I shall call her Miss Eidelweis because she is so cold, so beautiful
and so hard to get.
Miss Eidelweis is one of your real aristocrats. The blood in her veins
is steely blue. The antiquity of her name is only antedated by Lilith
and you know, my dear, Lilith was not what one would call a nice young
lady.
There is really so little to her personally that she has taken on a
heavy hauteur which makes her only more beautiful but which denies
absolutely that she is a maiden of any particular consequence. If she
really knew the whole truth about her redoubtable family and if she
knew just how adroit these etymologists can be, she would be desolated
to discover that her family was quite as base as any other family and
that what really makes an emperor of earth is very red blood and not
blue blood at all.
Of course, she is dressed beautifully and her hair is coifed with
amazing care and most becomingly. But there is something about her,
something undefinable, you may say, which makes the men stay away.
What is it? Their own vanity! To most men real vanity in a woman is
quite unthinkable. Man’s vanity is the only thing that is allowable in
this universe, according to man. Among the women she is quite popular
because they know, they know.
“What do they know?” the imp within you asks.
They know men, old sox; they know their men and they also know that
beauty and blood have nothing to do with the case whatsoever. They may
help out but they are useless.
Women are quite wonderful, aren’t they? I could not possibly think of
living in a world bereft of them.