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Updated: September 2, 2025
Boiled odors lay upon a parlor that was otherwise redolent of the more opulent days of the Gallups. A not too ostentatious clatter of dishes came through the closed folding-doors. Almost immediately Mrs. Alys Brewster-Smith, her favorite Concentrated Breath of the Lily always in advance, rustled into the darkened parlor, her stride hitting vigorously into her black taffeta skirts.
"They showed these right opposite your windows?" she questioned. "Yes," he returned. "Our friend Mrs. Herrington did it herself. It was the first course of our dinner. If you think that's good taste " "I would expect it of her," said Alys Brewster-Smith. "But it makes it so easy for George," Emelene repeated. "They'll know now what sort of a man he is.
Brewster-Smith looked up, rolling her large eyes in frank amazement. "Go out there? What for? It isn't the sort of a district a lady cares to be seen in, I'm told; and, besides, George is looking after that for me. He understands such matters, and I frankly own I don't. Business makes me quite dizzy," she added with a flash of very white teeth. Geneviève hesitated, then went to the point.
Neither Sampson nor er Eliot is, I think, advisable for your best interests." At the mention of the last name Genevieve's expressive face stretched to speak; then she closed her lips with self-controlled determination. Mrs. Brewster-Smith looked at her host in scandalized amazement. "But I told you," she almost whimpered, "that his wife is simply impossible." George smiled tolerantly.
The other, shorter, slighter, several years older, a faded, smiling, tremulously hopeful spinster, was Genevieve's own cousin, Emelene Brand. "It's so nice of you to come " Geneviève began timidly, only to be swept aside by the superior aggressiveness and the stronger voice of Mrs. Brewster-Smith. "My dear! Isn't it perfectly delightful to see you actually mistress of this wonderful old home.
Then they reeled away up the street, gasping and choking with mirth, festooning themselves about trees for support when their legs gave way under them. "Did you see George's face when Emelene let the cat eat out of her plate!" cried Betty. "And did you see Genevieve's when Mrs. Brewster-Smith had the dessert set down in front of her to serve!"
It was because she could depend on Betty's intelligence, she went on to say, that she had called her instead of the Remington house for suppose that fool Brewster-Smith woman had come to the telephone! She and Geneviève occupied themselves with their bonds, fumbling back to back for a while, until Geneviève had a brilliant idea.
He looked very tall and strong as he stood before the mantel, receiving the congratulations of Mrs. Brewster-Smith and the timid admiration of Cousin Emelene. His few words were well chosen and were uttered with dignity. "And now, dear Mr. Remington, I'm sure I don't need to ask you if you are taking the right stand on suffrage." This from Mrs. Brewster-Smith. The candidate smiled tolerantly.
"Isn't there anything else than that to talk about ever?" "But just think how lucky you are, George," she said, "that at home they all think exactly as you do!" He jumped up. Evidently this reminder of the purring acquiescences of Cousin Emelene and Mrs. Brewster-Smith laid no balm upon his harassed spirit. "You may leave my home alone, if you please."
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