Her Infinite Variety by Louis Auchincloss, Louis S. Auchincloss Read Free Book Online Page A

that had started in 1933, and now she began to wonder if, thanks to her peculiar vantage point, she was not seeing deeper into its essentially American nature than the radical left. It was not, as she made it out, that the poor were seeking, as in communist revolts, to bring down the rich and seize their wealth. It was more that they wanted the rich to move over; they wanted to be rich themselves.
    The Republican congressman from the Manhattan district where she lived, for example, was being challenged by a young liberal journalist who was the grandson of an Irish political judge who had made but then lost a fortune. Clara liked everything she read about Rory O'Connor, who, like herself, seemed to want everything in the world, from liberal rags to newspaper riches.
    It was the always unexpectedly useful Polly who brought her together with this much-discussed Democratic candidate.
    "Mrs. Byrd's giving a cocktail do this evening, and he's supposed to stop by for a few minutes to talk to me. It's not a party for him, but we're doing a piece on him, and it was the only time he had. He'll be late—they always are—and with few people left, when I'm through with him, you'll have your chance."
    It worked out as Polly had said. By half past seven when O'Connor at last made his appearance, Mrs. Byrd's living room was almost empty, and the hostess herself had gone on to a dinner party. Clara, lingering, had plenty of time to observe the object of her curiosity as he was being interviewed in a corner by Polly.
    She could see at once that his eyes were his great point; they were large, dark and deeply set—and surprisingly gentle. Surprisingly, because his short, tight, muscular torso, his high brow and square chin, his closely cropped black curly hair, seemed to betoken a masculinity that bordered on the aggressive. And indeed the silent stare with which he greeted her when Polly, concluding her own business, signaled Clara to come over, was hardly encouraging.
    Taking the seat that Polly now vacated to get him a drink, Clara murmured a conventional compliment about his "vigorous and inspiring" campaign.
    "Would you care to make a contribution, Mrs. Hoyt?" was his rather flat rejoinder.
    "Yes, of course, but I'm afraid it will have to be a very small one. My husband holds the purse strings, and he's of a different political persuasion."
    "I'm aware of that. One doesn't go into politics in this district without knowing about the Hoyts and the Bank of Commerce. We must wait until you're a widow, Mrs. Hoyt, before we can expect your largesse, and that, presumably, will not be before November."
    Clara didn't mind his rudeness at all. A bland acceptance of bad manners might be the first step in getting around such a man. "Is money the only way one can help in a campaign? Can't one stamp letters or ring doorbells?"
    "But those things aren't jobs for a lady like you."
    "What makes you so sure that I'm a lady like me?"
    "Why it sticks out all over you! Not that it's hard to look at, I'll grant you that. But I'm supposing you're one of those rich society gals who's had everything tossed in her lap without even having to ask for it. And now you're bored. You're smart enough to be bored. I'll grant you that, too. So you start peering over the back yard fence to see what sort of animals are playing out there."
    "Isn't that rather brave talk for one of your own privileged background, Mr. O'Connor? I seem to remember someone pointing out to me, on a weekend in East Hampton, a big vulgar villa that had once belonged to a political judge of your name."
    Ah,
that
was the note! He smiled, almost sheepishly. "So you've tracked me down! Yes, that was Grandpa. But we're still not far from the Irish bogs. He came over from County Cork, aged seventeen, with two gold pieces in his pocket and put one in the plate on his first Sunday in New York. And then went on to make a fortune—let's not inquire too closely just how. He also lost it, for he