“You’ll call, mother, won’t you? I want you and father to attend the party, and tell me about it,” she said.
There was a sudden movement as of dissent from Mr. Grey, but before he could speak his wife replied:
“I don’t think I shall trouble myself. I was here five years before Mrs. White called upon me, and then she came when I am certain she knew I was out. When I returned it, she was engaged, and she has never been near me since. I shall not call on her or the Lansings.”
“Of course not,” Mr. Grey rejoined, with an asperity of manner unusual with him.
He did not seem himself at all. He had a headache, he said, and, declining the strawberries Louie urged upon him, left the table and went to his room, where his wife found him lying upon the couch, either asleep or pretending to be, for he neither spoke nor moved when she entered the room. He was subject to headaches, and they had increased in frequency within the last few years. This one seemed harder than usual, and it was not till the next day that he went to the bank, before which the White carriage was standing, with two ladies in it, Mrs. Lansing and Blanche Percy, while Judge White was just coming down the steps to join them.
Mr. Grey would rather have passed them unnoticed, but he never forgot to be a gentleman, and in response to the judge’s rather gruff “good morning, Grey,” he answered pleasantly and lifted his hat politely to the two ladies.
“Who is that splendid-looking man?” Blanche asked as the judge entered the carriage.
“That? Oh, that’s Tom Grey, the one-horse banker who has set up business right under my nose; but he can’t run long, you’ll see,” the judge replied, as they drove away, while the one-horse banker looked after them till they were out of sight, with thoughts from which Louie would have shrunk aghast if she could have known them.
CHAPTER III
INVITATIONS FOR THE PARTY
Merivale was one of those quiet New England towns where, compared with larger places, the people seemed more asleep than awake, there was so little to interest or excite them outside the routine of daily life. There were no very poor people, for work of some sort was plenty, and there were no very rich people, except Judge White, whose walk, as he put down his heavy gold-headed cane, indicated money and the self-importance he felt on account of it. There were four churches—Episcopal, Presbyterian, Methodist and Roman Catholic—two banks, a weekly paper, a high school, a book club, a struggling literary society, three dry goods stores, six groceries, and ten saloons, which the W. C. T. U.’s were vainly trying to suppress. Once in two weeks the Presbyterians and Methodists had a sewing society, which few attended, as it closed at five and every one went home to supper. Once a month the Episcopalians had a meeting of the Guild, with supper and a large attendance, especially at supper time, when the young people came in, glad of any break in their rather monotonous lives. For a time Mrs. White was president of the Guild, but when at an annual meeting Mrs. Grey was made vice-president she resigned, giving as a reason that it made her nervous to read the prayers with which the meetings were opened. Mrs. Grey was elected to fill her place, and made a most popular president. Under her jurisdiction, with Louie as coadjutor, entertainments of various kinds were instituted, and the little town put on quite an air of hilarity compared with what it had worn.