The Lure of the Mask | Page 8

should make him rather pitying. Hillard went on. The park was not
lovely; the trees were barren, the grass yellow and sodden, and here and
there were grimy cakes of unmelted snow.

"She is so innocent, so youthful!"
He found himself humming the refrain over and over. She had sung it
with abandon, tenderness, lightness. For one glimpse of her face! He
took the rise and dip which followed. Perhaps a hundred yards ahead a
solitary woman cantered easily along. Hillard had not seen her before.
He spurred forward, only faintly curious. She proved to be a total
stranger. There was nothing familiar to his eye in her figure, which was
charming. She rode well. As he drew nearer he saw that she wore a
heavy grey veil. And this veil hid everything but the single flash of a
pair of eyes the color of which defied him. Then he looked at her mount.
Ha! there was only one rangy black with a white throat; from the
Sandford stables, he was positive. But the Sandfords were at this
moment in Cairo, so it signified nothing. There is always some one
ready to exercise your horses, if they happen to be showy ones. He
looked again at the rider; the flash of the eyes was not repeated; so his
interest vanished, and he urged the mare into a sharp run. Twice in the
course of the ride he passed her, but her head never turned. He knew it
did not because he turned to see.
So he went back to his tentative romance. She had passed his window
and disappeared into the fog, and there was a reasonable doubt of her
ever returning from it. The Singer in the Fog; thus he would write it
down in his book of memories and sensibly turn the page. Once
down-town he would countermand his order, and that would be the end
of it. At length he came back to the entrance and surrendered the mare.
He was about to cross the square, when he was hailed.
"Hello, Jack! I say, Hillard!"
Hillard wheeled and saw Merrihew. He, too, was in riding-breeches.
"Why, Dan, glad to see you. Were you in the park?"
"Riverside. Beastly cold, too. Come into the Plaza and join me in a cup
of good coffee."
"Had breakfast long ago, boy."

"Oh, just one cup! I'm lonesome."
"That's no inducement; but I'll join you," replied Hillard cheerfully.
The two entered the café, sat down, and Merrihew ordered Mocha.
"How are you behaving yourself these days?" asked Merrihew. He
drank more coffee and smoked more cigars than were good for him. He
was always going to start in next week to reduce the quantity.
"My habits are always exemplary," answered Hillard. "But yours?"
Merrihew's face lengthened. He pulled the yellow hair out of his eyes
and gulped his coffee.
"Kitty Killigrew leaves in two weeks for Europe."
"And who the deuce is Kitty Killigrew?" demanded Hillard.
"What?" reproachfully. "You haven't heard of Kitty Killigrew in The
Modern Maid? Where've you been? Pippin! Prettiest soubrette that's hit
the town in a dog's age."
"I say, Dan, don't you ever tire of that sort? I can't recall when there
wasn't a Kitty Killigrew. What's the attraction?" Hillard waved aside
the big black cigar. "No heavy tobacco for me in the morning. What's
the attraction?"
Merrihew touched off a match, applied it to the black cigar, took the
cigar from his teeth and inspected the glowing end critically. He never
failed to go through this absurd pantomime; he would miss a train
rather than omit it.
"The truth is, Jack, I'm a jackass half the time. I can't get away from the
glamour of the footlights. I'm no Johnny; you know that. No hanging
round stage-entrances and buying wine and diamonds. I might be
reckless enough to buy a bunch of roses, when I'm not broke. But I like
'em, the bright ones. They keep a fellow amused. Most of 'em speak
good English and come from better families than you would suppose.

Just good fellowship, you know; maybe a rabbit and a bottle of beer
after the performance, or a little quarter limit at the apartment, singing
and good stories. What you've in mind is the chorus-lady. Not for
mine!"
Hillard laughed, recalling his conversation with the policeman.
"Go on," he said; "get it all out of your system, now that you're started."
"And then it tickles a fellow's vanity to be seen with them at the
restaurants. That's the way it begins, you know. I'll be perfectly frank
with you. If it wasn't for what the other fellows say, most of the
chorus-ladies would go hungry. And the girls that you and I know think
I'm a devil of a fellow, wicked but interesting, and