She always wants to tell people how to do
their hair and put on their clothes.
Miss Elizabeth Talbert is a howling swell; she only just endures it
here. I've heard lots of things about her from Bell Pickering, who
knows the Munroes--Lily Talbert, they call her there. She thinks she's
fond of Art, but she really doesn't know the first thing about it--she
doesn't like anything that isn't expensive and elegant and a la mode.
The only time she ever came to see me she actually PICKED her way
around the house when I was showing it to her--there's no other word to
use--just because there was a glass of jelly on the sofa, and the
painting things were all over the studio with Peter's clothes. I
perfectly hated her that day, yet I do love to look at her, and I can
see how she might be terribly nice if you were any one she thought
worth caring for. There have been times when I've seen a look on her
face, like the clear ethereal light beyond the sunset, that just PULLED
at me. She is very fond of Peggy; I know she would never do anything to
injure Peggy.
Poor little Peggy! When I think of this affair about Harry Goward I
don't believe she ever felt sure of him; that is why she is so worked
up over this matter now. I know there was something that I felt from
the first through all her excitement, something that wasn't quite happy
in her happiness.
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