asked a lot of eager questions, so that they would do the talking for a little while.
I must have been acquitting myself quite creditably, because Mr. Hunt drifted by one time, leaned close to me and mumbled in my ear: “You’re doing fine.”
I had got separated from Grant, as I wanted to be, since I shouldn’t appear a clinging vine that he had to look out for, and of course Mrs. Hunt was too busy to be paying much attention to me anymore. Then two or three women who were talking to me suddenly stopped what they were saying and glanced over my shoulder toward the entrance from the outer hall. I became aware that a strained hush had fallen over the room. I turned around and there, standing with Mrs. Hunt, was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She didn’t appear to be over thirty-eight, she was even smaller than I am, with a lovely figure and beautiful high color in her cheeks that you could tell at once was natural. Her hair was blonde but shot slightly with gold so it was very brilliant. Her eyes were a peculiarly vivid green which I could see even from where I was. She had on the simplest summer dress, black with a design in it, and yet with her figure you could hardly take your eyes off it. She seemed to radiate charm and friendliness, and I was still staring at her when Mrs. Hunt came over to me. Her face was drawn and nervous and she didn’t quite look me in the eye when she spoke. “Don’t say I did this to you. She wasn’t even invited. So come on. But I can tell you this much. The worst you can possibly imagine can’t be as bad as it’s really going to be.”
“Who is it?”
“Mother.”
It seemed impossible that one so young could be Grant’s mother, but I later found out she had been married at seventeen and that Grant came along as soon as the law allowed. But in spite of my surprise a chill began to creep up my backbone. I took a deep breath and we crossed the room.
Eight
W E HAD NO SOONER done so than I discovered that the warm friendliness was all on the outside, with none on the inside whatever. She had shaken hands with some woman and stood there talking about a Commander in the Navy and the funny way he used to kick the goals when he was a midshipman at Annapolis, keeping Mrs. Hunt and me waiting and never looking at us at all. Even the woman was getting uncomfortable and Mrs. Hunt was growing more irritated by the second. Suddenly she cut in sharply:
“Mother!...If you can interrupt that fascinating discourse on the drop kicks long enough—”
“Place kicks, dear. Not drop kicks.”
“They’ll be just plain shin kicks if I hear any more about them—I’d like to present Granny’s new bride, the young Mrs. Harris.”
Mrs. Harris looked at me then and her eyes seemed to shrink into two pieces of hard green glass. She opened her arms, drew me to her and spoke in a voice that fairly throbbed with emotion: “Darling! Oh, I’ve been looking forward so much to meeting you! Every day I made up my mind to pay you a visit but I’ve been so ill—really, you have no idea. Will you overlook it—can you bring yourself to forgive me?”
She didn’t look ill and I didn’t believe she cared whether I forgave her or not, but I thought if she was going to be hypocritical I might as well too, so I made my voice sound as gushy as I could and said: “And I too, Mrs. Harris! I so wanted to call at the hospital the moment I heard you were there but I wasn’t sure you would like it, because so few of us look well in hospitals, do we?”
This dirty crack seemed to surprise her greatly but nothing like as much as it surprised me, so we stood grinning at each other, our arms intertwined, and for a moment neither of us had any more to say. Then a servant came up with a tray of cocktails and she stood there at her favorite trick of making everybody wait. This time it was while she decided what kind of cocktail she wanted. There were Martinis, Manhattans and side-cars on the tray,
I must have been acquitting myself quite creditably, because Mr. Hunt drifted by one time, leaned close to me and mumbled in my ear: “You’re doing fine.”
I had got separated from Grant, as I wanted to be, since I shouldn’t appear a clinging vine that he had to look out for, and of course Mrs. Hunt was too busy to be paying much attention to me anymore. Then two or three women who were talking to me suddenly stopped what they were saying and glanced over my shoulder toward the entrance from the outer hall. I became aware that a strained hush had fallen over the room. I turned around and there, standing with Mrs. Hunt, was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She didn’t appear to be over thirty-eight, she was even smaller than I am, with a lovely figure and beautiful high color in her cheeks that you could tell at once was natural. Her hair was blonde but shot slightly with gold so it was very brilliant. Her eyes were a peculiarly vivid green which I could see even from where I was. She had on the simplest summer dress, black with a design in it, and yet with her figure you could hardly take your eyes off it. She seemed to radiate charm and friendliness, and I was still staring at her when Mrs. Hunt came over to me. Her face was drawn and nervous and she didn’t quite look me in the eye when she spoke. “Don’t say I did this to you. She wasn’t even invited. So come on. But I can tell you this much. The worst you can possibly imagine can’t be as bad as it’s really going to be.”
“Who is it?”
“Mother.”
It seemed impossible that one so young could be Grant’s mother, but I later found out she had been married at seventeen and that Grant came along as soon as the law allowed. But in spite of my surprise a chill began to creep up my backbone. I took a deep breath and we crossed the room.
Eight
W E HAD NO SOONER done so than I discovered that the warm friendliness was all on the outside, with none on the inside whatever. She had shaken hands with some woman and stood there talking about a Commander in the Navy and the funny way he used to kick the goals when he was a midshipman at Annapolis, keeping Mrs. Hunt and me waiting and never looking at us at all. Even the woman was getting uncomfortable and Mrs. Hunt was growing more irritated by the second. Suddenly she cut in sharply:
“Mother!...If you can interrupt that fascinating discourse on the drop kicks long enough—”
“Place kicks, dear. Not drop kicks.”
“They’ll be just plain shin kicks if I hear any more about them—I’d like to present Granny’s new bride, the young Mrs. Harris.”
Mrs. Harris looked at me then and her eyes seemed to shrink into two pieces of hard green glass. She opened her arms, drew me to her and spoke in a voice that fairly throbbed with emotion: “Darling! Oh, I’ve been looking forward so much to meeting you! Every day I made up my mind to pay you a visit but I’ve been so ill—really, you have no idea. Will you overlook it—can you bring yourself to forgive me?”
She didn’t look ill and I didn’t believe she cared whether I forgave her or not, but I thought if she was going to be hypocritical I might as well too, so I made my voice sound as gushy as I could and said: “And I too, Mrs. Harris! I so wanted to call at the hospital the moment I heard you were there but I wasn’t sure you would like it, because so few of us look well in hospitals, do we?”
This dirty crack seemed to surprise her greatly but nothing like as much as it surprised me, so we stood grinning at each other, our arms intertwined, and for a moment neither of us had any more to say. Then a servant came up with a tray of cocktails and she stood there at her favorite trick of making everybody wait. This time it was while she decided what kind of cocktail she wanted. There were Martinis, Manhattans and side-cars on the tray,
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