The hearts of the closed dancers sighed.
What had come?
They knew, they fended; they would resent and then their good hearts open would rejoice and too their lively, practiced hearts would gloat and scheme goads to lay upon Madame with relish.
artist's shoulders though spare upon an agile frame were
awkward in close confinement of cell and costume
and encirclement of fully dozen female dancers
powdered, perfumed, sponged, and braced the
shoulders plucked at skirts suspended and caught in camisoles gathered
like fish hooked on a line. The
artist smiled, undismayed, undiverted his brown eyes from
Carrie who sat blushing for the attention,
for the way the candles took his dark hair falling
in rich waves to his soft collar. "I should
like," he continued unthwarted as undamped, "to
make a request of you."
"Sir?" Carrie's word humble, respectful, as was right and so she would have done
though Madame were not there pushing her sharp pale nose over the artist's shoulder.
"I cannot think you've a loose button, sir, perhaps a tear from some misadventure
I may repair? 'Tis my pleasure, sir, I do assure you, and an honor to be of aid."
"Nay, though I thank you, mademoiselle, heartfully, my request is other. I do know a room of orphans waiting, waiting to be succored, to find notice, to be heard though cries and weepings of small children never carry far. But you, I think, upon my heart, do possess a heart which beats within your breast as truly and as tenderly as could be hoped by any who hold the future of the friendless up to the light. Will you come and be their nurse, their mother, will you ease them with your labors, teach and train them, feed them, clothe them,
yours the labor, others offer what they might, only funds to further you, support you, who will be the keystone which lacking they must die, the little 1s, without you their sustenance's centerpiece they will die and fade away."
Seeing her embarrassed, the artist said more: "It will be hard work, little respite,
scrubbing floors, cleaning cupboards, bedside watches in winter's black without hope."
"There is always hope."
She set away her sewing having finished in a wink the shirt.
Standing, taking up her lidded basket, "I am ready, please lead me on."