* An almost transparent material first made in Gaza,
Palestine, from which it derived its name.
Without intent Katherine’s association with her father and mother greatly added to the impression she made. The squire was handsomely attired in a fashionable suit of dark blue broadcloth, trimmed with large gilt buttons, a white satin vest, and a neck piece of soft mull and English lace. And not less becoming to Katherine as a set off was her mother’s plain, dark, emphatic costume. Yes, even the rather showy extravagance of the aunt as a background was an advantage, and could hardly have been better considered, for Madam Temple on this occasion had discarded her usual black garments and wore a purple velvet dress and all her wonderful diamonds. Consistent with this luxury, her laces were of old Venice point de rose, arranged back and front in a Vandyke collar with cuffs of the same lace, high as the elbows, giving a cachet to her whole attire, which did not seem to be out of place on a woman so erect and so dignified that she never touched the back of a chair, and with a temper so buoyant, so high-spirited, and so invincible.
When dinner was served, Katherine noticed that neither De Burg nor Harry Bradley were at the table and after the meal she questioned her sister with some feeling about this omission. “I do not mind De Burg’s absence,” she said, “he is as well away as not, but poor Harry, what has he done!”
“Harry is all right, Kitty, but we have to care for father’s feelings first of all and you know he has no desire to break bread with Harry Bradley. Why! he considers ‘by bread and salt’ almost a sacred obligation, and if he eats with Harry, he must give him his hand, his good will, and his help, when the occasion asks for it. Father would have felt it hard to forgive me if I had forced such an obligation on him.”
“And De Burg? Is he also beyond the bread and salt limit?”
“I believe father might think so, but that is not the reason in his case. He sent an excuse for dinner but promised to join the dancers at ten o’clock and to bring his cousin Agatha with him.”
“How interesting! We shall all be on the qui-vive for her début.”
“Don’t be foolish, Kitty. And do not speak French, until you can speak it with a proper accent.”
“I have no doubt it is good enough for her.”
“As for her début, it occurred six or seven years ago. Agatha had the run of society when you were in short frocks. Come, let us go to the ballroom. Your father is sure to be prompt.”