The Rich Mrs. Burgoyne
Page 9
CHAPTER IX
Barry was the last guest to reach Holly Hall on the evening of Mrs.Burgoyne's first dinner-party, and came in to find the great painterwho was her guest the centre of a laughing and talking group in thelong drawing-room. Mrs. Apostleman, with an open book of reproductionsfrom Whistler on her broad, brocade lap, had the armchair next to theguest of honor, and Barry's quick look for his hostess discovered heron a low hassock at the painter's knee, looking very young and fresh,in her white frock, with a LaMarque rose at her belt and another in herdark hair. She greeted him very gravely, almost timidly, and in the newself-consciousness that had suddenly come to them both it was withdifficulty that even the commonplace words of greeting wereaccomplished, and it was with evident relief that she turned from himto ask her guests to come into the dining-room.
Warm daylight was still pouring into the drawing-room at seven o'clock,and in the pleasant dining-room, too, there was no other light. Thewindows here were wide open, and garden scents drifted in from therecently watered flower-beds. The long table, simply set, wasornamented only by low bowls of the lovely San Rafael roses.
Guided and stimulated by the hostess, the conversation ran in a gay,unbroken stream, for the painter liked to talk, and Santa Palomaenjoyed him. But under it all the women guests were aware of an almostresentful amazement at the simplicity of the dinner. When, after nineo'clock, the ladies went into the drawing-room and settled about asnapping wood fire, Mrs. Lloyd could not resist whispering to Mrs.Apostleman, "For a COMPANY dinner!" Mrs. Adams was entirely absorbed indeciding just what position she would take when Mrs. White alluded tothe affair the next day; but Mrs. White had come primed for specialbusiness this evening, and she took immediate advantage of the absenceof the men to speak to Mrs. Burgoyne.
"As president of our little club," said she, when they were all seated,"I am authorized to ask you if I may put your name up for membership,Mrs. Burgoyne. We are all members here, and in this quiet place ourmeetings are a real pleasure, and I hope an education as well."
"Oh, really--!" Mrs. Burgoyne began, but the other went on serenely:
"I brought one of our yearly programs, we have just got them out, andI'm going to leave it with you. I think Mr. White left it here on thetable. Yes; here it is. You see," she opened a dainty little book andflattened it with a white, jeweled hand, "our work is all laid out, upto the president's breakfast in March. I go out then, and a week laterwe inaugurate the new president. Let me just run over this for you, forI KNOW it will interest you. Now here, Tuesdays. Tuesday is our regularmeeting day. We have a program, music, and books suggested for theweek, reports, business, and one good paper--the topics vary; here's'Old Thanksgiving Customs,' in November, then a debate, 'What isFriendship,' then 'Christmas Spirit,' and then our regular ChristmasTree and Jinks. Once a month, on Tuesday, we have some really finespeaker from the city, and we often have fine singers, and so on. Thenwe have a monthly reception for our visitors, and a supper; usually wejust have tea and bread-and-butter after the meetings. Then, firstMonday, Directors' Meeting; that doesn't matter. Every other Wednesdaythe Literary Section meets, they are doing wonderful work; Miss Fosterhas that; she makes it very interesting. 'What English Literature Owesto Meredith,' 'Rossetti, the Man,'--you see I'm just skimming, to giveyou some idea. Then the Dramatic Section, every other Thursday; theygive a play once a year; that's great fun! 'Ibsen--Did he UnderstandWomen?' 'Please Explain--Mr. Shaw?'--Mrs. Moore makes that veryamusing. Then alternate Thursdays the Civic and Political Section--"
"Ah! What does that do?" said Mrs. Burgoyne.
"Why," said Mrs. White hesitating, "I haven't been--however, I thinkthey took up the sanitation of the schools; Miss Jewett, fromSacramento, read a splendid paper about it. There's a committee to lookinto that, and then last year that section planted a hundred trees. Andthen there's parliamentary drill."
"Which we all need," said Mrs. Adams, and there was laughter.
"Then there's the Art Department once a month," resumed Mrs. White,"Founders' Day, Old-Timers' Day, and, in February, we think JudgeLindsey may address us--"
"Oh, are you doing any juvenile-court work?" said the hostess.
"We wanted his suggestions about it," Mrs. White said. "We feel that ifwe COULD get some of the ladies interested--! Then here's the Frenchclass once a week; German, Spanish, and the bridge club on Fridays."
"Gracious! You use your clubhouse," said Mrs. Burgoyne.
"Nearly every day. So come on Tuesday," said the president winningly,"and be our guest. A Miss Carroll is to sing, and Professor Noyesmith,of Berkeley, will read a paper on: 'The City Beautiful.' Keep thatyear-book; I butchered it, running through it so fast."
"Well, just now," Mrs. Burgoyne began a little hesitatingly, "I'mrather busy. I am at the Mail office while the girls are in school, youknow, and we have laid out an enormous lot of gardening for afternoons.They never tire of gardening if I'm with them, but, of course, nochildren will do that sort of thing alone; and it's doing them both somuch good that I don't want to stop it. Then they study German andItalian with me, and on Saturday have a cooking lesson. You see, mytime is pretty full."
