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Read Ebook: In Her Own Right by Scott John Reed Underwood Clarence F Illustrator
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Ebook has 2402 lines and 55386 words, and 49 pages
"What fits her for assuming universal knowledge?" asked Croyden.
"Heaven only knows! She went away to some preparatory school, and finished off with another that teaches pedagogy. Straightway she became an adept in the art of instruction, though, when she tried it, she had the whole academy by the ears in two weeks, and the faculty asked her to resign. Next, she got some one to take her to Europe--spent six weeks in looking at a lot of the famous paintings, with the aid of a guide book and a catalogue, and came home prepared to lecture on Art--and, what's more, she has the effrontery to do it--for the benefit of Charity, she takes four-fifths of the proceeds, and Charity gets the balance.
"Why do you tolerate her?" Croyden asked. "Why don't you throw her out of society, metaphorically speaking."
"We can't: she belongs--which is final with us, you know. Moreover, she has imposed on some, with her assumption of superiority, and they kowtow to her in a way that is positively disgusting."
"Why don't you, and the rest who dislike her, snub her?"
"Then, why not do the next best thing--have fun with her?"
"We do--but even that grows monotonous, with such a mountain of Egotism--she will stay for the Bridge this evening, see if she doesn't--and never imagine she's not wanted." Then she laughed: "I think if she does I'll give her to you!"
"Very good!" said he. "I'd rather enjoy it. If she is any more cantankerous than some of the women at the Heights, she'll be an interesting study. Yes, I'll be glad to play a rubber with her."
"If you start, you'll play the entire evening with her--we don't change partners, here."
"Then the greater the sacrifice I'm making, the greater the credit I should receive."
"It depends--on how you acquit yourself," she said gayly. "There are the others, now--come along."
There were six of them. Miss Tilghman, Miss Lashiel and Miss Tayloe, Mr. Dangerfield, Mr. Leigh, and Mr. Byrd. They all had heard of Croyden's arrival, in Hampton, and greeted him as they would one of themselves. And it impressed him, as possibly nothing else could have done--for it was distinctly new to him, after the manners of chilliness and aloofness which were the ways of Northumberland.
"We are going to play Bridge, Miss Erskine, will you stay and join us?" asked Miss Carrington.
"I shall be charmed! charmed!" was the answer. "This is an ideal evening for Bridge, don't you think so, Mr. Croyden?"
"And who is to play with me, dear Davila?" Miss Erskine inquired.
"I'm going to put Mr. Croyden with you."
"How nice of you! But I warn you, Mr. Croyden, I am a very exacting partner. I may find fault with you, if you violate rules--just draw your attention to it, you know, so you will not let it occur again. I cannot abide blunders, Mr. Croyden--there is no excuse for them, except stupidity, and stupidity should put one out of the game."
"I'll try to do my very best," said Croyden humbly.
"I do not doubt that you will," she replied easily, her manner plainly implying further that she would soon see how much that "best" was.
As they went in to the drawing-room, where the tables were arranged, Miss Erskine leading, with a feeling of divine right and an appearance of a Teddy bear, Byrd leaned over to Croyden and said:
"She's the limit!"
"No!" said Leigh, "she's past the limit; she's the sublimated It!"
"I think I understand!" Croyden laughed. "Before you came, she tackled me on Art, and, when I confessed to only the commercial side, and an intention to sell the Stuart and Peale, which, it seems, are at Clarendon, the pitying contempt was almost too much for me."
"My Lord! why weren't we here!" exclaimed Byrd.
"She's coming out to inspect my 'treasures,' on Thursday morning."
"Self invited?"
"I rather think so."
"And you?"
"I shall turn her over to Moses, and decamp before she gets there."
"Gentlemen, we are waiting!" came Miss Erskine's voice.
"Oh, Lord! the old dragoon!" said Leigh. "I trust I'm not at her table."
And he was not--Miss Tilghman and Dangerfield were designated.
"Come over and help to keep me straight," Croyden whispered to Miss Carrington.
She shook her head at him with a roguish smile.
"You'll find your partner amply able to keep you straight," she answered.
The game began. Miss Tilghman won the cut and made it a Royal Spade.
"They no longer play Royal Spades in New York," said Miss Erskine.
The latter shut her thick lips tightly, an instant.
"Oh, well, I suppose we must be provincial a little longer," she said, sarcastically. "Of course, you do not still play Royal Spades in Northumberland, Mr. Croyden."
"Yes, indeed! Play anything to keep the game moving," Croyden answered.
A moment later, Miss Tilghman, through anger, also committed a revoke, which her play on the succeeding trick disclosed.
That it was a game for pure pleasure, without stakes, made no difference to Miss Erskine. Technically it was a revoke, and she was within her rights when she exclaimed it.
"Three tricks!" she said exultantly, "and you cannot make game this hand."
"I'm very sorry, partner," Miss Tilghman apologized.
"It's entirely excusable under the circumstances," said Dangerfield, with deliberate accent. "You may do it again!"
"How courteous Mr. Dangerfield is," Miss Erskine smiled. "To my mind, nothing excuses a revoke except sudden blindness."
"And you would claim it even then, I suppose?" Dangerfield retorted.
"I said, sudden blindness was the only excuse, Mr. Dangerfield. Had you observed my language more closely, you doubtless would have understood.--It is your lead, partner."
Dangerfield, with a wink at Croyden, subsided, and the hand was finished, as was the next, when Croyden was dummy, without further jangling. But midway in the succeeding hand, Miss Erskine began.
"I'm very sorry; I'll try to remember in future," said Croyden with affected contrition.
But, at the end of the hand, he was in disgrace again.
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