She made him tea with
her samovar, and she talked to him about Parisian journalism
and the Parisian stage in a way that made her a further
discovery to him; and his mind, hitherto wholly devoted
to the service of the _Illustrated Age_, received an
impetus in a new direction. When he had gone Elfrida
laughed a little, silently, thinking first of this, for
it was quite plain to her. Then, contrasting what the
_Age_ wanted her to write with her ideal of journalistic
literature, she stated to Buddha that it was "worse than
_panade_." "But it means two pounds a week, Buddha," she
said; "fifty francs! Do you understand that? It means
that we shall be able to stay here, in the world--that
I shall not be obliged to take you to Sparta. You don't
know, Buddha, how you would _loathe_ Sparta! But understand,
it is at _that_ price that we are going to despise
ourselves for a while--not for the two pounds!"
And next day she was sent to report a distribution of
diplomas to graduating nurses by the Princess of Wales.
Buddha was not an adequate confidant. Elfrida found him
capable of absorbing her emotions indefinitely, but his
still smile was not always responsive enough, so she made
a little feast, and asked Golightly Ticke to tea, the
Sunday after the Saturday that made her a salaried member
of the London press.
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