Ambition
Poignancy
Innocence
And Irritation
cannot be housed together for even one Rainy Week without producing drama!
But whether that drama be farce or fury—? Whether he who came to star remains to supe? Who yet shall prove the hero? And who the villain! Who—? Oh, la! It's God's business now!
"All the more reason," affirms my Husband, "why all such details as light and color effects, eatments, drinkments and guest-room reading matter should be attended to with extra conscientiousness."
Already through a somewhat sensational motor collision in the gay October Berkshires we had acquired the tentative Bride and Groom, Paul Brenswick and Victoria Meredith, as ardent and unreasonable a pair of young lovers as ever rose unscathed from a shivered racing car to face, instead of annihilation, a mere casual separation of months until such May-time as Paul himself, returning from Heaven knows what errand in China, should mate with her and meet with us.
And to New York City, of course, one would turn instinctively for the Someone With a Future. At a single round of studio parties in the brief Thanksgiving Holiday we found Claude Kennilworth. Not a moment's dissension occurred between us concerning his absolute fitness for the part. He was beautiful to look at, and not too young, twenty-five perhaps, the approximate age of our tentative Bride and Groom. And he made things with his hands in dough, clay, plaster, anything he could reach very insolently, all the time you were talking to him, modeling the thing he was thinking about, instead!
"Oh, just wait till you see him in bronze?" thrilled all the young Satellites around him.