CHAPTER IV
ORLEAN
"OH, MAMA," cried Orlean E. McCarthy, coming hastily from the hallway into the room where her mother sat sewing, and handing her a note, "Mr. Baptiste is in the city and wishes to call at the earliest possible convenience."
"Indeed," replied her mother, affecting a serious expression, "this is rather sudden. Have you sent him word when he could?"
"Yes, mama, I wrote him a note and returned it by the boy that brought this one, that he could call at two o'clock." Her mother's gaze sought the clock automatically.
"And it is now past one," she replied. "You will have to get ready to receive him," she advised ceremoniously.
"All right, mama," said Orlean cheerfully, and suddenly bending forward, kissed her mother impulsively upon the cheek, and a moment later hurried upstairs.
"What is this I hear about somebody coming to call," inquired another, coming into the room at that moment. Mrs. McCarthy looked up on recognizing the voice of her younger daughter, Ethel, who now stood before her. She gave a perceptible start as she did so, and swallowed before she replied. In the meantime the other stood, regarding her rather severely, as was her nature.
She was very tall, was Ethel, and because she was so very thin she appeared really taller than she was. She did not resemble her mother, who was a dumpy light brown skinned woman. She was part Indian, and possessed a heavy head of hair which, when let down, fell over her shoulders.
Ethel, on the other hand, was somewhat darker, had a thin face, with hair that was thick, but rather short and bushy. Her eyes were small and dark, out of which she never seemed to look straight at one. They appeared always to be lurking and without any expression, unless it was an expression of dislike. Forsooth, she was a known disagreeable person, ostentatious, pompous, and hard to get along with.