderstand me," went on her companion. "I don't mean that
I tried to look young. I was young. I am young still."
"Yes," said Desire. "I see what you mean. But--wasn't it lonely?"
The old lady patted her arm with an approving hand.
"Clever child!" she said. "Yes, of course it was lonely. But one
can't have everything. Pick out what you want most and cling to it.
Let the rest go. It's a good philosophy."
"Isn't it selfish?"
"Youth is always selfish," complacently. "I feel quite complimented
now when anyone calls me a selfish creature. You are a bride, aren't
you?"
Desire blushed beautifully. But one couldn't resent so frank an
interest.
"Yes," she said.
"That thin, dark man is your husband? The one with the chin?"
"He has a chin," doubtfully. "Oh, I see what you mean. Yes, he is my
husband."
"Odd you never noticed his chin before," commented the old lady.
"Well, look out! That man has reserves. Who is the other one?"
"A friend."
The old lady shook a well-kept finger.
"Inconvenient things, friends!" said she. "Far better without them."
"Haven't you any?"
"Not one. They went on. All old fogies now." Her air of boredom was
unfeigned.
"But you have your daughter.
Pages:
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167