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Updated: May 2, 2025
He makes her draw a dozen long respirations. "I do not believe it can be anything serious," he says, kindly, "but we will keep good watch. I will be in again early in the morning. There is no present cause for anxiety," studying Grandon's perturbed face. "I hope there is none at all," the husband responds, gravely. "And would it be possible to move her in a day or two?"
"Mignonne," the professor says, softly, and takes her hand, "come out of thy too passionate dream. That is the musician's soul, but it is not daily food." Her eyes are blind with tears, and she is glad to rise with the crowd and go. Gertrude Grandon's brief engagement is shortened by nearly a fortnight on account of a literary meeting at Chicago that the professor must attend.
Gertrude knows more of the world and is silent. What if some day Floyd should become suddenly blinded by madame's fascinations? It is always so in novels. Somewhere about mid-afternoon there is a breezy voice in the house, and a step comes up the stair which is not Grandon's. A light tap, and the partly open door is pushed wider. "Mr.
Grandon knows what is delightful; let us follow her example and sit here on the porch. You Americans are indoors quite too much. And I want to see the child, Mr. Grandon's pretty daughter." "I must be excused then," declares Laura. "They may entertain you, Arthur, but I must see mamma and take off my bonnet." The others seat themselves in the bamboo veranda chairs.
Banker, or returned Sybil Grandon's call, feeling that there was about her nothing for which Katy need to blush, or even Wilford, who blandly invited her one pleasant day to drive with him to the Park, seeming so disappointed when told that he had been forestalled by Mr.
Laura's vexation made her rather unjust, and Mrs. Grandon's hair is magnificent, not really red, at all, and her manners are simply quaint and delicate. She doesn't need any training; it would be rubbing the bloom off the peach. I just wish Winnie Ascott could see her!" "You and John and the Ascotts have rather a weakness for bread-and-milk flavoring.
This is Mrs. Floyd Grandon's first appearance in society, and the guests eye her with a something too well-bred for curiosity. She looks very petite in her trailing dress of dead silk that imitates crape, but is much softer. So quiet, so like a wraith, and yet with a fascinating loveliness in her eyes, in her tender, blossom-like face, in her fresh young voice.
This is Monday, and on Tuesday the elite of Grandon Park and a select few of the crême of Westbrook are invited to dinner. Laura is the star of the occasion, but madame is its grace, its surprise, its charm. The few who have seen her are delighted to renew the acquaintance, others are charmed, fascinated. There has been no little undercurrent of curiosity concerning Mr. Floyd Grandon's wife.
When he started the disaffection among the men he did not count on its culmination quite so soon, and again he has unwittingly played into Floyd Grandon's hands; how fatally he knows best himself. "Then the men are to consider themselves discharged." "They are to consider that they discharged themselves," says the master of the situation.
If there should be some mistake, some weak point, the result must be failure for all concerned. Would Wilmarth still desire to marry Miss St. Vincent? he wonders. Denise receives him with a smile in her bright eyes. "He is very comfortable," she says, and Grandon takes heart. Lindmeyer is waiting for him. His rather intense face is hopeful; and Grandon's spirits go up.
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