The Rose Garden by Maeve Brennan Read Free Book Online Page B

just by continuing to live there.
    The years passed, and the old hotel changed hands and lost heart and dignity. The big front apartments were cut up into cubicles, the fine, long marble entrance hall grew dingy and was cluttered with soft-drink dispensers and a water cooler. The noble oak desk, discreetly placed at the rear of the lobby, was handed over to a cigarette vendor, who also dealt in razor blades and penny candy, and its functions were transferred to a sort of bathing box of varnished pine, built almost at the mouth of the elevator, in a position that flaunted the new managers’ distrust of their guests.Rundown and shabby though the hotel was, it nevertheless suited Charles very well. And it was very cheap. He never thought of moving.
    Besides, during the past few years Charles had spent nearly as much time away from New York as he had spent in it. He had formed a habit of going every weekend to Leona Harkey’s charming house at Herbert’s Retreat, thirty miles above the city, on the east bank of the Hudson. Charles occupied a unique and privileged position at the Retreat. Leona and her friends regarded him as their infallible authority on the rules of gracious living and on the shadowy and constantly changing dimensions of good taste. They were all a little in awe of him. Leona admitted, laughing, that she was afraid of him—but she adored him, too, she always added quickly, and she did not know how she had ever existed before she met him.
    Lying in bed, waiting for Leona to telephone, Charles smiled. She really was a dear child, although he sometimes wished she could have been a little less wholehearted and a tiny bit more intelligent. Today was the eighth anniversary of their meeting, and they had a delightful celebration planned, for just the two of them.
    At nine o’clock exactly, the phone rang. Charles laughed softly into the mouthpiece.
    â€œIs this the gentleman in the pink-and-white striped shirt?” Leona sang. “Oh, is this the—”
    â€œNot quite yet, my dear,” Charles said. “The pink-and-white striped shirt is still nestling in its birthday tissue in a box on my dressing table, with its five little brother shirts.”
    â€œHe did deliver them, then!” Leona cried. “Oh, Charles, I am so glad. I was so afraid that man would disappoint you. Oh, what a relief.”
    â€œMy shirtmaker has never failed me yet, Leona,” Charles saidcoldly.
    Really, it was a task keeping Leona in check.
    â€œOf course he hasn’t, Charles. He wouldn’t dare, would he, darling? But Charles, I want to tell you about my suit. It’s divine, and almost exactly like yours. It was so sweet of you to let your tailor make it for me. And from your special cloth, too. We’re going to look quite alike today, aren’t we? Almost like twins.”
    â€œAlmost like twins,” Charles echoed generously, because it did promise to be a very pleasant day. “You know, Leona, this is quite an event in my life. I’ve grown very fond of you in the last eight years, my dear.” He giggled gently. “How is the good George, by the way?”
    â€œOh, Charles, you know George. He trundled off an hour ago, just like a good little businessman. He’s probably sitting behind his desk already, telling some wretched creature to bring back the dinette set or be sued, or something. What a job for a man to have.”
    George Harkey, Leona’s husband, was credit manager of one of New York’s larger and less fashionable department stores.
    â€œWell, we all must work,” Charles said briskly, sitting up in bed. “And I should have been at my scribbling an hour ago. We meet at the Plaza, then. At twelve-fifteen. That will leave us ample time to lunch and still get to the theater by curtain time. All right, my dear?”
    â€œTwelve-fifteen,” Leona said. “And Charles, I have a most amusing surprise for