Crimson Roses by Grace Livingston Hill

Author:Grace Livingston Hill
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781607428565
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-02T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

To the young man who watched her hasty retreat, she seemed a lovely thing. He noted the delicate profile of her face, the profile with which he had grown familiar in the Academy of Music, watching it to the accompaniment of the world’s great music exquisitely rendered. Somehow she seemed to him to be naturally associated with all things fine and exquisite and lovely.

He noticed, too, with brightening eye, the color of her plain little gown, deep crimson, like the shadows in old-fashioned damask roses, and how it brought out the shell-pink tinting of her cheeks and the clear, straight penciling of lovely brow. To the young man, the shy lifting of her serious eyes had satisfied all his expectations. If what Radnor had said about her coming from a common family had been true, where and how had such a lovely unspoiled spirit come up through the soil and rudeness of this present world? She was so very different from the girls he saw around him.

He turned about and faced Isabel Cresson, in blue and silver, with her long earrings and her ropes of pearl, her gold boy-bob, and her carmine lips and rouged cheeks. Isabel was vivacious and sparkling, cheerful and full of banter, bold and wise and able to take care of herself, like the present day and generation. But oh, what a contrast! The young man’s eyes followed wistfully the girl in the garnet satin and wished she would come back and talk to him.

“Hello, Jeff!” greeted Isabel. “Never see you anymore unless I come to church. You must have got converted over in Europe; you only seem to be on exhibition at a church social. Why don’t you come out to the country club and have a try at things? Got the darlingest floor now, the best dancing anywhere around, and the greatest orchestra! It’s precious! You haven’t heard it yet, have you? And you’ve been home almost a year! What did they do to you over there? Make an old man out of you? Have you forgotten our old friends? What’s that? You’re too busy? Oh, bologna! So’s your old man! Come on out on the links Sunday morning, and let’s play a few holes. Lately I’ve been shooting down the eighties! Not so bad, right? Come and try me, Jeffy! I’d like a chance to even up some of the old scores when you laid me out at tennis. Swing a racket anymore? We just got four more new courts. The turf is peachy. I can play a precious game at that, too. You ought to try me now! And I’ve just got the darlingest new racket. I’m dying to try it on somebody. What do you say? Is it a go Sunday morning? What? You got to go to church? Applesauce! Cut it out for once! Well then, make it six in the morning, and we’ll have coffee at the Club House and get back in plenty of time. Church isn’t till eleven.

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