CHAPTER IV
The Studdifords, with some four hundred other San Francisco society folk, regarded the Browning dances as quite the most important of the winter"s social affairs, and Julia, who thoroughly liked the host and the brilliant a.s.sembly, really enjoyed them more than the smaller and more select affairs. The Brownings were a beloved and revered inst.i.tution; very few new faces appeared there from year to year, except the very choice of the annual crop of debutantes. Little Mrs. Studdiford had made a sensation when she first came, at her handsome husband"s side, a year ago, her dazzling prettiness set off by the simplest of milk-white Paris gowns, her wonderful crown of hair wound about with pearls. Now she was a real favourite, and at the January ball, in her second winter in society, a score of admirers a.s.sured her that her gown was the prettiest in the room.
"That pleases you, doesn"t it, Jim?" she smiled, as he put her into a red velvet armchair, at the end of the long ballroom, and dropped into a chair beside her.
"Well, it"s true," Jim a.s.sured her, "and, what"s more, you"re the most beautiful woman in the room, too!"
"Oh, Jeemy! What a story! But go get your dances, dear, if we"re not going to stay for supper. Here"s Mrs. Thayer to amuse me," said Julia, as a magnificent old woman came toward her with a smile.
"Not dancing, dear?" said the dowager, as she sank heavily into the seat Jim left. "Whyn"t you dancing with the other girls? I"--she panted and fanned, idly scanning the room--"I tell Brownie I don"t know how he gets the men!" she added, "lots of "em; supper brings "em, probably! Whyn"t you dancing, dear?"
"She"s implying that her ankle was sprained," Jim grinned, departing.
Julia dimpled. The dowager brought an approving eye to bear upon her.
"Well--well, you don"t say so? Now that"s very nice indeed," she said comfortably; "well, I declare! I hadn"t heard a word of it--and you"re glad, of course?"
"Oh, very glad!" Julia a.s.sured her, colouring.
"That"s nice, too!" Mrs. Thayer rumbled on, her eyes beginning again to rove the room. "Fuss, of course, and lots of trouble, but you forget all that! Yes, I love children myself, used to be the most devoted mother alive, puttin" "em to bed, and all that, yes, indeed!"
"You had two?" Julia hazarded. The dowager gave her a surprised glance.
"I, me dear? I had five--Rose there, that"s Mrs. St. John, and Kate, you know her? Mrs. Willis, and my boy that"s in Canada now, and the boy I lost, and Lillian--Lily we called her, she was only three. Diphtheria."
"Oh!" Julia said, shocked.
"Yes, indeed, I thought it would break Colonel Thayer"s heart," pursued Mrs. Thayer, fanning regally, and watching the room. "She was the first--Lily would be nearly forty now! Look, Julia, who is that with Isabel Wallace? Who? Oh, yes, Mary Chauncey. See if you can see her husband anywhere. I"d give a good deal to know if she came with him!"
"Mrs. Thayer," said Julia presently, "how long have you been coming to the Brownings?"
"I? Oh, since they were started, child. There was a little group of us that used to dance round at each other"s houses, then some of the men got together and formed a little club--Brownie was one of them. The Saunders used to come. Ella was about eighteen, and Sally and Anna Toland, and the Harts, and the Kirkwoods. Who"s that with young Brice, Julia, me dear? Peter Coleman, is it?"
"Talking to Mr. Carter, yes, that"s Mr. Coleman. He"s a beautiful dancer," said Julia.
"Peter is? Yes, well, then, why don"t you--But you"re not dancing, of course," Mrs. Thayer said. "There"s Gordon Jones and his wife! Why Brownie ever let them in I don"t--Ah, Ella, how are you, dear?"
"Fine, thank you!" said the newcomer, a magnificent woman of perhaps forty, in a very beautiful gown. "How do you do, Mrs. Studdiford?" she added cordially, as she sat down. "Dancing, surely?"
"Now she"s got the best reason in the world for not dancing," said old Mrs. Thayer, with a protective motion of her fan.
"Oh--so?" Miss Saunders said, after a quick look of interrogation.
"Well, that"s--dutiful, isn"t it?" She raised her eyebrows, made a little grimace, and laughed.
"Now, Ella, don"t ye say anything wicked!" Mrs. Thayer warned her, and the fan was used to tap Miss Saunders sharply on her smooth, big arm.
"Wicked!" Miss Saunders said negligently, watching the dancers, "I think it"s fine. I always said I"d have ten. Is Jim pleased?"
"He"s perfectly delighted--yes," Julia a.s.sented, suddenly feeling that this careless talk, in this bright, hot room, was not fair to the little one she already loved so dearly.
"Is that Mrs. Brock or Vera?" Mrs. Thayer asked. "I declare they look alike!"
"That"s Alice," Ella answered, after a glance, "don"t you know that blue silk? They"ve got the Hazzards with them."
"Gets worse every year, absolutely," the old lady declared, "doesn"t it, Ella? Emily here?"
