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
Mrs. Radigan has not yet learned that when you give theatre-parties in
New York you must spend a week visiting the plays quietly if you are
going to have young girls in the party. Miss Bumpschus is not young,
but she is still classed as a girl, and, moreover, as I have said,
she is puritanical. Of Miss Veal there was no real cause for fear.
She smokes. But Mrs. Radigan informed us that she had chosen this
particular play because she knew by the name that it was something Miss
Bumpschus and her little sister could see. Poor Mrs. Radigan! Poor Miss
Bumpschus! Really it was all harmless enough, but the underlying theme
was not a burned will nor a stolen necklace. The play was more for bald
heads and switches, like most of our up-to-date dramatic exhibitions,
so Miss Bumpschus quickly lapsed into unconsciousness behind her
programme, and Miss Veal looked as though it was all a mystery to her.
"It's just my luck," Mrs. Radigan groaned to me. "Now had she been
Constance Wherry I should not have cared, but Ethel Bumpschus will not
speak to me again. A woman is foolish nowadays who takes a party to see
anything but Shakespeare, Ibsen, or the wax-works."
Rare sense is Mrs. Radigan beginning to show! Gleams of high
intelligence break through occasionally. But I fear she exaggerated the
effect on her younger guests. We did have to arouse Miss Bumpschus from
behind her programme when the curtain went down, and when Willie Lite
asked her if she did not think it was awfully clever, she turned to me
and asked me not to forget the old clothes for the ticket-choppers.
But she braced up at supper, and under the protection of Radigan, he
being a married man, and the enlivening influences of a few glasses of
champagne, she lost all her color again and became very chipper. I, for
the moment, took on the character of a horse-doctor, and entertained
Mrs. Williegilt with my opinions of glanders, while Williegilt basked
in the light of Miss Veal's smiles, and Willie Lite laid the wires to
sell a heavy line of champagne to our hostess. Altogether the evening
was a success, particularly as I read in my paper the next morning
that "Mr. and Mrs. J. John Radigan entertained Mr. and Mrs. Bobbie Q.
Williegilt and several other smart people at dinner, the play, and
supper last evening."
CHAPTER VIII
_The Small Dance at Flurry's_
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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