"And there we sat," she told her mother later, "all the morning, like a
couple of fools, waiting for the car. It got to be lunch-time, and still
it hadn’t showed up. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her, waiting
there with her hat on and all. ‘I guess she’s decided to keep her
automobile for herself to-day,’ I said. ‘It isn’t hers,’ she said. ‘It’s
Mr. Eddie’s, for us both to use.’ He’s a generous feller, I think."
The excursion was given up. They had lunch down-stairs together, and in
the afternoon they went out for a little walk--a tiresome walk for them
both. Polly said scarcely a word. Angelica believed her to be angry, and
at five o’clock, when at length the motor came back, with Mrs. Russell
in it, she looked forward to a row.
She received another lesson, for Polly said nothing. She had tea in the
library with her mother-in-law, and she was as agreeable and polite as
if nothing at all had occurred to vex her.
At first this conduct appeared to Angelica cowardly and shockingly
hypocritical; but as she watched Polly, she changed her opinion. No, it
wasn’t hypocrisy; she didn’t pretend to be pleased and friendly. Her
attitude said to Mrs. Russell, in effect:
"Do as you please. You can’t annoy me. I remain absolutely undisturbed."
And as Angelica observed them, first to see how tea was to be drunk, and
later to ponder, a new idea struggled to life in her mind. It began to
dawn upon her that there were grades among ladies, and varieties. Mrs.
Russell was a lady, and Mrs. Geraldine was a lady; but they were of
quite different sorts, and Polly’s sort was the better.
So there wasn’t simply a set of rules to follow, or a definite standard
to attain. There wasn’t even one absolutely correct manner. How was one
to learn? How was one to imitate?
"My Gawd!" she reflected. "There’s more to this than I thought!"