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Heeny's clippings supplied her with such items as her own reading missed; and one day the masseuse appeared with a long article from the leading journal of Little Rock, describing the brilliant nuptials of Mabel Lipscomb now Mrs. Homer Branney and her departure for "the Coast" in the bridegroom's private car.
Lily Wilkinson Thompson, an officer in the State Suffrage Association from its organization until its work was finished. Besides those mentioned the following served on the official board: Mrs. Jimmie Andrews Lipscomb, Mrs. Nella Lawrence Lee, Miss Mattie Kirkpatrick, Mrs. Annie Kinkead Dent, Mrs. Ella O. Biggs, Mrs. Alma Dorsey Birdsall, Mrs. Durrant, Mrs. Edith Marshall Tucker, Mrs.
Undine, during the first months of her exile, had been sustained by the fullest confidence in her future. When she had parted from Van Degen she had felt sure he meant to marry her, and the fact that Mrs. Lipscomb was fortified by no similar hope made her easier to bear with.
Spragg began reproachfully; but Mrs. Heeny, heedless of their bickerings, was pursuing her own train of thought. "What Popple? Claud Walsingham Popple the portrait painter?" "Yes I suppose so. He said he'd like to paint me. Mabel Lipscomb introduced him. I don't care if I never see him again," the girl said, bathed in angry pink. "Do you know him, Mrs. Heeny?" Mrs. Spragg enquired.
But its handle remained unturned, and Harry Lipscomb, leaning back on the sofa, his head against the opera cloaks, continued to breathe stentorously through his open mouth and stretched his legs a little farther across the threshold... The entr'acte was nearly over when the door opened and two gentlemen stumbled over Mr. Lipscomb's legs.
This was so obviously comic that they all laughed even Mrs. Spragg and Undine went on more mildly: "I want to do something for Mabel Lipscomb: make some return. She's always taking me 'round, and I've never done a thing for her not a single thing." This appeal to the national belief in the duty of reciprocal "treating" could not fail of its effect, and Mrs.
She was no longer capable of following the action on the stage. Two presences possessed her imagination: that of Ralph Marvell, small, unattainable, remote, and that of Mabel Lipscomb, near-by, immense and irrepressible. It had become clear to Undine that Mabel Lipscomb was ridiculous. That was the reason why Popple did not come to the box.
The boot was off with a wrench, and she flung it violently across the old-rose carpet, while Mrs. Spragg, turning away to hide a look of inexpressible relief, slipped discreetly from the room. The day wore on. Undine had meant to go down and tell Mabel Lipscomb about the Fairford dinner, but its aftertaste was flat on her lips. What would it lead to? Nothing, as far as she could see.
"But you have a great friend of your own the lady who takes you into society," Mr. Dagonet pursued; and Undine had the sense that the irrepressible Mabel was again "pushing in." "Oh, yes Mabel Lipscomb. We were school-mates," she said indifferently. "Lipscomb? Lipscomb? What is Mr. Lipscomb's occupation?"
Hitherto Undine had imagined that the Driscoll and Van Degen clans and their allies held undisputed suzerainty over New York society. Mabel Lipscomb thought so too, and was given to bragging of her acquaintance with a Mrs. Spoff, who was merely a second cousin of Mrs. Harmon B. Driscoll's. Yet here was she.
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