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She told herself that Trudy was an inveterate gossip and this queer young person must be thinking aloud about revolutions in Russia or something like that; anything else was too absurd. So she repeated her invitation to come to see the gardens with their jewel-like pools and riotous masses of colour, and went on her way to select a most gorgeous frame for a most gorgeous portrait of herself.
He relied on Trudy to mend his clothes and make his neckties, keep house and manage with a laundress a half day a week, yet always be as well dressed and pretty as when she had slacked in the office and boarded without cares at Mary's house. She must always seem happy and proud of her husband and have her old pep being on the lookout for a way to make their fortunes.
"Rosemary!" a shrill whisper came down to her over the bannisters, as she went upstairs to leave the book she had selected for Aunt Trudy on the table in her room. "Rosemary, come up here, quick!" Rosemary, vaguely frightened, ran up to Sarah's room. Shirley was there and both little girls looked as though they had been crying.
"I'm after asking Miss Trudy these three nights running to speak to you, but does she? She does not. She speaks to Sarah who minds her about as well as the wind does. And Rosemary won't be doing her duty, either; she says 'twould be telling tales and she's got Shirley around to the same way of thinking." "A conspiracy, eh?" smiled Doctor Hugh.
Perhaps half of them were in fancy costume and fairies and Red Ridinghoods flitted about with Bobby Shaftos or miniature cavaliers. "Isn't it beautiful!" cried Dotty, at the threshold of the ball-room. She had never seen a party just like this before and the gay sight entranced her. "We can't go in," laughed Trudy, as she and her parents looked in at the door.
Beatrice realized that Trudy felt a greater joy and satisfaction in displaying this not-paid-for cheap machine having sat up half the night to make the shirred curtains than Beatrice ever could feel in her tapestry-lined, orchid-adorned limousine. So she began to envy Trudy just as Trudy envied her.
He succeeded in impressing on Sarah and Shirley, and even Winnie and Aunt Trudy, that they were not to mention Nina's name, or anything they might hear about that unfortunate afternoon, to Rosemary, on pain of his severest displeasure.
Trudy was keen as a brier whenever her own realm was threatened. With the shrewdness which caused her to refrain from ever speaking ill of a woman when talking to a man and never speaking aught but ill of women when talking to their own kind, she foresaw in Gay's constant attendance on the Gorgeous Girl the possibility of an unpleasant situation.
Trudy was sitting on the edge of Dolly's bed and she smiled lovingly down at her little sister. "I'm going to take care of you," she went on; "Mother wants to have a trained nurse, but I think you would like it better to have me for a nurse, wouldn't you?" "I'd like it better," and Dolly looked up wistfully, "but I don't want to bother you too much, Trudy."
Beatrice, in talking over the child problem with Trudy, decided that if she ever had a son she, too, would develop the poker shark in him rather than the admirer of Santa Claus and the student of Mother Goose. "Of course Steve thinks a woman should drudge and slave over those crying mites as if the nation depended upon it," she concluded, "but I should never pay any attention to him.
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