The Blue Bottle Club by Penelope Stokes

glitz and glamor. High-profile guests, in the country's largest and most elaborate private home. Never mind that Marcella had the looks of a ferret and all the charm and personality of a slab of Swiss cheese. She had social acceptability, and that was enough for Philip.
    Through the doorway Tish caught a glimpse of a skeletal form swallowed up in a blue satin gown. That would be Marcella. The dress looked as if it were still hanging on the rack.
    Tish tried to drum up some ill will toward her—if not outright hatred, at least a little rancor. But all she could feel was pity The girl might have money and prestige and a permanent place on the social register, but she also had Philip. And that was bound to cause her no end of heartache.
    "Are you all right, honey?"
    Tish turned to see her mother slicing cake at the kitchen counter. "I guess so."
    "Feeling left out?"
    "A little. At first it hurt, being here and seeing Philip's engagement party. As if I should be the one being the center of attention—even though I wouldn't want to marry him, you know?"
    "I know."
    "I wanted to hate Marcella, Mother. I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's true. But now, seeing her with him, I just—well, I just feel sorry for her."
    "No regrets?"
    Tish shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't mind having my wedding at the Biltmore. Is it true, that they're going to have the ceremony in the atrium?"
    "That's what I've heard," her mother said. "Cornelia Cecil is here, you know. She's fawning over Marcella as if the girl was a long-lost niece."
    Tish sighed. "What really hurts, I think, is seeing Adora out there with the guests while I'm stuck in the kitchen."
    "Adora is still your friend, Letitia," her mother countered. "Did you expect her to turn down the invitation?"
    "As much as Adora loves parties?" Tish laughed. "I don't think so. But did you notice who's not here?"
    Mother nodded. "Eleanor James and her daughter."
    Tish backed into the kitchen and began helping her mother arrange cake slices on a crystal platter. "I didn't expect Mary Love to be invited, even though she and Marcella are in the same class. But Ellie has known Philip nearly as long as I have, and Big Eleanor has been a pillar of Asheville society—and a friend of the Dorns—forever."
    "Times change, honey Mrs. James is having a difficult time adjusting, I understand."
    "So Ellie says. The loss of their money was bad enough. But to be snubbed like this—"
    "She blames your father, doesn't she?"
    Tish averted her eyes. "Maybe just a little. But it's worse than that, Mother. Ellie says she's just—well, not right."
    What Ellie had actually said was that Big Eleanor had gone over the edge. She had stopped eating and almost never slept. She wandered the house at all hours of the day and night and once Ellie found her in her nightgown out in the street at three in the morning. Maybe it was for her own good, Tish mused, that Big Eleanor had ceased receiving invitations to society functions.
    The kitchen door swung open and Alice Dorn entered under full sail. "Everything is wonderful, Maris! Our guests are absolutely ecstatic over those petits fours!"
    Mother blushed. "Thank you, Alice," she murmured. "We worked very hard on them."
    "Mrs. Dorn," Alice corrected.
    Tish looked at her mother and saw the flush fade. Mother's face had gone stark white. "Excuse me?"
    Alice gave a high, tittering laugh. "Well, even though we've known each other for a long time, I don't think it's quite proper for you to call me by my given name, do you? All the servants call me 'Mrs. Dorn'—what would Cornelia Vanderbilt say if she heard me being overly familiar with the help?"
    "Cecil," Mother corrected tersely "Her married name is Cecil."
    Alice's eyes narrowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was like ice crystals. "A Vanderbilt is always a Vanderbilt," she said haughtily. "You may serve coffee now And do keep your daughter out of sight; we wouldn't want her presence upsetting Philip and