It was suicidal to one's standing with a laundress to advocate the doctrines of unfluted linen, contrary to the opinion of Mrs. Sanderson. Even the non-emotional Wing Lee replied to my entreaty "to handle less roughly Marjorie's frocks": "High tone lady she muchey likey my washey! my starchey!" I felt the propriety of the rebuke when Mrs. Sanderson at that moment sauntered past my door.
Having established her position, even in the estimation of the domestics and Celestials, it is not surprising that at the end of two weeks she was widely known in the district of San Gabriel. Devoutly feared by the usual social barometers of the hotel, adored by all on whom she smiled, and hated by the unfortunate few ostracized from her favor, she seemed the sun of the San Gabriel social system, compelling Sidney and every one about her to reflect modestly the capricious beams she magnanimously bestowed. In the meantime, a marvelous change had taken place in the bare apartments that, up to the present time, had not been distinguished as the choice of a popular leader. The rooms were no longer suggestive of the fluctuating tourist, but suddenly became rich in abiding personality and comfort.
It was observable that the obsequious housekeeper had rifled other apartments, and that couches and easy chairs had materialized with a due conformity to the prolific climate.
The formerly obtrusive white walls soon grew companionable, as pictures, draperies, Japanese plaques, and characteristic Indian baskets sprouted upon them each night. In all directions were strewn evidences of travel and refinement.
In the bepillowed alcove a dainty tea table invited the five o'clock teabibbers of the circle elect, while a piano and stringed instruments allured the musical, and always the young.
More noticeable, however, than all else in the rooms was the display of attractive photographs, indicating for the Sandersons a large and distinguished acquaintance of beautiful women.
"Sid's sweethearts!" the mother said playfully, to the girls who questioned her about the rival beauties, and when a pert miss bravely intimated that young Sanderson must be "a kind of a Blue Beard," the lady good-naturedly replied: "Oh, yes, Sid is terribly fickle. Most of the dear ones have been beheaded long ago, and now the naughty boy is only in love with his mother."
At the same time, we noticed that the face of one beautiful girl was repeated many times in the collection, and inferred that this particular beauty still found favor.
The son was noncommittal. He submitted indifferently to the attentions of the various young women who thronged his mother's rooms, yet more often appeared bored than entertained.
Had I met Sidney away from his clever relative, I am certain I would never have honored him with my acquaintance; but from the first his mother compelled me, as well as her entire circle of friends, to accept the young man at her estimate. Sidney Sanderson was undoubtedly a striking development of his type; but foolish indulgence, a naturally indolent and unsympathetic disposition—together with certain disreputable vices, had made him totally unworthy of the consideration he received. About his full, blond physique there was a blasé indifference which unfortunately very often fascinates young girls. Yet, without his mother, the young man would have found it difficult to retain social approbation. Deprived of her shielding expedients, his dissipations would have become notorious, his gentlemanly pretensions questioned.