The American Lady(44)

Franco . . . perhaps she had bored Ruth and Wanda a little, she reflected, mentioning his name so much.

“Franco says that . . .”

“Franco thinks . . .”

“Only yesterday, Franco was telling me . . .”

In the end she felt quite silly—she couldn’t speak two sentences in a row without mentioning his name! But Ruth and Wanda had been wonderfully patient with her.

The hairdresser was just finishing up when a parcel arrived for Marie, a little box wrapped in dark-blue silk. She shivered with delight when she saw Franco’s name on it. The other two exclaimed as she unwrapped it and took out a diamond tiara.

She read out the message on the card that accompanied the gift. “For the princess of this evening’s ball—in deepest admiration, Franco.” Ruth insisted that Jacques start all over again with Marie’s hair to show off Franco’s present to best advantage.

That evening, while a waiter refilled her glass with champagne, Marie put her hand to her head and stroked her hair unobtrusively. She had never expected to wear a tiara in her life . . .

“No need to worry, you’re wearing so many hairpins it won’t slip out of place,” Ruth whispered, noticing her gesture. She squeezed Marie’s arm. “If only they could see you now in Lauscha!”

A shadow flitted across Marie’s face. Did Ruth really have to remind her of home, tonight of all nights? She changed the subject hastily. “Your friends are all so pleasant and so . . . interested! I would love to know what you told them about me.”

“Only that you’re a famous artist, and that you work in glass,” Ruth said, waving at someone across the room. “The Americans are always interested in anything to do with Europe.”

“I’ve noticed that,” Marie said. “The people I meet down in the Village all seem to think I must know Franz Marc personally. And this evening your friends have asked me about the palace of Versailles and the Botanical Garden in Munich! I may come from Europe, but I’m not an expert on the whole continent!” she said, laughing. “Do they think that Europe’s tiny?”

Ruth raised her eyebrows in reproach. Then she sighed. “What a shame your Franco can’t be here,” she said. “His present certainly shows that he’s very generous. He must be a fine man.”

Marie smiled to herself. That was so typical of Ruth! All at once she wanted to hug her sister.

“Thank you again for such a wonderful party! The flowers everywhere, all the fine food, the music—it’s as though you’d spirited us away to a fairy-tale castle!” Marie waved her hand around in a gesture that encompassed the whole beautifully decorated ballroom.

“Were you really expecting us to host the event in our apartment?” Ruth giggled happily.

Marie shrugged. “How many parties like this do you think I’ve ever been to? I can’t be expected to know how they—” She stopped as Wanda leaned across the table to speak to them both.

“The conductor’s just given me the signal. If you agree, we can have Pandora’s show now.” She tugged excitedly at the ringlets Jacques had put into her hair.

Ruth opened the cover on her jeweled wristwatch. “Ten o’clock—well, she’s right on time at least,” she said, pleased. “I hired a soprano for Steven’s last birthday, and he turned up ten minutes late, can you imagine?”

Marie made a suitably shocked noise, winking slyly at Wanda as she did so.



Pandora had suggested dancing to Smetana’s Vltava, justifying her choice by calling it “an homage to Marie’s European roots.” Ruth had agreed; it was just the sort of romantic, tuneful piece her guests would enjoy. Wanda had breathed a sigh of relief at that. Given that Pandora was deeply committed to expression and feeling in her art, and Ruth was more concerned with the dos and don’ts of high society, she hadn’t expected them to agree on a program so quickly. But now she even thought she detected something like a mutual respect between them. Granted, her mother hadn’t actually gone so far as to seat Pandora at one of the tables in the ballroom, but she had made sure that the dancer was served every course in one of the side rooms. And Pandora seemed truly grateful for the chance to put her finances back on track after the debacle with her landlord, thanks to the very generous fee that Ruth had offered her. For once she hadn’t launched into her usual tirade about the conservative tastes of New York’s upper crust.

“Mother’s very pleased to have you here,” Wanda whispered to her friend. “She thinks that your performance will give the evening a certain Bohemian touch.”