CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When Selina, after the manner of her Ponce de Leon, returned fruitless from her quest, not of the golden fountain of youth, but of the golden fleece of independence, the cotillion long planned by Mrs. Harrison for Amanthus was just over, but the reception by the Carters to introduce Adele to their friends was yet to be. Maud had accused Selina of being absorbed by her own affairs and her own altered point of view. As chance or purpose, as the case may be, was to have it, Selina was to become absorbed for a time in the respective points of view of her four friends.
"I have accepted the Carter invitations for your aunt and your father and myself," said her mother the morning after Selina's return, as pleased as could be about it. "Your aunt's black velvet is always distinguished and elegant; no one would imagine it was bought for your father's and my wedding. At that time I said—you remember that I did, Ann Eliza—'why do you get velvet and black at that? You're still a handsome girl.' And your reply was, Ann Eliza—do you remember it?—'I'll live up to it, never fear, Lavinia, I won't be a girl forever!'"
Mamma went on happily: "I've looked over my mauve grenadine, and by cutting the tails off the basque and buying new gloves, it will do. And speaking of buying reminds me, you must have underwear with some wool in it, coming up this way from almost the tropics."
"And maybe a little wool in her stockings, Lavinia, don't you think?" added Auntie anxiously, "though we're having wonderfully mild and protracted autumn weather for the first day of November, to be sure."
"Now that I think about it," amended Mrs. Wistar, "we can't put heavy underwear on her until after this Carter affair. You will recall my regrets for you at once, of course, Selina. I'm glad we made you that one unqualified evening dress."
"And cape," from Auntie.
By a seemingly tacit consent everyone was very nice about Selina's humiliating return.