The Bacillus of Beauty Part 23

"Unless I see the papers, I shall have a fever, a high fever," I threatened; "I must--oh, I must see every word about last evening!"

At last the _Record_ and the _Messenger_ came upstairs already opened to the critiques of the new opera. Mrs. Baker wished to read aloud, but I almost s.n.a.t.c.hed the papers from her; my eyes couldn't go fast enough down the columns. But in neither sheet did I find more than a reference to a "senseless alarm" that marred the rendition of "Christofero."

My cheeks flamed with annoyance. It was the reporters who were senseless; they had seen men adoring the wonder of this century, and had not flashed news of it--of me--to all the world!

Aunt couldn't understand. She thought to comfort me by saying that my share in the disturbance would never be suspected; she unblushingly averred that no one had seen me; she begged me to rest, to forget my fright, not to be distressed by the newspapers.

Distressed? Not I! Events had been too startling for me to heed the stupidity that whined over missing a few bars of a silly overture when _I_ was in sight. Indeed I had been frightened; yet why should not the world demand to look upon me? I thought only of hurrying to Prof.

Darmstetter that he might share my triumph. But Aunt wouldn't hear of my leaving the house; scarcely of my coming down stairs. Fluttering into my room she would bring me some fruit, a novel; then she would trot away again with an air of preoccupation.

I was getting out of patience at all this mystery, when, during one of her brief absences, Ethel tapped at my door, and a minute later Kitty Reid dashed at me, while in the doorway appeared Cadge, scratching with one hand in a black bag.

"Oh, Helen, Helen," cried Kitty, laughing and half crying, "_have_ you seen Cadge's exclusive?"

"Cadge! You were there? Cadge!"

"Sure," said that strange creature, her keen eyes glancing about my room; "you don't deserve half I've done for you--not letting me know beforehand--."

"Or me!" Kitty broke in. "Oh, I've have given a--a tube of chrome yellow to see you!"

"--but we've made the Row look like nineteen cents in a country where they don't use money. See you've got the fossils." Cadge nodded towards the papers I had been reading. "But the _Star's_ worth the whole--now where the mischief--"

"Cadge! Show me!"

From the black bag she drew several sheets of paper, upon each of which was pasted a cutting from a newspaper, with pencilled notes in the margin; a handkerchief, a bunch of keys, six pointed pencils, a pen-knife, a purse, rather lean, a photograph of two kittens.

"There," she said, relieved at sight of these, "knew I couldn't have lost 'em. Brooklyn woman left 'em $5,000 in her will. They'll stand me in a good little old half column. Now--where--ah, here you are!"

She unfolded a _Star_ clipping and proudly spread it upon my knee.

"There, Princess! That's the real thing!"

I caught my breath at the staring headlines.

BEAUTY OF A WOMAN THREATENS A PANIC AT THE OPERA HOUSE.

PRESENCE OF MISS HELEN WINSHIP CREATES SENSATION THAT MIGHT HAVE RESULTED IN A PERILOUS STAMPEDE.

_Alarm of Fire During the Third Scene of "Christofero Colombo"_

GREAT AUDIENCE AT THE METROPOLITAN ENDANGERED BY FRENZY OVER REMARKABLY LOVELY GIRL.

"Hot stuff, ain't it?" said Cadge, beaming with satisfaction. "I never like that Opera a.s.signment--dresses and society, second fiddle to the music man--but I wouldn't have missed last night! Minute I saw you in the Van Dam box I knew there'd be the biggest circus I ever--why--why, Helen--"

The horror of it--the pitiful vulgarity! My father, the University folks-- all the world would know that I had been made notorious by a--that I--oh, the tingling joy, the rapture--that I was the loveliest of women!

"Cadge! Oh, Cadge!"

I threw myself into her arms.

"Why, Helen, what's this? Can't stand for the headlines? Built in the office and I know they're rather--"

"They're _quite_" interrupted Kitty. "Of course the Princess wouldn't expect a first page scare. But cheer up, child; there's worse to come."

The girls were soothing me and fussing over me when Aunt Frank opened the door. At her surprised look I brushed away my tears of joy. I understood everything now--her uneasiness, the long telephonic conferences, my confinement to the house.

"Aunt," I managed to say, "here is Kitty come to condole with me and congratulate me; and this is my friend, Miss Bryant of the _Star_.

You remember? She was here at the tea."

"A reporter!"

"Oh, I had to know! Don't worry. Cadge, dear, did n.o.body but you see me?"

"The fossils never have anything they can't clip," said Cadge in the tone of absorption that her work always commands. "I'm surprised myself at the _Echo_, though it did notice that a 'Miss Winslow' fainted in the Van Dam box. But haven't you had reporters here--regiments? Expected to find you ordering Gatlings for the siege."

"We're bombarded!" said Aunt. "With--er--"

"Rapid fire questions," suggested Ethel.

"--but the servants have their orders. Of course," Aunt added uneasily, "we're glad to see any friend of Nelly's."

"Oh, by the way, I'm interviewing you," Cadge announced; _Star_ wants to follow up its beat. You haven't talked?"

"Why, no; but--do I have to be interviewed?"

Just at first the idea was a shock, I must confess.

"Do you _have_ to be interviewed? Wish all interviewees were as meek.

Why, of course, Helen, you'll want to make a statement. I 'phoned the _Star_ photographer to meet me here, but he's failed to connect.

However, Kitty can sketch--"

"Oh, Miss Bryant!" wailed Aunt. "An interview! How frightful! Can't you let her off?"

"Why, I don't exactly see how--though I might--" Cadge deliberated, studying Aunt's face rather than mine, "--might wait and see the red extras. I know how she feels, Mrs. Baker--they're always that way, at first--and I'm anxious to spare her, but--I can't let the _Star_ be beaten. If I were you--"

She turned to me, hesitated a moment, then burst out impulsively:--

"If I were you, I wouldn't say a word! Not--one--blessed--word! I'd pique curiosity. There! That _is_ treason! Why, I'd give my eye teeth, 'most, for a nice signed statement. But I'll wait--that is, if you really, honest-Injun, prefer."

"You're very kind," said Aunt Frank, with a sigh of bewildered relief.

"We'd give anything, of course--_anything_!--to avoid--"

"Mind," Cadge admonished me as she rose to go. "I'm running big risks, letting you off; the office relied on me. If you do talk to anybody else, or even see anybody, you'll let me know, quick? And if you don't want to give up, look out for a little fat girl with blue eyes and a baby stare; she'll be here sure, crying for pictures; generally gets 'em, first time, too. Snuffles and dabs her eyes and says: 'If I go back without any photograph, I'll lose my j-o-o-o-b! Wa-a-a-h! Wa-a-a-h! until you do anything to get rid of her. Ought to be on the stage; tears in her voice.

I wouldn't do stunts like that, if I never--you will look out, won't you?"

Aunt is so funny, not to have guessed who wrote the _Star_ article.

But she never saw it. Her precautions had all been taken at John's officious suggestion over the telephone. Busybody! An interview is nothing so terrible. The world has a right to know about me; and I don't suppose Aunt had an idea how grievously Cadge was disappointed.