"Oh, your mother wasn't as bad as all that," said Presbury, who never
lost an opportunity.
Mrs. Presbury, seated beside her daughter in the cab, gave an
exclamation of rage. "My own daughter insulting me!" she said.
"Such a thought did not enter my head," protested Mildred. "I wasn't
thinking of anyone in particular."
"Let's not quarrel now," said Presbury, with unprecedented amiability.
"We must give Bill a spectacle of the happy family."
The cab entered the porte-cochere of a huge palace of white stone just
off Fifth Avenue. The house was even grander than they had
anticipated. The wrought-iron fence around it had cost a small
fortune; the house itself, without reference to its contents, a large
fortune. The massive outer doors were opened by two lackeys in
cherry-colored silk and velvet livery; a butler, looking like an
English gentleman, was waiting to receive them at the top of a short
flight of marble steps between the outer and the inner entrance doors.
As Mildred ascended, she happened to note the sculpturing over the
inner entrance--a reclining nude figure of a woman, Cupids with
garlands and hymeneal torches hovering about her.
Mildred had been in many pretentious houses in and near New York, but
this far surpassed the grandest of them. Everything was brand new,
seemed to have been only that moment placed, and was of the
costliest--statuary, carpets, armor, carved seats of stone and wood,
marble staircase rising majestically, tapestries, pictures,
drawing-room furniture. The hall was vast, but the drawing-room was
vaster. Empty, one would have said that it could not possibly be
furnished. Yet it was not only full, but crowded-chairs and sofas,
hassocks and tete-a-tetes, cabinets, tables, pictures, statues, busts,
palms, flowers, a mighty fireplace in which, behind enormous and costly
andirons, crackled enormous and costly logs. There was danger in
moving about; one could not be sure of not upsetting something, and one
felt that the least damage that could be done there would be an
appallingly expensive matter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account