Lady Betty Across the WaterWilliamson, C. N. (Charles Norris)
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Lady Betty Across the Water
Williamson, C. N. (Charles Norris)
British -- United States -- Fiction; Voyages and travels -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
I don't believe Vic had half so much fun at her first ball as I had at
mine, although hers is so many seasons ago now that I can't remember
what she said about it. I was only a little girl then, and she wasn't
in the habit of telling me things, as she is now.
Although I didn't get to bed till after two, I was up early next
morning, because I had promised my best cadets that I would be at
morning parade, or whatever they call it, to say good-bye. Sally went
with me, and it was quite an affecting parting. I shall never forget
those dear boys if I live to be a hundred, though I can't remember any
of their names, as after all I lost the card I meant to keep always.
VI
ABOUT THE PARK AND LOVE STORIES
All the preparations that Mrs. Ess Kay had to make for Newport kept us
two more days in New York; and it was terribly hot, but I was not sorry
to stay, because we did so many amusing things.
Mr. Doremus was detained too--by his tailor, he said--so we saw a good
deal of him, as Mrs. Van der Windt had left for her Newport cottage. We
did go to a roof garden entertainment, after all, and it was most
fascinating, but quite without the feeling that you might fall off,
which I had expected to have. I saw the moon coming up, and gilding
thousands of roofs, and I couldn't help wondering which was the roof of
that club where poor, handsome Jim Brett was employed; though of course
it was impossible to speak of him to anyone except Vivace.
We lunched one day at an enormous and very fashionable red brick hotel
called the Waldorf-Astoria, and went into a Turkish Room, and had
delicious things to eat in a beautiful restaurant, which had not at all
an out-of-season air, though Mrs. Ess Kay said that most of the
well-groomed looking people whom I suspected of being leaders of the
Four Hundred were only "trippers." I do wonder, by the way, why one
always has an innate sense of contempt for trippers, and longs to be
sniffy and show one's own superiority? We must all be trippers
somewhere and sometimes, or we would never see anything of the world;
indeed I suppose I am by way of being a tripper now. But one never
seems to regard one's self in such a light, or imagine that anybody
else could be so undiscerning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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