At twenty-five she already noticed a change in the personnel of her
followers. The unmarried men who had danced with her during her first
two winters were now sending flowers to the debutantes, and cutting in
on the younger men at balls. Her house was still a rendezvous, but it
was for couples like the ones who had preempted the drawing-room, the
library and the music room that afternoon. They met there, smoked her
cigarets, made love in a corner, occasionally became engaged. But she
was of the game, no longer in it.
Men still came to see her, a growing percentage of them married. They
brought or sent her tribute, flowers, candy, and cigarets. She was
enormously popular at dances. But more and more her dinner invitations
were from the older crowd. Like Natalie Spencer's stupid party the night
before.
So she watched Graham and listened. He was a nice boy and a handsome
one. Also he promised to be sole heir to a great business. If the war
only lasted long enough-"Imagine your knowing all those things," she said admiringly. "You're a
partner, aren't you?"
He flushed slightly.
"Not yet. But of course I shall be."
"When you really get going, I wonder if you will take me round and show
me how shells are made. I'm the most ignorant person you ever knew."
"I'll be awfully glad to."
"Very well. For that promise you shall have a highball. You're an awful
dear, you know."
She placed a slim hand on his shoulder and patted it. Then, leaning
rather heavily on him for support, she got to her feet.
"We'll go in and stir up some of the lovers," she suggested. "And if
Tommy Hale hasn't burned up the piano we can dance a bit. You dance
divinely, you know."
It was after seven when he reached home. He felt every inch a man. He
held himself very straight as he entered the house, and the boyish
grin with which he customarily greeted the butler had given place to a
dignified nod.
Natalie was in her dressing-room. At his knock she told the maid to
admit him, and threw a dressing-gown over her bare shoulders. Then she
sent the maid away and herself cautiously closed the door into Clayton's
room.
"I've got the money for you, darling," she said. From her jewel case she
took a roll of bills and held them out to him. "Five hundred."
"I hate to take it, mother."
"Never mind about taking it. Pay those bills before your father learns
about them. That's all."