Americo brought Miss Bland and her friend out to the loggia, which was
the living-room of the family in warm, sunny weather. He announced the
two names with elaborate unintelligibility, but Idina at once introduced
her companion as Miss Jewett of St. Louis. "We met when I was in
America," she explained. "Now she's 'doing' Europe in a few weeks,
cramming in enough sightseeing for an Englishman's year."
"We're very flattered to be included among the sights," Marie said,
smiling, but with something of the "princess" air which--perhaps
unconsciously--she always put on with her husband's cousin. Miss Jewett,
making some polite and formal little answer, gazed with glittering
intentness at her hostess and Mary Grant. Her eyes, in the thin, sallow
face with its pointed chin, were so brilliantly intelligent that they
seemed to have a life and individuality of their own, separate from the
rest of her small body.
"Where's Angelo?" asked Idina, when they had talked for a little while,
and she had apologized for being too early.
"Oh, I'm so sorry he isn't at home!" Marie exclaimed, enjoying the blank
disappointment that dulled Idina's expression. When she had produced her
effect, she added that Angelo would come back in time for luncheon. Miss
Bland turned her face away and looked down at a fountain on the terrace
below the loggia. Fierceness flashed out of her like a knife unsheathed;
but the back of her blond head, with its conventional dressing of the
hair under a neat toque, was almost singularly non-committal.
Pages:
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467