Gilded Needles (Valancourt 20th Century Classics) by Michael McDowell Read Free Book Online

New York, stumbling into strange houses and offering proposals of marriage to three hundred-pound widows.”
    “No,” stammered Benjamin, “I was not. We ran into one another near Madison Square. We were both on our way here. I’ve had very little today. Champagne gives me a sick headache, and hot wine makes me dizzy.” He sat nervously in a chair that was apart from the others, and turned his face away, complaining of the heat in the room.
    “I’m glad you abstained, Benjamin,” said his sister kindly.
    After Duncan had briefly described his afternoon and warmed himself by the fire, as host he invited the family into the dining room to toast the New Year with champagne. This was their usual ceremony and without being asked, Helen hurried out to fetch little Edwin and Edith who were to be allowed to press the rim of an empty glass against their lips.
    Edwin Phair was four years old and his sister Edith three. They had been allowed in the drawing room for an hour during the time that their mother was receiving. Dressed very much alike in new blue frocks that showed off the piercing blue Stallworth eyes, both had sat primly on an ottoman before the fire, impressed into silence and immobility by their mother’s threats of irrevocable banishment to the nursery if they either spoke or raised a finger out of turn. Edwin, who had a distressing propensity to acrobatics, marvelous in themselves but unbecoming to one who was an heir in the Stallworth family, had been hard put to remain still so long, and once returned to the nursery he had promptly executed half a dozen flips over his sister’s head in relief.
    When Helen returned, the two handsome children having rushed in a little ahead of her, all the family was gathered around the table and Duncan Phair was pouring out champagne into a set of eight glasses. Each solemnly took a glass and raised it. The two children raised theirs high, and had they been full, would have spilled out every drop.
    “May we prosper in eighty-two,” said Duncan.
    “Prosperity,” nodded James Stallworth, “and confusion to the Democrats.” He beckoned to his grandson Edwin, and tousled his thick hair in gruff affection.
    “Continued favor in the sight of God,” said Edward Stallworth, with eyes closed briefly.
    “May we prove ourselves worthy of the blessings already bestowed upon us,” said Helen.
    Benjamin grinned doltishly as he raised his glass higher, but said nothing.
    “To the Stallworths,” concluded Marian.
    They drank, only Helen not finishing hers. She placed her glass upon the table, leaned down and took those of Edwin and Edith as well. All the others held their glasses out for replenishment.
    “Helen,” said Duncan Phair, “please take the children upstairs again. You may wish to stay with them for a while.” His tone of voice made her agree, though with some apprehensive puzzlement, that she might do just that.
    Helen gathered the children, speaking to them softly and unintelligibly, and ushered them out of the room. As she cast a troubled backward glance at her brother he turned uneasily away.
    For the next few moments Duncan Phair was occupied in pouring out more champagne.
    “Benjamin was precise,” he said smiling, as he handed his father-in-law a glass. “I met him at the southwestern corner of Madison Square, just where Broadway crosses Fifth Avenue, is that not correct, Benjamin?” Now that Benjamin’s sister was out of the room, a definite sharpness entered Duncan’s voice.
    Benjamin had moved skulking to the doors into the parlor, but he paused now to nod sullenly to Duncan’s question.
    “Don’t go away,” said his grandfather, but there was no kindness in his voice. “Drink your champagne with us, Benjamin. You don’t seem to have overdone it today.”
    “No,” said Duncan Phair, “he didn’t. How many houses did you visit today, Benjamin?”
    “I’m not certain,” stammered Benjamin.
    “Three?” said Duncan icily. “As many as