when they feel that warm gold...”
“Now, Pearl,” interrupted Jubilee, “you’re forgetting these are ladies we’re visiting with. You can’t talk to them like we talk to one another.”
“Oh! Oh, you’re right.” Pearl colored becomingly. “Didn’t mean to make you uneasy, Miss Downing, or you either, Miss Parsons. Sometimes my tongue runs away with me.”
“It’s quite all right. You see, Violet and I had the mistaken impression that you were going to do much more than dance at the Gilded Cage. Since you aren’t, we’re quite relieved. Well!” Agatha snipped a thread and tended to business because she didn’t quite know how to respond to the subject under discussion. “All we have to do is string the cord through the top and we’re finished.”
“How’re we going to do that?” Jubilee asked, staring at the casing.
Agatha got up and limped toward the supply cabinet. “It’s quite simp—”
“Why, Miss Downing, you’re limping!” Jubilee exclaimed.
Agatha felt a rush of blood, a moment of awkwardness as she wondered how to respond to such a blatant observation.Thank heavens she was reaching into the honeycombed case for a hank of cord and a thick darning needle. By the time she faced the group again, she’d regained her poise. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? But—”
“I’ve had it for years. I’m used to it by now.” But Jubilee’s beautiful almond eyes were wide with concern.
“You mean you weren’t born that way?”
Oh, dear, how dreadfully acute she is, thought Agatha. Isn’t she bright enough to know she’s being tactless? Rattled, Agatha nevertheless answered truthfully, “No.”
“Then how did it happen?”
“I fell down some stairs when I was a young girl.”
Agatha could tell Violet was curious, too. Oddly enough, in the years they’d known each other Violet had never ventured to ask these questions.
Jubilee looked smack down at Agatha’s skirts. “Oh, gosh, you poor girl. How awful!” Several thoughts struck Agatha at once: it had been years since anyone had called her a girl; Jubilee was not being nosy, but, in her naïve way, compassionate; because of this, Agatha could no longer be annoyed.
Jubilee followed her first impulse. “Here, let me help you with that.” She approached Agatha, closed the door of the cabinet for her, and took the items from her hands. Chattering, she carried them back to their chairs. “And here we are talking about high kicks. We should have known better, but how could we? Still, it doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Agatha found it disconcerting to have her recurring thoughts spoken by a woman who was supposed to be “wicked.” She couldn’t help warming to the impetuous Jubilee.
“I’m not an invalid, Miss Jubilee,” she advised her with a wry smile. “I can carry my own needle and cord.”
“Oh!” Jubilee glanced at the things in her hands and gave a fluttery laugh. “Oh, of course you’re not! What’s the matter with me?” She stuffed the cording back into Agatha’s hand and passed her the needle.
How could anyone help but be charmed by Jubilee Bright?Nobody ever confronted Agatha’s lameness head-on. Now that she’d adjusted to the direct questioning, it became a welcome change from the sidelong glances of curiosity she usually received. And Jubilee did it with such refreshing lack of embarrassment Agatha felt her own tongue loosening.
“I do quite well, actually. Stairs are the worst, and I live upstairs.” She pointed up.
“Upstairs? You mean above the store?” Jubilee peered at the stamped-tin ceiling.
“Yes.”
“Then we’re going to be neighbors!” When Jubilee smiled she was a breathtaking sight, all sparkle and animation. The tilt of her wide eyes matched that of her open lips, giving her a look of youthful eagerness. She must have been greedily sought after in her former profession, Agatha thought. “We’re going to be living upstairs, too, so listen, if there’s ever anything
“Now, Pearl,” interrupted Jubilee, “you’re forgetting these are ladies we’re visiting with. You can’t talk to them like we talk to one another.”
“Oh! Oh, you’re right.” Pearl colored becomingly. “Didn’t mean to make you uneasy, Miss Downing, or you either, Miss Parsons. Sometimes my tongue runs away with me.”
“It’s quite all right. You see, Violet and I had the mistaken impression that you were going to do much more than dance at the Gilded Cage. Since you aren’t, we’re quite relieved. Well!” Agatha snipped a thread and tended to business because she didn’t quite know how to respond to the subject under discussion. “All we have to do is string the cord through the top and we’re finished.”
“How’re we going to do that?” Jubilee asked, staring at the casing.
Agatha got up and limped toward the supply cabinet. “It’s quite simp—”
“Why, Miss Downing, you’re limping!” Jubilee exclaimed.
Agatha felt a rush of blood, a moment of awkwardness as she wondered how to respond to such a blatant observation.Thank heavens she was reaching into the honeycombed case for a hank of cord and a thick darning needle. By the time she faced the group again, she’d regained her poise. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing? But—”
“I’ve had it for years. I’m used to it by now.” But Jubilee’s beautiful almond eyes were wide with concern.
“You mean you weren’t born that way?”
Oh, dear, how dreadfully acute she is, thought Agatha. Isn’t she bright enough to know she’s being tactless? Rattled, Agatha nevertheless answered truthfully, “No.”
“Then how did it happen?”
“I fell down some stairs when I was a young girl.”
Agatha could tell Violet was curious, too. Oddly enough, in the years they’d known each other Violet had never ventured to ask these questions.
Jubilee looked smack down at Agatha’s skirts. “Oh, gosh, you poor girl. How awful!” Several thoughts struck Agatha at once: it had been years since anyone had called her a girl; Jubilee was not being nosy, but, in her naïve way, compassionate; because of this, Agatha could no longer be annoyed.
Jubilee followed her first impulse. “Here, let me help you with that.” She approached Agatha, closed the door of the cabinet for her, and took the items from her hands. Chattering, she carried them back to their chairs. “And here we are talking about high kicks. We should have known better, but how could we? Still, it doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
Agatha found it disconcerting to have her recurring thoughts spoken by a woman who was supposed to be “wicked.” She couldn’t help warming to the impetuous Jubilee.
“I’m not an invalid, Miss Jubilee,” she advised her with a wry smile. “I can carry my own needle and cord.”
“Oh!” Jubilee glanced at the things in her hands and gave a fluttery laugh. “Oh, of course you’re not! What’s the matter with me?” She stuffed the cording back into Agatha’s hand and passed her the needle.
How could anyone help but be charmed by Jubilee Bright?Nobody ever confronted Agatha’s lameness head-on. Now that she’d adjusted to the direct questioning, it became a welcome change from the sidelong glances of curiosity she usually received. And Jubilee did it with such refreshing lack of embarrassment Agatha felt her own tongue loosening.
“I do quite well, actually. Stairs are the worst, and I live upstairs.” She pointed up.
“Upstairs? You mean above the store?” Jubilee peered at the stamped-tin ceiling.
“Yes.”
“Then we’re going to be neighbors!” When Jubilee smiled she was a breathtaking sight, all sparkle and animation. The tilt of her wide eyes matched that of her open lips, giving her a look of youthful eagerness. She must have been greedily sought after in her former profession, Agatha thought. “We’re going to be living upstairs, too, so listen, if there’s ever anything
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