If Gay’s club and his friends had determined merely to be polite and not welcome his wife, Trudy had determined that they would not only welcome her but insist upon being helpful to them; as for her former associates––they would be treated to a curt bow. This, however, did not include the Faithfuls. Mary was not to be ignored, nor did Trudy wish to ignore her. All the good that was in Trudy responded to Mary’s goodness. She never tried to be to Mary––no one did more than once. Nor did she 104 try to flatter her. She was truly sorry for Mary’s colourless life, truly grieved that Mary would not consent to shape her eyebrows. But she respected her, and it was to Mary’s house that Mrs. Vondeplosshe repaired shortly after her arrival.
It was quite true that Beatrice Constantine would have developed much as Trudy had were the pampered person compelled to earn her living, and, like Trudy, too, would have married a half portion, bankrupt snob. As Trudy dashed into the Faithful living room, kissing Mary and her mother and shaking a finger at Luke, Mary thought what a splendid imitation she was of Beatrice returning from her honeymoon.
“As pretty as a picture,” Mrs. Faithful declared, quite chirked up by the bridal atmosphere. “How do you do it, Trudy? And why didn’t you write us something besides postals? They always seem like printed handbills to me.”
“Especially mine,” Luke protested. “One of Sing Sing with the line: ‘I am thinking of you.’”
Trudy giggled. “I didn’t have a minute and I bought postals in flocks. Oh, I adore New York! I’m wild to live there. I nearly passed away in New England, but of course we had to stay as long as they would have us.”
She looked at herself in a mirror, conscious of Mary’s amused expression. She wore a painfully bright blue tailored suit––she had made the skirt herself and hunted up a Harlem tailor to do the jacket––round-toed, white leather shoes stitched with bright blue, white silk stockings, an aviatrix cap of blue suéde, and a white fox fur purchased at half price at a fire sale.
“I haven’t any new jewellery except my wedding ring,” she mourned. “I expected Gay’s sister to give me one of her mother’s diamond earrings––I think she might have. They are lovely stones––but she never made a move that way––she’s horrid. As soon as I can afford to be independent I shall cut her, for she did her best to politely ask us to leave.”
“You were there several weeks, weren’t you?” Mary ventured.
“Yes––I grew tame. I learned a lot from her––I was pretty crude in some ways.” Which was true. Trudy was quite as well-bred looking, at first glance, as the Gorgeous Girl. “It is always better to get your experience where the neighbours aren’t watching. I didn’t lose a minute. If I never did an honest day’s work for Steve O’Valley I worked like a steam engine learning how to be a real lady, the sort Gay tried to marry but couldn’t!”