The Debtor | Page 3

home," whispered Mrs. Van Dorn, "We can make
another call before the two hours are up." Mr. Rawdy was hired by the
hour.
"Yes, we can," assented Mrs. Lee.
Then they waited, and neither spoke. Mrs. Lee had occasion to sneeze,
but she pinched her nose energetically and repressed it.
Suddenly both straightened themselves and held their cards in
readiness.
"How does my bonnet look?" whispered Mrs. Lee.
Mrs. Van Dorn paid no attention, for then the door was opened and Mrs.
Morris's maid appeared, with cap awry and her white apron over a

blue-checked gingham which was plainly in evidence at the sides.
The ladies gave her their cards, and followed her into the best parlor,
which was commonly designated in Banbridge as the reception-room.
The best parlor was furnished with a sort of luxurious severity. There
were a few pieces of staid old furniture of a much earlier period than
the others, but they were rather in the background in the gloomy
corners, and the new pieces were thrust firmly forward into greater
evidence.
Mrs. Van Dorn sat down on the corner of a fine velvet divan, and Mrs.
Lee near her on the edge of a gold chair. Then they waited, while the
maid retired with their cards. "It's a pretty room, isn't it?" whispered
Mrs. Lee, looking about.
"Beautiful."
"She kept a few pieces of the old furniture that she had in her old house
when this new one was built, didn't she?"
"Yes. I suppose she didn't feel as if she could buy all new."
The ladies studied all the furnishings of the room, keeping their faces in
readiness to assume their calling expression at an instant's notice when
the hostess should appear.
"Did she have those vases on the mantel-shelf in the old house?"
whispered Mrs. Lee, after a while; but Mrs. Van Dorn made a warning
gesture, and instantly both ladies straightened themselves and looked
pleasantly expectant, and Mrs. Morris appeared.
She was a short and florid woman, and her face was flushed a deep rose;
beads of perspiration glistened on her forehead, her black hair clung to
it in wet strands. In her expression polite greeting and irritation and
intense discomfort struggled for mastery. She had been house-cleaning
when the door-bell rang, and had hastened into her black skirt and
black-and-white silk blouse. The blouse was buttoned wrong, and it did
not meet the skirt in the back; and she had quite overlooked her

neckgear, but of that she was pleasantly unconscious, also of the fact
that there was a large black smooch beside her nose, giving her both a
rakish and a sinister air.
"I am so glad to find you in," said Mrs. Van Dorn.
"I was telling Mrs. Van Dorn that I was so afraid you would be out, it is
such a lovely day," said Mrs. Lee.
"I am so glad I was in," responded Mrs. Morris, with effusion. "I
should have been so disappointed to miss your call."
Then the ladies seated themselves, and the conversation went on.
Overhead the maid could be heard heavily tramping. The carpet of that
room was up, and the mistress and maid had planned to replace it
before night; but the mistress held fast to her effusive air of welcome. It
had never been fashionable or even allowable not to be at home when
one was at home in Banbridge. When Banbridge ladies went abroad
calling, in the coach, much was exacted. Mrs. Morris could never have
held up her social head again had she fibbed, or bidden the maid
fib--that is, if it had been discovered.
"How lovely your house is, Mrs. Morris!" said Mrs. Van Dorn, affably.
The Morris house was only a year old, and had not yet been nearly
exhausted as a topic of polite conversation.
"Thank you," said Mrs. Morris. "Of course there are things about the
furnishings, but one cannot do everything in a minute."
"Now, my dear Mrs. Morris," said Mrs. Lee, "I think everything is
sweet." Mrs. Lee said sweet with an effect as if she stamped hard to
emphasize it. She made it long and extremely sibilant. Mrs. Lee always
said sweet after that fashion.
"Oh, of course you would rather have all your furniture new, than part
new and part old," said Mrs. Van Dorn; "but, as you say, you can't do
everything at once."

Mrs. Van Dorn was inclined at times to be pugnaciously truthful, when
she heard any one else lie. Her hostess looked uneasily at an old red
velvet sofa in a dark corner, which was not so dark that a worn place
along the front edge did not seem to glare at her. Nobody by any
chance sat on that sofa and looked at the resplendent new one. They
always