It was in May that the cable came to Frederica
announcing that Harriet was coming back for a long visit. "That's all
she said," Rodney explained to Rose. "But I suppose it means the finish.
She said she didn't want any fuss made, but she hinted she'd like to
have Freddy meet her in New York, and Freddy's going. Poor old Harriet!
That's rather a pill for her to swallow, if it's so. We must try to
cheer her up."
She didn't seem much in need of cheering up, Rose thought, when they
first met. All that showed on the _contessa's_ highly polished surface
was a disposition to talk humorously over old times with her old
friends, including her brother and sister, and a sort of dismayed
acquiescence in the smoky seriousness, the inadequate civilization, the
sprawling formlessness of the city of her birth, not excluding that part
of it which called itself society.
In broad strokes, you could describe Harriet by saying she was as
different as a beautiful woman could be from Frederica. She wasn't so
beautiful as Frederica, to be sure, but together they made a
wonderfully contrasted pair--Harriet almost as perfect a brunette type
as Frederica was a blonde, and got up with her ear-rings and her hair
and all to look rather exotic.
Pages:
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323