Drewena led Carrie to her by the hand.
“Beulah,” she said, “I want you to take Carrie under your wing to-night. She may not be in New York long and I want her to have a grand evening. I’ll want her part of the time, when I’m not going the rounds.”
Beulah lifted her sagging, experienced face to Carrie, who stood there, fluttering slightly. Then the dowager graciously held out both her hands.
“I’ll show you the best people, dearie,” she said. “Just hold on to your old auntie’s arm and we’ll see if there isn’t some trade in sheep’s clothing. And by the way,” she added, smiling shrewdly in the sunless room, “is that little bitch, Kate, going to be here? I’ve made a vow to do that one! She can’t fool these old professional eyes—tired though they may be.”
Drewena laughed.
“Yes, Beulah, she’s here. And quite beautiful too, in green. She just got back from Chili—some kind of an electrical engineering project.”
“‘Project,’ my grandmother!—rest her bones.” Beulah sniffed. “Doing the Indians again—what she sees in them is beyond me! But the hussy is interesting.” Beulah swished the bow at her back, spread the wide skirts of her lavender gown and opened a long black ostrich feather fan. Breathing deeply, so that her large bust swelled out, she followed Drewena out of the room, taking Carrie on her arm.
“There she is,” she whispered hoarsely, and the old lady stopped to glance covetously at Kate.
Kate was dressed in a green velvet gown of a deep jade cast. Her necklace was of intercircled loops of jade as was her linked green bracelet. The earrings were slender pendants of the same hue and stone. With this ensemble she was bound to use a cautious make-up—her skin, tanned by the flat sun of the Andes, being almost enough. Only a dark red splash across her lips, as though she had been recklessly eating cherries, seemed a necessary cosmetic. Her black hair was curled bewitchingly, up from the forehead and sides. When she saw Beulah, she beckoned wildly and the green purse which hung from her arm banged against a punchbowl which was near the tiny bar.
“Common!” someone said in a stage whisper, but Kate only laughed and crooked her finger at Beulah again, who strode forward with aggressive, formidable steps, half dragging Carrie.