mind," she added, quickly.

"I'm glad of that. I used to wish I could be one, I was so fond of
the theatre. They should have consented, it would have given me
something to do, and, however hard it is, it couldn't be worse than
this." Helen spoke vehemently and an excited flush rose to her white
cheeks; then she checked herself and dropped into a chair, saying,
hurriedly:

"Tell about it: don't let me think; it's bad for me." Glad to be set
to work, and bent on retrieving her first mistake, Christie plunged
into her theatrical experiences and talked away in her most lively
style. People usually get eloquent when telling their own stories,
and true tales are always the most interesting. Helen listened at
first with a half-absent air, but presently grew more attentive, and
when the catastrophe came sat erect, quite absorbed in the interest
of this glimpse behind the curtain.

Charmed with her success, Christie branched off right and left,
stimulated by questions, led on by suggestive incidents, and
generously supplied by memory. Before she knew it, she was telling
her whole history in the most expansive manner, for women soon get
sociable together, and Helen's interest flattered her immensely.
Once she made her laugh at some droll trifle, and as if the
unaccustomed sound had startled her, old nurse popped in her head;
but seeing nothing amiss retired, wondering what on earth that girl
could be doing to cheer up Miss Helen so.

"Tell about your lovers: you must have had some; actresses always
do. Happy women, they can love as they like!" said Helen, with the