"Isn't he the handsomest Thing!" she said. "And oh, Bab, I can see that
he adores you. He is acting for you. All the rest of the people mean
nothing to him. He sees but you."
Well, I had not told her that we had not yet met, and she said I could
do nothing less than send him a note.
"You ought to tell him that you are true, in spite of everything," she
said.
If I had not decieved Jane things would be better. But she was set on my
sending the note. So at last I wrote one on my visiting card, holding
it so she could not read it. Jane is my best friend and I am devoted to
her, but she has no scruples about reading what is not meant for her. I
said:
"Dear Mr. Egleston: I think the Play is perfectly wonderfull. And you
are perfectly splendid in it. It is perfectly terrable that it is going
to stop.
"(Signed) The girl of the rose."
I know that this seems bold. But I did not feel bold, dear Dairy. It was
such a letter as any one might read, and contained nothing compromizing.
Still, I darsay I should not have written it. But "out of the fulness of
the Heart the mouth speaketh."
I was shaking so much that I could not give it to the usher. But Jane
did. However, I had sealed it up in an envelope.
Now comes the real surprize, dear Dairy. For the usher came down and
said Mr. Egleston hoped I would go back and see him after the act was
over. I think a paller must have come over me, and Jane said:
"Bab! Do you dare?"
I said yes, I dared, but that I would like a glass of water.
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