Mrs. Radigan: Her Biography, with that of Miss Pearl Veal, and the Memoirs of J. Madison MudisonLloyd, Nelson
General
Mrs. Radigan: Her Biography, with that of Miss Pearl Veal, and the Memoirs of J. Madison Mudison
Lloyd, Nelson
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Satire; Social classes -- Fiction; Women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
Save for the two grooms away off in the stern we were alone, Mrs.
Radigan holding the ribbons over four spanking grays and I on the
box-seat at her side. It is a dreadful way to drive. I can never
understand why people who can afford to be free and independent should
subject themselves to the constant scrutiny of these superior servants.
Every word I ventured rattled with hollow inanity on my own ears, to
be wafted back to those bandy-legged cynics and be laughed over by
them in the seclusion of the stable. I heaved a sigh of relief when we
pulled up in the _porte-cochère_ at the Hall and I was in the hands
of those I knew, with Radigan and the Rollers Club fellows just back
from golf, with Miss Veal and--the surprise of all--Miss Angelica Van
Rundoun. Her presence was a shock, but she subsequently cleared herself
by explaining to me privately that her father had become a customer of
Radigan & Co. and had put her up as margins. The last member of the
party I met at dinner. She was Miss Constance Mint Wherry, a product of
the union of the poor branches of the two fabulously wealthy families
whose names she bears. A large woman, weighing well over two hundred
pounds, with an extensive area of neck and shoulders, decorated with
rusty-looking jewels, she was an imposing figure. I was awed, though
she could not have been more gracious. She spoke of Williegilt as
"Bobbie" and told us what she said to him at the horse-show and what
he said to her, which caused Radigan to burst in with the remark
that "Bobbie" was a "lovely fellow--a lovely fel-low," and Mrs.
Radigan ventured demurely that she was going to have him down for a
week-end--she "liked him so much."
Miss Wherry took to me very rapidly. She said that I was so original,
which of course pleased me tremendously, till she spoiled it all by
declaring that "society men" bored her--they were so vapid. I could
not see but what my tie and collar matched those of the Rollers Club
fellows, and the only outward difference I could discern between us was
that when they _did_ talk, they talked very loud, and when they _did
not_ talk, they drank much more than I.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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