Velvet Shadows by Andre Norton Read Free Book Online Page B

particularly fond of that as if it were a badge of respectability and luxury. And the Lick House certainly paraded the latter.
    Its interior of carved woodwork, velvet, and plush marble floors made its tasteless opulence overpowering. Just as the meal which had been served in our private suite—six courses beginning with oysters and adding every imaginable delicacy in or out of season—had left me feeling there was far too much food in the world.
    Champagne also seemed to be the rule, produced as a matter of course, just as a glass of iced water might be elsewhere. Also, and this had surprised me, both Victorine and I had been served it without question. I scarcely touched my glass. But Victorine and Mrs. Deaves did not follow my example.
    “Your brother, my dear”—Mrs. Deaves held her ever-present embroidery bag on her lap but at this moment made no attempt to open it—“keeps his own carriage here in the city. And there is no reason why we cannot use that to visit some of the shops tomorrow. If there are any additions you wish to make to your wardrobe—”
    Then she had glanced slyly in my direction. I caught her eye boldly. If she thought to daunt me with the implied disparagement of my wardrobe, she failed. I was secure in the knowledge that I made the proper fashionableappearance always expected of one of Madam Ashley’s instructoresses.
    However, a glance around the ladies’ parlor, through which we had been ushered with no little ceremony upon our arrival, had made plain that what was considered correct taste in the East was very lacking compared to that worn in the flamboyant West. Such a wealth of overdresses —sometimes of two contrasting colors on a single gown—fringes, headings, wreathing of flowers and laces, I had never seen displayed before.
    It was the fashion here, Mrs. Deaves had informed us, during one of her instructive monologues on the uses of polite society, for families of wealth not to maintain a town house (though there were some of those, of palace size and design, on such likely sites as Nob Hill) but rather to retain a permanent suite in one of the major hotels, thus escaping the cares of homeowners.
    This custom had begun in the early days of the gold seekers when the majority of arrivals were lone men and lived in boardinghouses. Many gentlemen banded together and established semiprivate places for boarding, presided over by competent and even highly talented cook-housekeepers. So attached had the gentlemen become to this state of affairs that, even after some of them had been provided with families and homes, they still kept up the “boarding” establishments and visited those in the evening to meet friends, talk business, and engage in activities one does not generally discuss openly.
    During our dinner Mrs. Deaves had continued to talk, offering such a constant flow of information that I wondered how she found time to do justice to her food. But I listened closely, to learn we were indeed now faced by a world quite different from all I had known.
    “Yes!” Victorine plumped herself down on one of the plush-covered love seats. “We must see all the shops! But—I forgot—we have no money. How, then, will we be able to buy—?”
    Mrs. Deaves laughed. Her face was flushed. She had dined very well, though she must be tightly laced, sowrinkleless was her boned bodice. During the meal her voice had grown louder, her words a little slurred, her laughter more and more frequent
    “You need not worry. Alain’s credit is very well established. Carrying money is tiresome. You see, they will not accept paper bills, such as one uses in the East. Here you can offer only gold or silver.”
    I was disturbed by that. My purse, safely pinned in my petticoat seam pocket, must then have its contents changed. Sould I seek out a bank to do that, or could I apply to Mr. Cantrell? I disliked being without ready funds. Not that I expected to shop for myself tomorrow, but if an emergency