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Sometimes, you wonder if some of the old folk don't have dispositions that they can turn off or on at will. It is not hard to realize the reason why Amanda was treated better than other children when you remember that she called her grandpa "Master". Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson Person interviewed: "Cat" Ross Brassfield, Ark. Age: Born 1862
"But you were cruel enough not to give up going of your own accord," she sighed in the twilight. And, turning wearily back toward the house, she reflected that if she had been fatally weak he had been fatally strong, and that, after all, those two antithetical defects were strangely similar. When she was most gloomy, Fanny Brassfield came to visit her for a few days.
Miles beyond, he became aware that he was calling out maledictions: and strangers, passing at a decent speed, had a vision of a dapper, ghastly wretch who appeared to be fleeing on the wings of the wind from the clutch of insanity. Fanny Brassfield, whose country house was not far away, sometimes dropped in to see Lilla.
Now and then, craving a glimpse of the gay streets and the shops, Lilla went into town "to see that everything was all right" in the house on lower Fifth Avenue, or else, "to make sure that Parr was comfortable." One afternoon, at a stoppage of the traffic her limousine came side by side with that of Fanny Brassfield, who persuaded her to look in at a horse show.
From a wooded hilltop they saw, gliding along the highway, the cars of men who were bound for their safe occupations in the city. Lilla regained the house exhausted, pale from fatigue, while Fanny Brassfield seemed bursting with energy. In the evening time began to hang rather heavily for Fanny. She persuaded Lilla to play the piano for her.
But I feel that it is some one who has loved you. He is dead. That is to say, he will be dead when the scene that I am describing is realized; but now he is alive " Lilla, raising her eyes, saw in the doorway, with Fanny Brassfield, a tall man, a stranger, whose countenance was aquiline and swarthy. It was Lawrence Teck, the explorer.
Fanny Brassfield inquired of a young man in the doorway of the drawing-room, in her clear, grating voice that seemed made to express an involuntary disdain of everything not comprised in her luxurious little world.
But his clear-cut carnelian mouth, vivid between his faint mustache and his delicate beard, did not change expression, although he was calling the great Mrs. Brassfield a female beneath the contempt of a Muscat slaver, the progeny of camels and alley dogs, and other names besides.
Hamoud, towering there in the attire of an Omân gentleman which she took for a specially effective livery contemplated the great Mrs. Brassfield. His full eyelids were dreamily lowered over his lustrous eyes. His long, straight nose seemed narrower than usual, perhaps from disdain.
And when Lilla had shaken her head, the blonde, lean temptress exclaimed in exasperation: "I declare, you're no good to anybody any more!" A sleek-looking man in riding clothes stepped down into the box. Fanny Brassfield, who had been craning her neck indignantly, disregarded his outstretched hand to give his arm a push, while crying out: "Go get her for me, Jimmy. Anna Zanidov.
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