"No, she"s wretched, poor kid. But Ken"s here somewhere. There are the Geralds," Miss Saunders added, leaning toward the old woman and sinking her tone to a low murmur. "Have you heard about Mason Gerald and Paula Billings--oh, _haven"t_ you? Not about the car breaking down--_haven"t_ you? Well, my _dear_--"
Julia lost the story, and sat watching the room, a vague little smile curving her lips, her blue eyes moving idly to and fro. She saw Mrs.
Toland come in with her two lovely daughters. Julia had had tea with them that afternoon at the hotel, where they would spend the night. The orchestra was silent just now, and the dancers were drifting about the room, a great brilliant circle. Some of the men were clapping their hands, all of them were laughing as they bent their sleek heads toward their partners, and all the girls were laughing, too, and talking animatedly as they raised wide-open eyes. Julia admired the gowns: shining pink and cloudy pink, blue with lace and blue with spangles, white alone, and white with every colour in the world; a yellow and black gown that was indescribably dashing, and a yellow and black gown that somehow looked very flat and dowdy. She noticed the Ripley pearls on Miss Dolly Ripley"s scrawny little lean neck, and that charming Isabel Wallace danced a good deal with her own handsome, shy young brothers, and seemed eager that they should enjoy what was evidently their first Browning. She studied the old faces, the hard faces, the faded faces, the painted cheeks and powdered necks; she read the tragedy behind the drooping head of some debutante, the triumph in the high laugh of another. There was poor Connie Fox, desperately eager and amiable, dancing with the youngest men and the oldest men, glittering and jolly in her dingy blue silk; and Connie"s mother, who was her chaperon, a little fluttering fool of a woman, nervously eager to ingratiate, and nervously afraid to intrude her company upon these demi-G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses; and Theodora Carleton, handsome in too low cut a gown, laughing with Alan Gregory, and aware, as every one in the room was aware, that her husband"s first wife was also at the dance. The room grew warm, the air heavy with delicate perfumes. Men were mopping their faces; some of the debutantes looked like wilting roses; the faces of some of the older women were shining. It was midnight, the latest comers had arrived, the floor was well filled.
"I wonder if I will be doing this twenty years from now," thought Julia.
"I wonder if my daughter will come to the Brownings, then?"
"... which I call disgraceful, don"t you, Mrs. Studdiford?" asked Miss Saunders suddenly.
"I beg your pardon!" Julia said, startled into attention, "I didn"t hear you!"
"I know you didn"t," the other said, laughing, "nevertheless, it was a low trick," she added to Mrs. Thayer, "and Leila Orvis can wait a long time before she makes the peace with _me_! Charity"s all very well, but when it comes to palming off girls like that upon your friends, it"s just a little too _much_!"
"How"s it happen ye didn"t ask the girl for any references, me dear?"
asked Mrs. Thayer.
"Because Leila told me she knew all about her!" snapped Miss Saunders.
"What was she, a waitress?" Julia asked, amused.
"No, she was nothing!" Miss Saunders said in high scorn; "she"d had no training whatever--not that I mind _that_. She was simply supposed to help with the pantry work and make herself generally useful. Well, one day Carrie, a maid Mother"s had for _years_, told Mother that something this Ada had said she fancied Ada had been in some sort of reform school--imagine! Of course poor Mother collapsed, and Emily telephoned for me--the kid always rises to an emergency, I will say that. So I rushed home, and got the whole story out of Ada in five minutes. At first she cried a good deal, and pretended it was an orphans" home; orphans" home--ha! Finally I scared her into admitting that it was a place just for girls of her sort--"
"Fancy!" said Mrs. Thayer, fanning. Julia had grown a little pale.
"What did you do, Miss Saunders?" said she.
"Do? I sent her packing, of course!" said that lady, smiling as she bowed to an acquaintance across the room. "I told her to go straight back to Mrs. Orvis, and say I sent her. However, she didn"t, for I telephoned Leila at once--Lucy Bacon is trying to bow to you, Mrs.
Studdiford--over there, with your husband!"
"I wonder where she did go?" pursued Julia.
"I really have no idea!" Miss Saunders said.
"You may be sure she knew just where to go, a creature like that!" old Mrs. Thayer said wisely. "How de do, Peter, Auntie here?" she called to a smiling man who went by.
"Oh, she wouldn"t go utterly bad," Julia protested; "you can"t tell, she may have been decent for years. It may have been years ago--"
"Still, me dear," old Mrs. Thayer said comfortably, "one doesn"t like the idea--one can"t overlook that, ye know."
"Of course, it"s too bad," Miss Saunders added briskly, "and it"s a great pity, and things ought to be different from what they are, and all _that_; but at the same time you couldn"t have a girl like that in the house, now could you?"
"Oh, yes, I could!" said Julia, scarlet cheeked, "I was just thinking how glad I would be to give her a trial!"