Novel 1981 - Comstock Lode (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page B

all.”
    “I shall need no more.”
    “You do not seem to understand. No doubt the money seems a great sum to you, but living as you have it will last no time at all, and you will be penniless.
    “It could be invested, and you could realize a small sum from it each year, but I think—”
    “Uncle André, you worry too much. Please don’t. I shall be all right. I have made my decision.”
    “And that is?”
    “I shall be an actress.”
    André dropped his hands to the arms of his chair and sat forward. “An actress! But that is impossible. You have no training. And it isn’t quite the life I should choose—”
    She laughed. “But you are not choosing, Uncle André. I am!”
    “Need I remind you that you are under age?”
    The smile left her face. “You know that, I know that, but need anyone else? You are not my guardian. You are not a blood relative. You were and have been a very good friend. I had hoped you would help me.”
    “I? I know few people in the theater, mademoiselle.”
    “But you do know some? Rachel, for instance, Rachel Felix?”
    He flushed, and she was amused. “Ah, then you
did
know her!”
    “Slightly, mademoiselle, and that was years ago. Many years ago.”
    “But if you went to see her? She would know your name?”
    He hesitated. “Well, we were both very young.…It was a long time ago.”
    He gave a gesture of dismissal. “It does not matter. You are not an actress. Do you think a professional company, performing every night, could afford some inexperienced girl?”
    She sat down opposite him. “Uncle André, it is confession time. When my aunt married the count it was her second marriage. He knew this, but no one else did. Not on this side of the Atlantic.”
    “So?”
    “My aunt was for many years an actress. She toured on the American stage, and I with her.”
    “You?”
    “My parents were killed when I was eight. I went to live with another aunt, then when I was ten I went to live with Claire and began to appear here and there, always in plays with her. I played children’s parts, both boys and girls, and then maids, and finally some quite good roles.
    “When Claire married the count he insisted I drop all that and return to school. It was very easy for me, that school was, so I studied music and the dance as well. Rachel is soon to do a play I know very well, and there is a part, a very small part, that I could do easily.”
    “She does not cast her plays, I am sure.”
    “She does not—officially. Unofficially I am quite sure she has very much to say.”
    “Perhaps, perhaps.” He looked around at her as she moved across the room. “Mademoiselle? Did you know Rachel is considering an American tour?”
    “I did.”
    “You would go?”
    “Of course. After all, I was born there. And you say I have all that mining stock. Perhaps I should see to my investments.”
    “They are nothing, nothing! Most of the mines are unknown, unheard of! Your aunt bought foolishly, just as she loaned money. Why, among those papers there must be fifty notes! Long overdue and uncollectable now.”
    “No matter. If I ever get out west again I shall collect them, or try.”
    He stood up. “Mademoiselle? There is another thing. You are very young, very fresh. You are also beautiful. I have heard it said that older actresses do not always like to have younger, more beautiful actresses in their plays.”
    She shrugged her shoulders. “I have heard Rachel Felix is a very shrewd woman, a good businesswoman. I do not think she will mind if the play is successful.”
    When she was home, she took the faded carpetbag he had brought and opened it. Packets of papers! Old letters, notes of money loaned and never repaid, old lists of mining shares for mines no doubt long forgotten, some of them her aunt’s possessions, some her own that had been left with her aunt when she went off to school.
    Suddenly among the papers she saw a familiar corner, and spreading the packet of envelopes she extracted