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Updated: May 3, 2025
Thoughtfully adding a bloom to her cheeks with her friend's exquisite powder, Miss Vanderwall reflected sagely that, when one came to think of it, it must really be rather rotten to be married to Clarence Breckenridge. Rachael presently came back, with the signs of her recent emotion entirely effaced, and her wonderful skin glowing faintly from a bath.
"I don't have to!" asserted Miss Vanderwall, with a hearty kiss nevertheless, "for it will be your own fault entirely if there's ever the littlest, teeniest cloud in the sky!"
"Well, what would YOU do?" "Well. I'd" Miss Vanderwall arrested the hand with which she was carefully spreading her lips with red paste, to fling it, with a large gesture, into the air "I'd why don't you GET OUT? Simply drop it all?" she asked. "For several reasons," the other woman returned promptly with a sort of hard, bright pride. "One very excellent one is that I haven't one penny.
Alice's music, Georgiana's altruistic duties, these were matters of sacred family tradition, and if outsiders sometimes speculated as to the sisters' sincerity, at least no Vanderwall ever betrayed another. And despite their obvious handicaps, the five girls were regarded as social authorities, and their names were prominently displayed in newspaper accounts of all smart affairs.
"I'm dining in my room, I think. I'm all in." But the clear and candid eyes deceived no one. Clarence was misbehaving again, everybody decided, and poor Rachael could not bespeak five minutes of her own time until this particular period of intemperance was over. Miss Vanderwall, settling herself in the beautiful Breckenridge car five minutes later, faced the situation boldly.
Elinor Pomeroy said frankly. Elinor Vanderwall would not have been so impolitic. But Rachael felt that she would have liked to kiss her guest. "I think Magsie is rather good," she said deliberately. "Nothing like praising the girl with faint damns!" Peter Pomeroy chuckled. "Well, what do you think, Peter?" his hostess asked. "I oh, Lord!
Jeanette and Phyllis, as well as Elinor Vanderwall, Peter Pomeroy and George, the Buckneys and Parker Hoyt, the Emorys, the Chases, Mrs. Sartoris and old Mrs. Torrence and Jack, all jumbled a greeting to the Havilands. Of Carol they presently caught a glimpse standing on a sheltered little porch with Joe Pickering's sleek head beside her.
The linen shop, the milliner, a dinner absurdly happy, and one of the new plays a sunshiny morning when she and Elinor breakfasted in their rooms, and opened box after box of gowns and hats the hours fled by like a dream. "Nervous, Rachael?" asked Miss Vanderwall of the vision that looked out from Rachael's mirror.
"Wonderful I should say so!" Miss Vanderwall sighed admiringly at the memory. "Do you remember that one set went to nineteen twenty-one? Each man won on his own service 'most remarkable match I ever saw! But Clarence Breckenridge couldn't hold a racket now, and his game of bridge is getting to be absolutely rotten. Crime, I call it!" Vivian Sartoris offered no further remark.
"She's not as attractive as Rachael at that," said Peter Pomeroy. "I know, my dear Peter," Miss Vanderwall assented quickly. "But Billy's impulsive, and affectionate, at least, and Rachael is neither. Anyway, Billy's at the age now when she can't think of anything but herself. Her frocks, her parties, her friends that's all Clarence cares about!"
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