The combination was startling, vivid, amazingly artistic, and Dan stood lost in admiration. If Tamea could only have managed a smile that predicated happiness rather than sadness, Dan told himself she would have been ravishingly beautiful.
“You’re tremendous! Perfectly tremendous!” he assured Tamea. “But that stunning dress——”
“I took the liberty of telephoning Miss Morrison,” Mrs. Pippy gurgled. “I sent Graves over after some things of hers I thought might fit Miss Larrieau.”
“I am extremely grateful to you, Mrs. Pippy.” In the back of his head the words of Sooey Wan were ringing: “Missie Pip velly sorry no can understand at first. No ketchum pearl.” Whatever the reason behind her present cordiality, she was making a strenuous effort to overcome the unfortunate impression she had made upon Tamea a half-hour previous.
Sooey Wan appeared in the dining room entrance and beamed cordially upon the guest. “What Sooey Wan tell you, boss? Velly nice, eh? You bet. Dinner leady.”
Dan silenced the wretch with a furious glance, took Tamea by the arm and steered her into the dining room. Sooey Wan retreated, but paused at the entrance to the butler’s pantry and grinned his approval before disappearing into the kitchen to pass out two plates of soup for Julia to serve. Mrs. Pippy disappeared.
Having tucked Tamea’s chair in under her, Dan took his place opposite. Tamea looked around the dining room with frank approval. She appeared a trifle subdued by the somber richness of it, the vague shadows cast by the warm pale pink glow of the four candles in four old silver candlesticks, the dark bowl, flower-laden, in the center of the table.
Dan was aware that she was watching him; not until he had selected his soup spoon from among—to Tamea—a bewildering array of silverware, did she imitate his action. Her host instantly realized that the niceties of hospitality would have to be dispensed with for the sake of Tamea’s education; consequently, when Julia entered with some toasted crackers and approached Tamea with the intention of serving her first, Dan caught Julia’s eye and directed her to his side.
“You will serve me first,” he whispered and helped himself. Tamea did likewise.
“Now, her French father taught her to break her crackers into her soup and partake of the soup without regard to the resultant melody. I will see if she is a victim of habit,” he decided.