The other day Dana and I went into one of the big cafes in the
city to treat ourselves to a taste of the entertainment with
which the people of wealth regale themselves. We had wandered in
laughingly jesting about what we should order, and ran into
Eileen in the company of her aunt and uncle and a very flashy and
loudly dressed young man, evidently a new suitor of Eileen's. I
don't think Eileen wanted to introduce us, and yet she acted like
a person ravenous for news of her home and friends. She did
introduce us, and immediately her ponderous uncle took possession
of us. It seems that the man is a brother of Eileen's mother.
Linda, he is big and gross, he is everything that a man of nice
perceptions would not be, but he does love Eileen. He is trying
conscientiously to please her. His wife is the kind of person
who would marry that kind of man and think everything he said and
did was right. And the suitor, my dear, was the kind of man who
could endure that kind of people. Eileen was almost, if not
quite, the loveliest thing I ever have seen. She was plain; she
was simple; but it was the costly simplicity of extravagance. Ye
gods! but she had pearls of the size she had always wanted. She
tried with all her might to be herself, but she knows me well
enough to know what I would think and what I would write to you
concerning the conditions under which I met her. We were simply
forced to lunch with them. We could only nibble at the too rich,
too highly seasoned food set before us.
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