"But a good governess would take every bit of that off your hands, medear," said Mrs. Apostleman.
"Oh, but I love to do it!" protested Mrs. Burgoyne with her wide-eyed,childish look. "You can't really buy for them what you can do yourself,do you think so? And now the other children are beginning to come in,and it's such fun! But that isn't all. I have editorial work to do,besides the Mail, you know. I manage the 'Answers to Mothers' column ina little eastern magazine. I daresay you've never seen it; it is quiteunpretentious, but it has a large circulation. And these mothers writeme, some of them factory-workers, or mothers of child-workers even, orlonely women on some isolated ranch; you've no idea how interesting itis! Of course they don't know who I am, but we become good friends,just the same. I have the best reference books about babies andsickness, and I give them the best advice I can. Sometimes it's a boy'stext-book that is wanted, or a second-hand crib, or some dear oldmother to get into a home, and they are so self-respecting about it,and so afraid they aren't paying fair--I love that work! But, ofcourse, it takes time. Then I've been hunting up a music-teacher forthe girls. I can't teach them that--"
"I meant to speak to you of that," Mrs. White said. "There's a MonsieurPosti, Emil Posti, he studied with Leschetizky, you know, who comes upfrom San Francisco every other week, and we all take from him. Inbetween times--"
"Oh, but I've engaged a nice little Miss Davids from Old Paloma," saidMrs. Burgoyne.
"From Old Paloma!" echoed three women together. And Mrs. Apostlemanadded heavily, "Never heard of her!"
"I got a good little Swedish sewing-woman over there," the hostessexplained, "and she told me of this girl. She's a sweet girl; nomother, and a little sister to bring up. She was quite pleased."
"But, good heavens! What does she know? What's her method?" demandedMrs. White in puzzled disapproval.
"She has a pretty touch," Mrs. Burgoyne said mildly, "and she'sbristling with ambition and ideas. She's not a genius, perhaps; but,then, neither is either of the girls. I just want them to play fortheir own pleasure, read accompaniments; something of that sort. Don'tyou know how popular the girl who can play college songs always is at ahouse-party?"
"Well, really--" Mrs. White began, almost annoyed; but she broke hersentence off abruptly, and Mrs. Apostleman filled the pause.
"Whatever made ye go over there for a dress-maker?" she demanded. "Wenever think of going there. There's a very good woman here, in the BankBuilding--"
"Madame Sorrel," supplemented Mrs. Adams.
"She's fearfully independent," Mrs. Lloyd contributed; "but she's good.She made your pink, didn't she, Sue? Wayne said she did."
Mrs. Adams turned pink herself; the others laughed suddenly.
"Oh, you naughty girl!" Mrs. White said. "Did you tell Wayne you gotthat frock in Santa Paloma?"
"What Wayne doesn't
know won't hurt him," said his wife. "Sh! Here theycome!" And the conversation terminated abruptly, with much laughter.
Mrs. Burgoyne's dinner-party dispersed shortly after ten o'clock, somuch earlier than was the custom in Santa Paloma that none of theordered motor-cars were in waiting. The guests walked home together,absorbed in an animated conversation; for the gentlemen, who weredelighted to be getting home early, delighted with a dinner that, asWayne Adams remarked, "really stood for something to eat, not justthings passed to you, or put down in dabs before you," and delightedwith the pleasant informality of sitting down in daylight, wereenthusiastic in their praise of Mrs. Burgoyne. The ladies differed withthem.
"She knows how to do things," said Parker Lloyd. "Old Von Praag himselfsaid that she was a famous dinner-giver."
"I don't know what you'd say, Wayne," said Mrs. Adams patiently, "if_I_ asked people to sit down to the dinner we had to-night! Of coursewe haven't eight millions, but I would be ashamed to serve a cocktail,a soup--I frankly admit it was delicious--steaks, plain lettuce salad,and fruit. I don't count coffee and cheese. No wines, no entrees; Ithink it was decidedly QUEER."
"I wish some of you others would try it," said Willard Whiteunexpectedly. "I never get dinners like that, except at the club, downin town. The cocktail was a rare sherry, the steaks were broiled to aturn, and the salad dressing was a wonder. She had her cheese just ripeenough, and samovar coffee to wind up with--what more do you want? Iserve wine myself, but champagne keeps you thirsty all night, and otherwines put me to sleep. I don't miss wine! I call it a bang-up dinner,don't you, Parker?"
Parker Lloyd, with his wife on his arm, felt discretion his part.
"Well," he said innocently selecting the one argument most distastefulto the ladies, "it was a man's dinner, Will. It was just what a manlikes, served the way he likes it. But if the girls like flummery andfuss, I don't see why they shouldn't have it."
"Really!" said Mrs. White with a laugh that showed a trace of somethingnot hilarious, "really, you are all too absurd! We are a long way fromthe authorities here, but I think we will find out pretty soon thatsimple dinners have become the fad in Washington, or Paris, and thatyour marvelous Mrs. Burgoyne is simply following the fashion like allthe rest of us."