“Well, at home children of the first families move in the best society, even if they are poor.”
“We don’t belong to the first families.” As Lucy talked she was pulling weeds from among some clumps of jonquils.
“Well, you certainly do, and John has told me that his father is a distinguished clergyman, and his mother is one of the Montgomerys of Virginia.”
“We only know a few people and those slightly,” explained Lucy, still intent on her task. “We don’t go out much and when we do we only go to a theatre or concert with Jim.”
“That’s just it, Lucy! You make no attempt to get out into the world. All these years you’ve done nothing at all. If you’d started at once, by now you would be at least on the outskirts of good society, and as fast as John made more money you could get into more select things. It’s a woman’s duty to advance herself all she can.”
“We none of us care for society, Mamma, even if we could afford it.”
“ ‘We’—who do you mean by ‘we,’ Lucy?”
“Why John and Jim and me, of course,” replied Lucy with some surprise.
“That’s just it, Lucy! It’s Mr. Sprague who doesn’t like to have you go out. John is as fond of society as anyone could be. I’ll tell you candidly, I think you are making a great mistake in letting an outsider—”
Lucy had paused in her weeding.
“I thought we had decided not to discuss Mr. Sprague,” she put in with an approach to irritation.
“Oh, dear me! Now I’ve done it again! I declare, Lucy, you are certainly abnormally sensitive on the subject of Mr. Sprague,” Nannie complained, hastening on to prevent a reply, “but it’s certainly dull never seeing anybody from one day’s end to another. I don’t mean for myself. It makes no difference about me. But for your own sake you ought to go out occasionally, and have a few friends in once in a while.”
Lucy returned to her jonquils.
“I expect it does seem rather quiet to you, Mamma. I’ve gotten so used to it I don’t notice it. We’ll have to take in a theatre some evening this week. I’ll have John get tickets.”
“You needn’t do it on my account, but I really think it would do you good. You are stuck here in the house night and day. Doesn’t anyone besides Mrs. Hamilton ever call on you?”
“Yes. At least a number did call, but I’m not very good at keeping up formal acquaintances, and most of them have stopped. Miss Storms used to come here often, but she’s so busy, and I’ve gotten into the habit of dropping in on her when I go down—”
“Lucy, I should think you’d have at least consideration enough not to mention that woman in my presence!”
“Well, Mamma, we won’t discuss her either then,” responded Lucy quietly.
“Well, of course people will call on me, now that I’m here.”
“I doubt if anybody knows it except those in the next houses, and we only know them by sight.”
“You oughtn’t to let yourself be forgotten like this, Lucy. If you don’t push yourself a little nobody will notice you.”
Lucy straightened up from her work. She was thinking.
“I’ll invite a few women acquaintances out to meet you, Mamma. Maybe you’ll like some of them, and it will give you a chance to get out a little afterwards.”
“I don’t like to think of your going to trouble and expense for me.”
“It won’t be much trouble or expense.”
“You could have a little tea, couldn’t you? You make such darling little cakes and sandwiches.”
“Al right, we’ll do it.”
“Now you’re sure it’s not too much for you, Lucy?”
“Quite sure,” affirmed Lucy, smiling.
“I’m sure it’s very nice of you. I’ll help decorate the table. I must look through my trunks and fix up something to wear.”
Lucy bent over her plants.
John that night approved the plan for the tea.
“You can get some things from the caterer’s,” he suggested.
Lucy, however, counting the money on hand, decided to prepare the refreshments herself. She asked two young girls who lived near to help her serve, and the simple affair was conducted without a hitch.
Nannie’s toilette, made by herself, was the admiration of all, and she referred to her home and friends in Russellville in a way that made several of the ladies wish they might see her in such lovely surroundings.
One of the guests was a Miss Powell, a voluptuous and very smartly dressed brunette. She was evidently impressed with Nannie.
“I suppose you will find it hard to stay long away from Russellville, even to be with your daughter,” remarked the new acquaintance.
“Oh, I hope to stay a little while yet, Miss Powell,” returned Nannie laughing. “It’s been so long since we could arrange it to be together and we are both enjoying it,” she declared, becoming serious.
When the guests had gone, Lucy bravely attacked the huge pile of dishes in the kitchen sink.
“Are there any sandwiches left, Lucy?” Mrs. Merwent inquired, entering the room where Lucy was in the midst of her work.
Lucy indicated a plate which had been set aside with the idea that it might contribute to the morrow’s luncheon.
“We’ve been in such a rush all day that I’ve hardly had time to eat anything,” Nannie explained as she helped herself to the largest sandwich. “I wish you would leave all those things until I get back. I promised to meet John,” she went on as she selected her second sandwich.
“I must finish up and put dinner on,” Lucy informed her mother somewhat irritably.
Mrs. Merwent halted in the kitchen doorway.
“I hope you aren’t displeased because I promised to meet John,” she challenged resentfully.
“Oh, Mamma, please don’t start any argument now!” Lucy exclaimed.
Nannie gave her daughter a reproachful glance and turned away without speaking, even the set of her shoulders as she left the room expressing offended virtue.
She changed her frock and went to meet John’s train as she
