Mrs. Haviland's usual attitude of assured superiority never
impressed her sister-in-law. Her pompous magnificence was a source
of unmitigated amusement to Rachael. But now the older woman's
emotion had carried her on to genuine and honest expression in
spite of herself, and listening, Rachael found herself curiously
stirred. She looked down, conscious of a sudden melting in her
heart, a thickening in her throat.
"I've always been so fond of you, Rachael," Florence went on.
"I've always stood your friend--you know that--"
"I know," Rachael said huskily, her lashes dropped.
"Long before I knew how much you would be liked, Rachael, and what
a fuss people were going to make over you, I made you welcome,"
continued Florence simply, with tears in her eyes. "I thanked God
that Clarence had married a good woman, and that Carol would have
a refined and a--I may say a Christian home. Isn't that true?"
"I know," Rachael said again with an effort, as she paused.
"Then think it over," besought the other woman eagerly. "Think
that Carol will marry, and that Clarence--" Her ardent tone
dropped suddenly. There was a moment's pause. Then she added
dryly, "How do, dear?"
"How do, Tante Firenze!" said Carol, who had come abruptly into
the, room. "How are the girls? Say, listen! Is Isabelle going to
the Bowditches'?"
"I don't even know that Charlotte is going," Mrs. Haviland said,
with an auntly smile of baffling sweetness that yet contained a
subtle reproof. "Uncle Gardner and I haven't made up our minds.
Isabelle in any case would only go to look on, so she is not so
much interested, but poor Charlotte is simply on tenterhooks to
know whether it's to be yes or no. Girls' first parties"--her
indulgent smile included Rachael--"dear me, how important they
seem!"
"I should think you'd have to answer Mrs. Bowditch," said Carol in
plain disgust at this maternal vacillation.
"Mrs. Bowditch is fortunately an old enough friend, dear, to waive
the usual formalities," her aunt answered sweetly.
"But, my gracious--Charlotte's two months older than I am, and she
won't know any of the men!" Carol protested.
"Don't speak in that precocious way, Bill," Rachael said sharply.
"You went to your first dances last winter!"
Carol gave her stepmother a look conspicuously devoid of
affection, and turned to adjust her smart little hat with the aid
of a narrow mirror hanging between the glass dining-room doors.
"You couldn't drop me at the club, on your way to church, Tante?"
she presently inquired. And to Rachael she added, with youthful
impatience, "I told Dad where I was going!"
Mrs. Haviland rose somewhat heavily.