She paused for breath. Then she drew a long sigh. “Oh dear,” she lamented, “I’d give anything if I had a decent shape! I’d like to wear those shimmering, flowing, transparent summer things over silk tights. But, mercy me! I’d look like a potato busted wide open. Now you can wear those X-ray dresses all right––
“Say, Kathleen Ames has a new French gown to wear to the Dog Show. Skirt slit clear to the knee, with diamond garter around the leg just below. How I’d look! I have a leg like a ham!”
Carmen heard little of this vapid talk, as she sat studying the pale woman across the hall. She had resolved to meet her just as soon as the loquacious Mrs. Gannette should seek another victim. But that genial old gossip gave no present evidence of a desire to change.
“I’m so glad you’re going to marry young Altern,” she said, again swerving the course of her conversation. “He’s got a fine old ruined castle somewhere in England, and seems to have wads of money, though I hear that everything is mortgaged to Ames. I wouldn’t be surprised. Still, his bare title is worth something to an American girl. Besides, you’ve got money. And you’ll do a lot for his family. You know––but don’t breathe a word of this!––his mother never was recognized socially in England, and she finally had to give up the fight. For a while Ames backed her, but it wouldn’t do. His millions couldn’t buy her the court entrée, and she just had to quit. That’s why she’s over here now. The old Duke––he was lots older than she––died a couple of years ago. Ran through everything and drank himself to death. Before and since that happy event the Duchess did everything under the heavens to get a bid to court. She gave millions to charity and to entertainments. She sacrificed everything. But, no sir! It wouldn’t do. She had no royal blood. But with you it will be different. You’re a princess, royal Inca, and such like. You qualify right from the jump. So you see what you’re expected to do for the Altern crowd––
“Dear! dear!” catching her breath and switching quickly to another theme, “have you heard about the Hairton scandal? It’s simply rich! You see, young Sidney Ames––”
Carmen’s patience had touched its limit. “Don’t, please don’t!” she begged, holding out a hand. “I do not wish to hear it!”
Mrs. Gannette raised her lorgnette and looked at the girl. “Why, my dear! what’s the matter? The scandal’s about Ames’s son, you know. The reason he doesn’t go in society. Just come to light. You see––”
“My dear Mrs. Gannette,” Carmen looked up at her with a beseeching smile. “You wouldn’t deliberately give me poison to drink, would you?”
“Why, certainly not!” blustered that garrulous lady in astonishment.