So farewell, Katy, we're due to burst into high society tonight.
We're going to help Eileen vamp a lawyer, and an author, and an
architect, one apiece. Which do you prefer, Marian?"
"I'll take the architect," said Marian. "We should have
something in common since I am going to be a great architect
myself one of these days."
"Why, that is too bad," said Linda. "I'll have to rearrange the
table if you insist, because I took him, and left you the author,
and it was for love of you I did it. I truly wanted him myself,
all the time."
They stopped in the dining room and Marian praised Linda's work
in laying the table; and then, together they entered the living
room.
At the moment of their entrance, Eileen was talking animatedly
about the beauties of the valley as a location for a happy home.
When she saw the two girls she paused, the color swiftly faded
from her face, and Linda, who was watching to see what would
happen, noticed the effort she made at self-control, but she was
very sure that their guests did not.
It never occurred to Linda that anyone would consider good looks
in connection with her overgrown, rawboned frame and lean face,
but she was accustomed to seeing people admire Marian, for Marian
was a perfectly modeled woman with peach bloom cheeks, deep, dark
eyes, her face framed in a waving mass of hair whose whiteness
dated from the day that the brakes of her car failed and she
plunged down the mountain with her father beside her, and her
mother and Doctor and Mrs.
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