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Updated: May 15, 2025
At half-past seven o'clock Jerry and the rest of the reform party arrived, buzzing like a hive of bees. "Is she here yet?" whispered Jerry Macy in Marjorie's ear, after paying her respects to Mrs. Dean and Mary, who, with Marjorie, received their guests in the palm-decorated hall. "No, she hasn't come. I suppose she will arrive late. You know she loves to make a sensation."
There was, however, one change. For the first time that day, she looked a little pale. As the carriage stopped in front of the onyx-lined, palm-decorated, plate-glass-mirrored "entrance hall" of the expensive hotel, Aunt Victoria descended, motioning to Sylvia not to follow her. "I haven't time to drive any more this afternoon," she said. "Peter will take you home.
By just so much was she relieved of the evening's awful responsibility. She did not particularly admire this nice, fat young man, but to be saved from visible unpopularity, she would gladly have danced with the waiter. It was nearer eleven than ten o'clock when they sauntered through various wide hallways to the palm-decorated flight of stairs that led down to the ballroom.
A moment more and she was surrounded by Geraldine Macy, Irma Linton and Susan Atwell, who had come forth in a body from the long, palm-decorated parlor off the hall to welcome her, accompanied by a singularly handsome youth, a very tall, merry-faced young man and a black-haired, blue-eyed lad, with clean cut, sensitive features.
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