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Updated: May 13, 2025
And then, as Rachael did not answer, being indeed content to drink in the last of the long summer day in silence, Charlotte went on, with an air blended of comprehension and amusement: "Poor M'ma, she would so like me to be a little, fluffy, empty-headed butterfly of a girl, and I know I disappoint her!
Wasn't that " Her voice faltered nervously. "Was it something you would have rather telephoned about?" "Would rather have telephoned about?" Mrs. Haviland corrected automatically. "Well, M'ma would rather FEEL that when she sends a message it is given to JUST the person to whom she sent it, in JUST the way she sent it. However, in this case no harm was done.
And we talked of the things we liked, you know, the sort of house we both liked not like other people's houses!" Charlotte's plain young face had grown bright with the recollection, but now her voice sank lifelessly again. "But M'ma made me promise never to speak to him again, and of course I promised," she said dully. "I see." Rachael was silent. There seemed to be nothing to say.
Don't hook your heel over the rung of your chair, dear! Ring the bell, Isabelle, I want Alice." "I'll hook you, M'ma!" volunteered Charlotte. "Thank you, dear, but I want to speak to Alice. And now you girls might run along. I'll be down directly." A moment later she submitted herself patiently to the maid's hands.
Long ago both girls had lost, under this close surveillance and skilful system of cross-examination, their original regard for truth as truth. That they usually said what was true was because policy and self-protection suggested it. Charlotte had time now for a flying survey of the situation and its possibilities before she answered, somewhat uncertainly: "I asked Mrs. Roper to deliver it, M'ma.
"Any plans for the afternoon, girlies?" she asked now, when the forced strawberries were on the table, and little Florence was trying to eat the nuts out of her cake, and at the same time carefully avoid the cake itself and the frosting. "What's Carol doing, M'ma?" "When M'ma asks you a question, Isabelle, do not answer with another question, dear.
"Oh, n-n-not very well, Aunt Rachael that is, we didn't see each other often, since" Rachael knew since when, and liked Charlotte for the clumsy substitute "since Billy was married. I know Charlie called, but M'ma didn't tell me until weeks later, and then we were on the ocean.
"I always loved you," gulped Charlotte, "and I would have come to see you, if M'ma And of course it was nothing but the merest friendship b-between Charlie and me, only we we always seemed to like each other." And Charlotte, her romance ended, wiped her eyes and blew her nose, and went away. Rachael went slowly upstairs.
"Why didn't you go down to the courts, dear? I think Papa is playing!" "I didn't think of it, M'ma," said Charlotte lucidly. "What a dreadful age it is," mused Rachael. "I wonder which phase is hardest to deal with: Billy or poor little Carlotta?" Aloud, from the fulness of her own happiness, she said: "Suppose you walk down to the courts with me, Infant, and we will see what's going on?"
Of course, there's no harm in it, but it cheapens a girl just a LITTLE. While Charlotte might do it because she is older, and has seen Charlie Gregory at some of the little informal affairs last winter, you are younger, and haven't really seen much of him since he went to college. Don't let M'ma hear you do that again." Isabelle turned a lively scarlet, and even Charlotte colored and was silent.
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