AC dBooks

Although I had been brought up in such a different world altogether I
could not help being carried away by all this beauty. My senses
burgeoned out and my heart seemed to expand.
As for Alma and my husband, they seemed to belong to the scene of
themselves. She would sit at one of the tea-tables, swishing away the
buzzing flies with a little whip of cord and cowries, and making
comments on the crowd in soft undertones which he alone seemed to catch.
Her vivid and searching eyes, with their constant suggestion of
laughter, seemed to be picking out absurdities on every side and finding
nearly everybody funny.
She found me funny also. My innocence and my convent-bred ideas were a
constant subject of jest with her.
"What does our dear little Margaret Mary think of that?" she would say
with a significant smile, at sights that seemed to me quite harmless.
After a while I began to have a feeling of indefinable uneasiness about
Alma. She was daily redoubling her cordiality, always calling me her
"dearest sweetest girl," and "the oldest friend she had in the world.


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