Lou blushed, and would not answer.
A GIRL OF THE PERIOD
A GIRL OF THE PERIOD
A great deal of feeble sympathy was expressed for the Foljambes when it became known they had lost their money. But regret for that sort of misfortune to one’s neighbors is always tempered when they have previously shone before the world as the dispensers of extravagant hospitality. Thrifty, self-centered people who have been inconspicuous because of their objection to amusing society at the expense of their own purses, are apt, under similar circumstances, to receive much more hearty condolence. The Foljambes, father, mother, sons, and daughters, invitations to whose parties had been scrambled for in New York and Newport, during several seasons past, were now reaping the harvest of over-abundant giving.
It was generally agreed that Mrs. Foljambe, a weak, silly woman with a bee in her bonnet for fashionable life, had quite long enough enjoyed her place in the fierce light that beats upon the throne of American plutocracy. The father, a clever financier, with the one social accomplishment of effacing himself when the strain of recognizing his individuality became too great upon the frequenters of his house, was dismissed with even scanter consideration. The sons—one recently started in business, the other but just out of college—were very little known except to their cronies. The real stars of the Foljambe family, those whose effulgence or eclipse was likely to be of consequence in the social firmament, were the daughters, Lilian and Olive.