Polly and Lois left for Fanny’s
the following Thursday and arrived the day before
the dance. A description of their good time can
best be gotten by reading Polly’s letter to
Betty, which was written a few days after:
“Dearest Betty:
“What a shame
you couldn’t be here. I know it’s
mean to tell you,
but you’ve really
missed the funniest kind of a time.
“I do hope your
mother is much better by now. Please give her
both
Lois’ and my love.
“And now to tell
you all about the dance as I promised.
So many
things happened it’s
hard to know where to begin. The first day I
guess
“Well, we arrived at this adorable
little town about ten o’clock in the morning,
and I thought when I looked out of our window as the
train pulled in, that I was dreaming and it was a story
book village. The sun was shining and it
was as warm as toast. I don’t know
why the fact that the grass was green made such an
impression on me, but it did. We’ve
had so much snow up home that I couldn’t believe
there could be summer anywhere else.
“Is this lengthy description
boring you, Betty dear? What is it Miss
Porter always says, ’Create your atmosphere first,
before you begin your story.’ That’s
what I’m doing and you’ll just have to
be patient while I create a little longer.
I simply must tell you about the funny little
cabins. They’re all over the place.
A relic from the days of slavery, I suppose,
and they’re so little just a room
or two that you gasp when you see large
families standing out in front of them.
It’s beyond me to figure out how they can all
go to sleep at once.
“Lois suggests that they take
turns and I think she must be right. The
little pickaninnies are too sweet for words; they have
innumerable little braids sticking out all over
their heads, and their big black eyes just dance
with impishness. You’d love them.
“Fanny lives in a most wonderful
story book house. It’s red brick that’s
really pink. Oh, you know what I mean! And
it’s trimmed with white. Big colonial
pillars up the front, and a lot of little balconies
jut out where you least expect them. I have one
out of my window, and every night I play Juliet
to an imaginary Romeo in the rose garden below.
Lo insists I am getting sentimental, but it’s
only the effect of the ‘Sunny South,’ which
brings me, no matter how indirectly, to the boys
we’ve met and the dance!
“Oh, Bet, such a lark! There
were over a hundred people both old and
young, and even then the ballroom oh, yes,
the Gerards have a ballroom looked
half empty. We danced from ten o’clock until
four in the morning, and went for a picnic the
next day. Imagine!
“Fanny looked beautiful.
She wore a lovely white dress without a touch
of color on it, and it just set off her wonderful dark
hair to perfection. The cousin, Caroline
Gerard, is here at the house, too. You know,
the one Fanny said could sing, and who ’just
naturally gets ahead of her.’ Well!
Intermission of four minutes.
“No use, I’ve been struggling
with my better self, but I can’t resist
the temptation to tell you just what Lo and I think
of her. Betty, she’s horrid.
I mean it! She’s so conceited and sure of
herself and without the least reason to be.
She looks a lot like Fanny, but with a difference.
She’s larger and much more definite, if
you know what I mean, and she walks into a room with
a ’Well, here I come’ sort of an
air. She completely puts Fanny in the background.
I’ll tell you later, how Lo and I pulled her
out again Fanny I mean but
now, I’ll go back to the dance.
“Caroline was there of course.
She wore a wonderful red gown and carried a big
yellow ostrich fan. She looked like a Spanish
dancer. It took me all evening to get used
to her. The combination was rather startling.
Lo, in spite of her dislike, wanted to paint her.
I did not jealousy, on my part of
course for every time she came near
me, she killed my lovely green frock. You see,
before I came down stairs, I looked in the glass
and I rather fancied that I looked quite nice,
but, I turned pale by comparison, and naturally
I didn’t like it. Are you getting curious
about Lois? I hope so, I’m saving her on
purpose for the end. Betty, she was the
belle of the ball. You can’t, no, not even
with your imagination, picture her. She looked
like some lovely fairy. But you know that
dreamy style of hers. Well, just try and see
her in your mind draped in yards and yards
of pale yellow chiffon, with touches of blue
here and there, and you’ll understand
the effect. Her gown was just nothing but graceful
soft folds. I tell you everybody went quite
mad about her, and you know how beautifully she
dances. Excuse me, that’s the luncheon
gong I’ll finish later.
“Ten P.M.
“Hello, again
Bet:
“It’s late and I’m
oh, so sleepy, but I must go on. Let’s see
where was I? Oh, yes, clothes. But poor
dear you must feel as if you’d been reading
a fashion book, so I’ll skip the rest of the
dresses, which really didn’t amount to anything,
and go on with the dance.
“Of course we met so many people
that I can’t even remember their names,
but some of my dances stand out rather vividly in my
mind. Do you know, Southern boys can say
more pretty things in one minute than our boys
up North can in a whole month. Don’t think
I consider it a virtue, far from it. I think
they’re awfully silly on top.
Of course underneath they’re splendid just
like boys anywhere else but certainly
they are more fun to talk to.
