The Powers and Maxine

								

felt I should like to have you know."
Kind! Yes, I had been too kind. But if by putting out my foot I could
have crushed every hope of his for the future--every hope, that is, in
which my stepsister Diana Forrest had any part--I would have done it,
just as I trample on ants in the country sometimes, for the pleasure of
feeling that I--even I--have power of life and death.
I swallowed hard, to keep the sobs back. I'm never very strong or well,
but now I felt broken, ready to die. I was glad when I heard the music
stop in the ballroom.
"There!" I said. "The two dances you asked me to sit out with you are
over. I'm sure you're engaged for the next."
"Yes, Imp, I am."
"To Di?"
"No, I have Number 13 with her."
"Thirteen! Unlucky number."
"Any number is lucky that gives me a chance with her. The next one,
coming now, is with Mrs. George Allendale."
"Oh, yes, the actor manager's wife. She goes everywhere; and Lord
Mountstuart likes theatrical celebrities. This house ought to be very
serious and political, but we have every sort of creature--provided it's
an amusing, or successful, or good-looking one. By the way, used Maxine
de Renzie to come here, when she was acting in London at George
Allendale's theatre? That was before Di and I arrived on the scene, you
remember."
"I remember. Oh, yes, she came here. It was in this house I met her
first, off the stage, I believe."
"What a sweet memory! Wasn't Mrs. George awfully jealous of her husband
when he had such a fascinating beauty for his leading lady?"
"I never heard that she was."
"You needn't look cross with me. I'm not saying anything against your
gorgeous Maxine."
"Of course not. Nobody could. But you mustn't call Miss de Renzie 'my
Maxine,' please, Imp."
"I beg your pardon," I said. "You see, I've heard other people call her
that--in joke. And you dedicated your book about Lhassa, that made you
such a famous person, to her, didn't you?"
"No. What made you think that?" He was really annoyed now, and I was
pleased--if anything could please me, in my despair.
"Why, everybody thinks it. It was dedicated to 'M.R.' as if the name
were a secret, so--"
"'Everybody' is very stupid then. 'M.R.' is an old lady, my god-mother,
who helped me with money for my expedition to Lhassa, otherwise I
couldn't have gone. And she isn't of the kind that likes to see her name
in print. Now, where shall I take you, Imp? Because I must go and look
for Mrs. Allendale."
"I'll stay where I am, thank you," I said, "and watch you dance--from
far off. That's my part in life, you know: watching other people dance
from far off."
When he was gone, I leaned back among the cushions, and I wasn't sure
that one of my heart attacks would not come on. I felt horribly alone,
and deserted; and though I hate Di, and always have hated her, ever
since the tiny child and her mother (a beautiful, rich, young