“Please, you must promise.” The gay voice had grown coldly resolute. “Something is due to us, you know.”
There was cause to regret those words as soon as they were uttered. For their effect was to stiffen Mame’s feathers.
“We’ll leave that to him, I guess.” There was resentment in the answer.
Considerable strength of will was needed for Violet to withhold the remark that Bill was a perfect fool. But she was able to fight down the raging tempest. “I am going to telegraph for my mother to come up at once. And in the name of our friendship I ask you to keep the engagement a close secret until—until you have seen her.”
Mame was inclined to resent the tone. But lurking somewhere in her crude yet complex mind was that rather unfeminine sense, fair play. She could not quite forget, after all, how much she owed to Violet. In the circumstances she had a right to demand this of her.
“Well, honey, I’ll do what you say,” drawled Mame with light drollery. “But I can’t answer for that l’i’l bird.”
Lady Violet’s eyes sparkled rather grimly, but she managed to keep her voice under control. “No, you can’t, of course.” By a mighty effort she got back on to the plane she was determined to occupy. “But if you can persuade him to hold his tongue for a day or two you’ll be helping everybody—yourself not least of all.”
The depth of the argument was a point beyond Mame. She could not pretend to be versed in the ways of the hothouse world she was about to enter. But evidently her friend had powerful reasons. Even if she was cutting up pretty rough there would be no harm in humouring her. Nay, it would be wise. Besides, as Mame’s conscience was careful to insist, it was right to make this concession. No need to stand too much on dignity, particularly as she had a real regard for Violet and so must do nothing to embitter their relations.
“I’ll do all I can anyway to keep it a secret until I’ve seen your Mommer,” said Mame generously.