“I danced the first dance with
Fanny’s ‘Jack.’ He’s quite
as handsome as she said and he came to the dance
in his uniform. After the music had stopped
we went out in the rose garden for a walk.
“Betty, what can a girl say,
when a boy tells her she is fit company for roses
and moonlight? If there is a proper answer, I
certainly couldn’t think of it at the time
and I did the very last thing I should have done
I laughed and I went on laughing as he
waxed more eloquent. Finally I said:
“‘Oh, for
pity’s sake, do stop and talk sense.’
He looked as if he
had never heard the
word.
“‘You’re
very hard to please,’ he said in oh, such offended
tones.
‘What shall we
talk about?’
“‘Why not
Fanny,’ I suggested; ’she’s the only
subject we have in
common, except flowers
and birds and moonlight, and we seem to
have exhausted those.’
“‘But I’m very fond
of Fanny!’ he said quite feelingly. I told
him I was too and that we ought to make the best
of it. I explained how popular she was at
school, and how she’d made the team, and raved
at great length over her voice. And do you know
what that boy did? When I stopped for breath
he stood stock still in the middle of the path
and looked at me, then he whistled.
“‘Well,
I’ll be darned.’ It was the first
natural thing I’d heard
him say. ’I
never met a girl before in all my life that would talk
that way about even
her best friend,’ he said.
“The music started
then, and we had to hurry back but, Bet,
what
do you suppose he meant?
“Lois evidently
had much the same trouble understanding her
partners. I heard
her say ’how absurd’ during
supper, and it
sounded so like you
that I was startled for a second.
“Oh dear, I almost forgot to
tell you the funniest thing that happened through
the whole evening. Poor Fanny, being hostess,
had to dance with all the clumsy, unattractive
boys that were there, and every time I saw her,
she seemed to be having a dreadful time of it.
I think it was the eighth dance and I was sitting out
with a boy named Wilfred Grey the
one Caroline cut Fanny out with, you remember?
I was arguing with him about clothes he
said he preferred bright colors, and I insisted
there was nothing as lovely as white. Of
course we both knew he really meant Caroline, and
Fanny. Well anyway, in the middle of the dance we
were in a sort of a little alcove Fanny
came by pulling a big, lanky youth after her.
I never saw anything so funny; he was just walking,
and making no kind of an effort to keep to the
music. Mr. Grey and I laughed about it,
and when they came around again, we were watching
for them. Imagine our joy when they stopped just
beside us, and we heard Fanny say, in that killing
way of hers:
“’Look here, Sam Ramsby,
if you’ll get on my feet and stay there, I’ll
tote you around this room, but this jumping on and
off is more than I can stand.’ Betty,
wasn’t that rare it was the best
minute of the whole evening. Lo is furious
that she missed it.
“Mercy! It’s
twelve o’clock and I must go to bed. Lo
is going to
add a P.S. to-morrow.
Please appreciate this long letter as I’ve
really spent much valuable
time over it.
“Sleepily,
“Polly.”
Lois’ postscript followed.
“Hello, Bet:
“I’ve just read Polly’s
scrawl, and I must really smile. If Caroline’s
dress made hers look pale you may believe it was at
long range, for I never saw Poll the entire evening
that she wasn’t completely surrounded and
hidden from view by a flock of dress suits.
Wait until you see the green dress and you’ll
understand why.
“Polly says she promised to tell
you about Fanny’s triumph and forgot to.
Personally, I’m glad she left me something easy.
I know it will amuse you. It happened the
first night we got here. There were a lot
of Fanny’s friends at dinner and in the evening
we played games and Caroline sang. Poll
has described her, but not her voice. It’s
one of those big throaty ones that quaver, and she
sings the most dramatic of love songs. I
hated it, it was so affected. Well of course,
everybody raved about it and complimented her
and asked for more. They didn’t really want
it, but Caroline has a way of insisting upon
the center of the stage.
“She didn’t stop until
everybody was thoroughly tired of her and of
music generally. Then Polly surprised every one
by saying quite calmly: ‘Fanny I wish
you’d sing for us now.’ Caroline couldn’t
understand. ‘Why, Fanny can’t
sing,’ she said. I don’t think she
meant to, but it was out before she could stop
it. I was cross.
“‘Oh, yes,
she can,’ I told her, ’the girls at school
are crazy
about her voice.
Sing that pretty French song Fanny.’ Poll
joined
in and we teased so
hard that she finally did sing.
“Bet, I do wish you could have
seen those people, they were overcome with astonishment.
They were so used to Caroline talking of nothing
but her voice that they had never thought of Fanny.
But after that first song, I thought they would
never let her stop. There, that’s
the story. Caroline hasn’t been asked to
sing since and Polly and I are mean enough to
be just as pleased as punch. I must stop
this instant. We’ll see you next week at
good old Seddon Hall. In the meantime, loads
of love. I won’t be sorry to get back.
How about you?
“Affectionately,
“Lois.”