«Miss Cayley's Adventures»

' 'You see, you had a bicycle,' Elsie put in, smoothing the
half-papered wall; 'and in those days, of course, ladies didn't bicycle. You
must admit, Brownie, dear, it was a startling innovation. You terrified us so.
And yet, after all, there isn't much harm in you.' 'I hope not,' I said devoutly.
'I was before my time that was all; at present, even a curate's wife may
blamelessly bicycle.' 'But if you don't teach,' Elsie went on, gazing at me with
those wondering big blue eyes of hers, 'whatever will you do, Brownie?' Her
horizon was bounded by the scholastic circle. 'I haven't the faintest idea,' I
answered, continuing to paste. 'Only, as I can't trespass upon your elegant
hospitality for life, whatever I mean to do, I must begin doing this morning,
when we've finished the papering. I couldn't teach' (teaching, like mauve, is
the refuge of the incompetent); 'and I don't, if possible, want to sell bonnets.'
'As a milliner's girl?' Elsie asked, with a face of red horror. 'As a milliner's
girl; why not? 'Tis an honest calling. Earls' daughters do it now. But you needn't
look so shocked. I tell you, just at present, I am not contemplating it.' 'Then
what do you contemplate?' I paused and reflected. 'I am here in London,' I
answered, gazing rapt at the ceiling; London, whose streets are paved with gold
though it looks at first sight like flagstones; London, the greatest and richest
city in the world, where an adventurous soul ought surely to find some loophole
for an adventure. (That piece is hung crooked, dear; we shall have to take it
down again.) I devise a Plan, therefore. I submit myself to fate; or, if you
prefer it, I leave my future in the hands of Providence. I shall stroll out this
morning, as soon as I've "cleaned myself," and embrace the first stray
enterprise that offers. Our Bagdad teems with enchanted carpets. Let one but
float my way, and, hi, presto, I seize it. I go where glory or a modest
competence waits me. I snatch at the first offer, the first hint of an opening.'
Elsie stared at me, more aghast and more puzzled than ever. 'But, how?' she
asked. 'Where? When? You are so strange! What will you do to find one?' 'Put on
my hat and walk out,' I answered. 'Nothing could be simpler. This city bursts
with enterprises and surprises. Strangers from east and west hurry through it in
all directions. Omnibuses traverse it from end to end-- even, I am told, to
Islington and Putney; within, folk sit face to face who never saw one another
before in their lives, and who may never see one another again, or, on the
contrary, may pass the rest of their days together.' I had a lovely harangue all
pat in my head, in much the same strain, on the infinite possibilities of
entertaining angels unawares, in cabs, on the Underground, in the aerated bread
shops; but Elsie's widening eyes of horror pulled me up short like a hansom in
Piccadilly when the inexorable upturned hand of the policeman checks it.