She stopped only long enough to push her trunk into the billiard room just off the hall and pick up her suit case, then she went rapidly upstairs to her bedroom which, in its summer covered furnishings, looked very inviting to her tired eyes. Four nights in a sleeper and three extra hours added to the tedium of her journey from the west by a hot-box which had delayed her train’s arrival in Washington, had made her long for home comforts.
Going over to the windows Evelyn drew up the blinds and opening the sashes thrust back the shutters, then, tossing off her hat and coat as she moved about her bedroom, she finally jerked open the suit case and tumbled about its contents until she found the garments she sought. In doing so she unearthed a letter from her mother, and she smiled as her eyes caught the words:
“I am sending the servants to the city on the fifteenth, which gives them a day to open the house and have it aired before you get there. Now be sure and reach Washington on the sixteenth. Your Father will be very angry if——”
The remainder of the sentence was on the opposite sheet, but Evelyn did not trouble to read further; instead her slender fingers made mince-meat of the letter and as the torn pieces fluttered to the floor she sighed involuntarily.
Her mother, with her usual inconsistency, had evidently not troubled to study time-tables in deciding that her daughter could not reach Washington by the 15th, and in her own mind Evelyn wondered if the servants would be dispatched from Chelsea in time to reach there before night. The importance of time figured very little in Mrs. Burnham’s indolent sheltered life; her contention that prompt people wasted a great deal of time was frequently borne out by those who waited in impotent wrath for her to keep her engagements.
Evelyn changed into her dressing gown and then, sometimes colliding against furniture in the darkened house, made her way through her mother’s bedroom and boudoir, her step-father’s suite of rooms and into the library which opened from his bedroom, pulling up window shades and letting in fresh air and sunshine as she went. Back once more in her own room she tested the electric lights and was thankful to find the current turned on; apparently Mrs. Ward, her mother’s housekeeper, had attended to some of the details of moving back into their city house.
Encouraged by her success with the electricity, Evelyn tried the water in the bathroom and finding it running, filled the tub and with the aid of an electric plunger, soon luxuriated in a hot bath. But upon emerging she did not immediately complete her toilet, the comfortable lounge exerted too great an appeal to her weary muscles, and taking a silk quilt from a nearby cedar chest she settled down amid soft pillows and was soon in dreamless slumber.
Some hours later Evelyn awoke. It took her several minutes to recall where she was as she sat up rubbing her sleepy eyes. Her windows faced the west and the afternoon sunshine filled every cranny of the room. Evelyn consulted her watch—fifteen minutes past two. With a bound she was on her feet and a second later was dressing in haste, her actions stimulated by pangs of hunger. She had eaten only a modest breakfast on the train, counting upon a hearty luncheon at home. She paused long enough in her dressing to go to the telephone in the library and call up several friends, only to be told by Central that the telephones she wanted had been disconnected for the summer.
A trifle discouraged Evelyn returned to her bedroom and resumed her dressing more slowly. Whom could she get to go out to tea with her?—Marian Van Ness. Evelyn brightened, but paused on her way to the library; what use to telephone, Marian was probably at the State Department and would not leave there until five o’clock. She could get her to dine with her at the Shoreham, but in the meantime she was exceedingly hungry and to wait until seven o’clock—
Evelyn picked up her hat and then laid it down again as an idea occurred to her. Why not forage about the kitchen for eatables? The idea appealed to her the more she considered it. If the servants did not arrive she could go for Marian, whose apartment house was around the corner, and they could dine together; for the present a cup of tea and a few crackers would stay her appetite.