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1"Mother, Mother, I am so happy!" whispered the girl, burying her face in the lap of the faded, tired-looking woman who,
2with back turned to the shrill intrusive light, was sitting in the one arm-chair that their dingy sitting-room
3contained. "I am so happy!" she repeated, "and you must be happy, too!" Mrs. Vane winced and put her thin,
4bismuth-whitened hands on her daughter's head. "Happy!" she echoed, "I am only happy, Sibyl, when I see you act. You
5must not think of anything but your acting. Mr. Isaacs has been very good to us, and we owe him money." The girl looked
6up and pouted. "Money, Mother?" she cried, "what does money matter? Love is more than money." "Mr. Isaacs has advanced
7us fifty pounds to pay off our debts and to get a proper outfit for James. You must not forget that, Sibyl. Fifty pounds
8is a very large sum. Mr. Isaacs has been most considerate." "He is not a gentleman, Mother, and I hate the way he talks
9to me," said the girl, rising to her feet and going over to the window. "I don't know how we could manage without him,"
10answered the elder woman querulously. Sibyl Vane tossed her head and laughed. "We don't want him any more, Mother.
11Prince Charming rules life for us now." Then she paused. A rose shook in her blood and shadowed her cheeks. Quick breath
12parted the petals of her lips. They trembled. Some southern wind of passion swept over her and stirred the dainty folds
13of her dress. "I love him," she said simply. "Foolish child! foolish child!" was the parrot-phrase flung in answer. The
14waving of crooked, false-jewelled fingers gave grotesqueness to the words. The girl laughed again. The joy of a caged
15bird was in her voice. Her eyes caught the melody and echoed it in radiance, then closed for a moment, as though to hide
16their secret. When they opened, the mist of a dream had passed across them. Thin-lipped wisdom spoke at her from the
17worn chair, hinted at prudence, quoted from that book of cowardice whose author apes the name of common sense. She did
18not listen. She was free in her prison of passion. Her prince, Prince Charming, was with her. She had called on memory
19to remake him. She had sent her soul to search for him, and it had brought him back. His kiss burned again upon her
20mouth. Her eyelids were warm with his breath. Then wisdom altered its method and spoke of espial and discovery. This
21young man might be rich. If so, marriage should be thought of. Against the shell of her ear broke the waves of worldly
22cunning. The arrows of craft shot by her. She saw the thin lips moving, and smiled. Suddenly she felt the need to speak.
23The wordy silence troubled her. "Mother, Mother," she cried, "why does he love me so much? I know why I love him. I love
24him because he is like what love himself should be. But what does he see in me? I am not worthy of him. And yet--why, I
25cannot tell--though I feel so much beneath him, I don't feel humble. I feel proud, terribly proud. Mother, did you love
26my father as I love Prince Charming?" The elder woman grew pale beneath the coarse powder that daubed her cheeks, and
27her dry lips twitched with a spasm of pain. Sybil rushed to her, flung her arms round her neck, and kissed her. "Forgive
28me, Mother. I know it pains you to talk about our father. But it only pains you because you loved him so much. Don't
29look so sad. I am as happy to-day as you were twenty years ago. Ah! let me be happy for ever!" "My child, you are far
30too young to think of falling in love. Besides, what do you know of this young man? You don't even know his name. The
31whole thing is most inconvenient, and really, when James is going away to Australia, and I have so much to think of, I
32must say that you should have shown more consideration. However, as I said before, if he is rich ..." "Ah! Mother,
33Mother, let me be happy!" Mrs. Vane glanced at her, and with one of those false theatrical gestures that so often become
34a mode of second nature to a stage-player, clasped her in her arms. At this moment, the door opened and a young lad with
35rough brown hair came into the room. He was thick-set of figure, and his hands and feet were large and somewhat clumsy
36in movement. He was not so finely bred as his sister. One would hardly have guessed the close relationship that existed
37between them. Mrs. Vane fixed her eyes on him and intensified her smile. She mentally elevated her son to the dignity of
38an audience. She felt sure that the tableau was interesting. "You might keep some of your kisses for me, Sibyl, I
39think," said the lad with a good-natured grumble. "Ah! but you don't like being kissed, Jim," she cried. "You are a
40dreadful old bear." And she ran across the room and hugged him. James Vane looked into his sister's face with
41tenderness. "I want you to come out with me for a walk, Sibyl. I don't suppose I shall ever see this horrid London
42again. I am sure I don't want to." "My son, don't say such dreadful things," murmured Mrs. Vane, taking up a tawdry
43theatrical dress, with a sigh, and beginning to patch it. She felt a little disappointed that he had not joined the
44group. It would have increased the theatrical picturesqueness of the situation. "Why not, Mother? I mean it." "You pain
45me, my son. I trust you will return from Australia in a position of affluence. I believe there is no society of any kind
46in the Colonies--nothing that I would call society--so when you have made your fortune, you must come back and assert
47yourself in London." "Society!" muttered the lad. "I don't want to know anything about that. I should like to make some
48money to take you and Sibyl off the stage. I hate it." "Oh, Jim!" said Sibyl, laughing, "how unkind of you! But are you
49really going for a walk with me? That will be nice! I was afraid you were going to say good-bye to some of your
50friends--to Tom Hardy, who gave you that hideous pipe, or Ned Langton, who makes fun of you for smoking it. It is very
51sweet of you to let me have your last afternoon. Where shall we go? Let us go to the park." "I am too shabby," he
52answered, frowning. "Only swell people go to the park." "Nonsense, Jim," she whispered, stroking the sleeve of his coat.
53He hesitated for a moment. "Very well," he said at last, "but don't be too long dressing." She danced out of the door.
54One could hear her singing as she ran upstairs. Her little feet pattered overhead. He walked up and down the room two or
55three times. Then he turned to the still figure in the chair. "Mother, are my things ready?" he asked. "Quite ready,
56James," she answered, keeping her eyes on her work. For some months past she had felt ill at ease when she was alone
57with this rough stern son of hers. Her shallow secret nature was troubled when their eyes met. She used to wonder if he
58suspected anything. The silence, for he made no other observation, became intolerable to her. She began to complain.
59Women defend themselves by attacking, just as they attack by sudden and strange surrenders. "I hope you will be
60contented, James, with your sea-faring life," she said. "You must remember that it is your own choice. You might have
61entered a solicitor's office. Solicitors are a very respectable class, and in the country often dine with the best
62families." "I hate offices, and I hate clerks," he replied. "But you are quite right. I have chosen my own life. All I
63say is, watch over Sibyl. Don't let her come to any harm. Mother, you must watch over her." "James, you really talk very
64strangely. Of course I watch over Sibyl." "I hear a gentleman comes every night to the theatre and goes behind to talk
65to her. Is that right? What about that?"
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