The Price She Paid [23]
prince. You know how to do things right.''
``I flatter myself I do,'' said the general. ``I've been up and down the world, and I tell you most of the kings live cheap beside me. And when I get a wife worth showing of, I'll do still better. I've got wonderful creative ability. There isn't anything I can't and won't buy.''
Presbury noted uneasily how cold and straight, how obviously repelled and repelling the girl was as she yielded her fingers to Siddall at the leave-taking. He and her mother covered the silence and ice with hot and voluble sycophantry. They might have spared themselves the exertion. To Siddall Mildred was at her most fascinating when she was thus ``the lady and the queen.'' The final impression she made upon him was the most favorable of all.
In the cab Mrs. Presbury talked out of the fullness of an overflowing heart. ``What a remarkable man the general is!'' said she. ``You've only to look at him to realize that you're in the presence of a really superior person. And what tact he has!--and how generous he is!--and how beautifully he entertains! So much dignity--so much simplicity--so much--''
``Fiddlesticks!'' interrupted Presbury. ``Your daughter isn't a damn fool, Mrs. Presbury.''
Mildred gave a short, dry laugh.
Up flared her mother. ``I mean every word I said!'' cried she. ``If I hadn't admired and appreciated him, I'd certainly not have acted as I did. _I_ couldn't stoop to such hypocrisy.''
``Fiddlesticks!'' sneered Presbury. ``Bill Siddall is a horror. His house is a horror. His dinner was a horror. These loathsome rich people! They're ruining the world--as they always have. They're making it impossible for anyone to get good service or good food or good furniture or good clothing or good anything. They don't know good things, and they pay exorbitant prices for showy trash, for crude vulgar luxury. They corrupt taste. They make everyone round them or near them sycophants and cheats. They substitute money for intelligence and discrimination. They degrade every fine thing in life. Civilization is built up by brains and hard work, and along come the rich and rot and ruin it!''
Mildred and her mother were listening in astonishment. Said the mother:
``I'd be ashamed to confess myself such a hypocrite.''
``And I, madam, would be ashamed to be such a hypocrite without taking a bath of confession afterward,'' retorted Presbury.
``At least you might have waited until Mildred wasn't in hearing,'' snapped she.
``I shall marry him if I can,'' said Mildred.
``And blissfully happy you'll be,'' said Presbury. ``Women, ladies--true ladies, like you and your mother--have no sensibilities. All you ask is luxury. If Bill Siddall were a thousand times worse than he is, his money would buy him almost any refined, delicate lady anywhere in Christendom.''
Mrs. Presbury laughed angrily. ``YOU, talking like this--you of all men. Is there anything YOU wouldn't stoop to for money?''
``Do you think I laid myself open to that charge by marrying you?'' said Presbury, made cheerful despite his savage indigestion by the opportunity for effective insult she had given him and he had promptly seized. ``I am far too gallant to agree with you. But I'm also too gallant to contradict a lady. By the way, you must be careful in dealing with Siddall. Rich people like to be fawned on, but not to be slobbered on. You went entirely too far.''
Mrs. Presbury, whom indigestion had rendered stupid, could think of no reply. So she burst into tears. ``And my own daughter sitting silent while that man insults her mother!'' she sobbed.
Mildred sat stiff and cold.
``It'll be a week before I recover from that dinner,'' Presbury went on sourly. ``What a dinner! What a villainous mess! These vulgar, showy rich! That champagne! He said it cost him six dollars a bottle, and no doubt it did. I doubt if it ever saw France. The dealers rarely waste genuine wine on such cattle. The wine-cellars of fine houses the world through are the laughing-stock of connoisseurs--like
``I flatter myself I do,'' said the general. ``I've been up and down the world, and I tell you most of the kings live cheap beside me. And when I get a wife worth showing of, I'll do still better. I've got wonderful creative ability. There isn't anything I can't and won't buy.''
Presbury noted uneasily how cold and straight, how obviously repelled and repelling the girl was as she yielded her fingers to Siddall at the leave-taking. He and her mother covered the silence and ice with hot and voluble sycophantry. They might have spared themselves the exertion. To Siddall Mildred was at her most fascinating when she was thus ``the lady and the queen.'' The final impression she made upon him was the most favorable of all.
In the cab Mrs. Presbury talked out of the fullness of an overflowing heart. ``What a remarkable man the general is!'' said she. ``You've only to look at him to realize that you're in the presence of a really superior person. And what tact he has!--and how generous he is!--and how beautifully he entertains! So much dignity--so much simplicity--so much--''
``Fiddlesticks!'' interrupted Presbury. ``Your daughter isn't a damn fool, Mrs. Presbury.''
Mildred gave a short, dry laugh.
Up flared her mother. ``I mean every word I said!'' cried she. ``If I hadn't admired and appreciated him, I'd certainly not have acted as I did. _I_ couldn't stoop to such hypocrisy.''
``Fiddlesticks!'' sneered Presbury. ``Bill Siddall is a horror. His house is a horror. His dinner was a horror. These loathsome rich people! They're ruining the world--as they always have. They're making it impossible for anyone to get good service or good food or good furniture or good clothing or good anything. They don't know good things, and they pay exorbitant prices for showy trash, for crude vulgar luxury. They corrupt taste. They make everyone round them or near them sycophants and cheats. They substitute money for intelligence and discrimination. They degrade every fine thing in life. Civilization is built up by brains and hard work, and along come the rich and rot and ruin it!''
Mildred and her mother were listening in astonishment. Said the mother:
``I'd be ashamed to confess myself such a hypocrite.''
``And I, madam, would be ashamed to be such a hypocrite without taking a bath of confession afterward,'' retorted Presbury.
``At least you might have waited until Mildred wasn't in hearing,'' snapped she.
``I shall marry him if I can,'' said Mildred.
``And blissfully happy you'll be,'' said Presbury. ``Women, ladies--true ladies, like you and your mother--have no sensibilities. All you ask is luxury. If Bill Siddall were a thousand times worse than he is, his money would buy him almost any refined, delicate lady anywhere in Christendom.''
Mrs. Presbury laughed angrily. ``YOU, talking like this--you of all men. Is there anything YOU wouldn't stoop to for money?''
``Do you think I laid myself open to that charge by marrying you?'' said Presbury, made cheerful despite his savage indigestion by the opportunity for effective insult she had given him and he had promptly seized. ``I am far too gallant to agree with you. But I'm also too gallant to contradict a lady. By the way, you must be careful in dealing with Siddall. Rich people like to be fawned on, but not to be slobbered on. You went entirely too far.''
Mrs. Presbury, whom indigestion had rendered stupid, could think of no reply. So she burst into tears. ``And my own daughter sitting silent while that man insults her mother!'' she sobbed.
Mildred sat stiff and cold.
``It'll be a week before I recover from that dinner,'' Presbury went on sourly. ``What a dinner! What a villainous mess! These vulgar, showy rich! That champagne! He said it cost him six dollars a bottle, and no doubt it did. I doubt if it ever saw France. The dealers rarely waste genuine wine on such cattle. The wine-cellars of fine houses the world through are the laughing-stock of connoisseurs--like