She heard a light movement. For whom could the drawing-room have been opened today? Mrs. Carteret’s friends were escorted directly upstairs by Topper. Curiosity overcame her and she tiptoed to the door and looked through the crack. Then her heart gave a leap. A girl was standing in the middle of the room wrinkling her nose. Gita forgot that she hated everybody and remembered the unfailing kindness of her friends in California. She had not loved any of them and was too self-centered for intimacies, but they had given her what little tolerance of life she had ever known.
This girl looked rather jolly. She wore a very smart tailored suit that gave her the proper geometrical outline, and the prevailing hat of a shape once identified only with sport. Her face looked out triumphantly from its austere setting, for it was a really beautiful face, with its flower-like eyes and regular features. The bright fair hair was shingled and a cigarette projected from a mouth like pink coral. There was a touch of orange in the costume and Gita noted vagrantly that it clashed with the lips.
Gita hoped she was not married. It was as impossible to tell a young married woman from a girl as a smart déclassée from a woman of fashion, and Gita was not interested in babies and housekeeping. But a girl!
However, there was but one way to find out.
She entered the cold drawing-room and held out her hand with a smile.
“I am Gita Carteret,” she said. “I hope you have come to see me.”
The other girl removed her cigarette and shook hands heartily.
“Have I? Rather. I’m Polly Pleyden, and as you’ve rescued me from melancholia I’m that much more glad to see you. Was just thinking of laying myself out to see what it would feel like.”
Gita’s eyes sparkled with appreciation. “Isn’t it—just? And we can’t talk in a mausoleum. Come up to my room.”
“Good! I’ve been walking about to keep myself from freezing to death. Topping old house, though. Not many of them left. Most of the old houses about here were built of wood and have vanished long since. Luckily for me the rats monopolized our old barn before I was born and granny moved out to Chelsea. Not much tradition there but plenty of light and modern furniture. Glory! Do you sleep in that?”