Storing Up Trouble, стр. 83

“I thought you and the rest of the women were wearing turbans as some sort of fashion statement,” Beatrix said.

Aunt Gladys grinned. “I’m sure the turbans were some sort of statement, although fashionable isn’t what I’d consider them.” She turned her grin on Mamie. “It was delightful, though, how all of you started wearing turbans as well, Mamie, as a way to support me and make Blanche feel better until she rectified her mistake.”

As Mamie returned the grin, Beatrix frowned. “Why did Blanche stop you from answering me when I questioned you about the turbans a few weeks back?”

“She didn’t think Theodosia would be keen to allow her near that disaster Theodosia was sporting on her head if she learned Blanche was notorious for creating disasters of her own.”

“I suppose that does make sense,” Beatrix said, turning front and center again, which had Mamie releasing a huff. “Sorry, Mamie. I moved again.”

“Lucky I wasn’t wielding the hot tong just yet,” Mamie muttered. “But I expect you to sit perfectly still from this point forward because while I’m capable of styling hair, I’ve never styled hair for anyone going to a fancy ball before. If you don’t want to look like one of the performers at the dance hall where I used to work, I suggest you cooperate.”

“Honestly, Mamie,” Aunt Gladys began, “by the snippiness in your tone, I’m getting the distinct impression you’re still put out over not attending the ball tonight.”

Mamie picked up the hot tong, which Beatrix wasn’t certain she should be doing if she was in a put-out frame of mind, and all but attacked Beatrix’s hair with it. “How could I not be put out?” Mamie demanded, before she began counting under her breath, stopping at fifteen to uncurl the piece of hair she’d been working on before moving to another. “I’m sure I would adore attending this ball, and yet, instead of preparing myself for an evening of frivolity, I’ve been recruited to get Beatrix looking shipshape—not that I mind helping you, Beatrix. You’ve been more than delightful to me ever since you arrived at your aunt’s house.”

Beatrix suddenly smelled something burning. “I think it’s been over fifteen seconds.”

“Oh yes,” Mamie said with a wince before she uncurled the piece of hair wrapped around the tong. She winced again as she gave the curl a bit of a fluff. “Don’t think I scorched it too much.”

Beatrix’s eyes widened. “Most people don’t want to hear the word scorched when it comes to their hair.”

“No one will be able to tell. I’ll just tuck the scorched part underneath another curl.”

“That’s hardly reassuring.”

Mamie ignored her and turned to Aunt Gladys. “You could have taken me as your guest this evening instead of Edgar. He attends balls with you often, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded sitting this one out so that I was given a chance to attend. He’s considerate that way.”

“And clearly you feel I’m not considerate.”

“That has crossed my mind a time or two,” Mamie muttered as Aunt Gladys settled herself into a chair, shaking her head.

“It’s because I am considerate that I didn’t invite you to join me,” Aunt Gladys argued. “You’ve only recently abandoned a life that had you working in a dance hall. We’ve barely scratched the service of the etiquette rules that are required for anyone attending a formal affair, which means you’re nowhere near ready to don a ball gown and mingle with society. You’ve much to learn, patience being at the top of that list.”

Mamie set aside the tong. “That’s your advice? To be patient?”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“So says the woman who’s been waiting years for Edgar to figure out there’s nothing wrong with marrying his employer.” Mamie began gathering Beatrix’s curls on the top of her head. “If you ask me, your patience with him might not amount to anything if he never comes around to admitting he holds you in a great deal of affection.”

Aunt Gladys leaned forward. “You believe Edgar holds me in affection?”

“The man has worked for you for over thirty years,” Mamie shot back. “And in case you’ve neglected to realize, you’re not always that pleasant to be around. You’re very set in your ways, you’re bossy, and, well, I could go on and on, but I don’t want to annoy you overly much since I do appreciate you giving me a home to live in, which does speak well of your generous nature.”

“My generous yet unpleasant and bossy nature,” Aunt Gladys muttered, earning a grin from Mamie.

“Exactly, but my point was that, because you’re rather flawed, Edgar obviously must hold you in great affection. Otherwise, why would he have stayed with you all these years?”

“I pay him a more-than-generous salary.”

“Which could be one reason he stayed,” Mamie admitted, “but I imagine it’s because he cares for you.”

“An encouraging thought to be sure, but enough about Edgar and me.” Aunt Gladys nodded to the gown Beatrix was going to wear that night. “May I assume you’ve chosen Worth to wear for a reason other than it’s a spectacular gown and you’re certain to look enchanting in it? Perhaps as a form of armor against all the tongues that will certainly be wagging about you this evening?”

Beatrix smiled. “All the gowns I brought with me are from Worth. They’d only recently arrived from Paris before Mother sent me packing. I wasn’t certain what to expect with you in Chicago, but thought I might as well bring a few of my new gowns just in case I had need of them.”

“Bet you never considered that I’d send you out to work once you got here.”

“Never entered my head, but I don’t believe I’ve thanked you nearly enough for suggesting I take on a position. I certainly have a new appreciation for the working woman and the daily trials she faces. I’m also certain that appreciation will assist me greatly as I go forward with my work with the suffrage movement.”

Aunt Gladys nodded. “There’s much work to