Once or twice a month, Jeannette took her mother to a matinée. She loved to go to the theatre herself, and studied the advertisements, read all the daily theatrical notes and never missed a review. She would secure seats for the play, weeks in advance, and always took her mother to lunch downtown before the performance. These were wonderful and felicitous occasions for both of them. They had great arguments each time as to where they should eat, what they should select from the magnificent menus, and later about the play itself. Jeannette liked to startle her mother by selecting some extravagant item from the bill-of-fare, or surprise her by handing her a little present across the table. Sometimes as they came out of the theatre she would pilot her without preamble toward a hansom-cab and before the excited little woman knew what it was about, would help her in, and tell the cabby to drive them home slowly through the Park.
“Oh, dearie, you’re not going to do this again!” Mrs. Sturgis would expostulate drawing back from the waiting vehicle. She really wished to protest against the needless extravagance. Jeannette would smile lovingly at her, and urge her in. Later as they were rumbling through the leafless Park and met a stream of automobiles and sumptuous equipages going in the opposite direction, Mrs. Sturgis would settle herself back with a sigh of contentment and say:
“Really, dearie, I don’t think there is anything I enjoy quite as much as riding in a hansom. You’re very good to your old mother. We may land in the poorhouse, but we’re having a good time while the luck lasts.”
On the occasion of the first performance of _Parsifal_ at the Metropolitan, Jeannette, through Mr. Corey, was able to secure one ten-dollar seat for her mother. It was the greatest event in little Mrs. Sturgis’ life. She longed for Ralph, and wept all through the Good Friday music.
Frequently on Sunday afternoons Jeannette’s mother made her daughter accompany her to Carnegie Hall for a concert or a recital. Then, she declared, it was her turn to treat and she would not allow the girl to pay for anything. Her entertainments were never as “grand” as her daughter’s, but she took a keen delight in playing hostess, and after the music always suggested tea. They were both exceedingly fond of toasted crumpets, and Mrs. Sturgis was ever on the lookout for new places where they were served. But neither of her daughters inherited her love for music. Jeannette went to the concerts dutifully, but the satisfaction derived from these afternoons came from giving her mother pleasure rather than from the jumble of sound made by the wailing strings, tooting wood-winds and blaring trumpets. She could make nothing out of it all. When there was a soloist she was interested, especially if it was a woman, of whose costume she made careful notes.