Egg-and-Milk

Now that I recall that conversation I realize how gentle she was
towards my crude and callous notions concerning personal adornment.

"Yet you went to England in order to fetch my jewels."

"No, I went to England in order to be of use to a lady. But tell
me--why do you wear jewels off the stage?"

"Simply because, having them, I have a sort of feeling that they ought
to be used. It seems a waste to keep them hidden in a strong box, and
I never could tolerate waste. Really, I scarcely care more for jewels,
as jewels, than you do yourself."

"Still, for a person who doesn't care for them, you seem to have a
fair quantity of them."

"Ah! But many were given to me--and the rest I bought when I was
young, or soon afterwards. Besides, they are part of my stock in
trade."

"When you were young!" I repeated, smiling. "How long is that since?"

"Ages."

I coughed.

"It is seven years since I was young," she said, "and I was sixteen at
the time."

"You are positively venerable, then; and since you are, I must be
too."

"I am much older than you are," she said; "not in years, but in life.
You don't feel old."

"And do you?"

"Frightfully."

"What brings it on?"

"Oh! Experience--and other things. It is the soul which grows old."

"But you have been happy?"

"Never--never in my life, except when I was singing, have I been
happy. Have you been happy?"