Carmella Commands
The qualitative note had entered Carmella’s study of America on the screen. She felt a new sense of discrimination. Every butler on the screen must measure up to or beyond the Barrington butler.
Every dining room was appraised in terms of the Barrington dining room.
Every host and hostess of the silver sheet was, in her mind, a competitor with Mr. and Mrs. Barrington.
Every chauffeur, too, was good or bad as he was above or below the form of Dixon.
Carmella had a feeling that in some way Dixon was not quite all that a chauffeur to the rich should be. Possibly he was too young, or possibly he was too companionable. She studied screen chauffeurs with particular intensity.
Where she detected false notes on the screen Carmella openly scoffed, to the annoyance of those in neighboring seats and the bewilderment of Nicolo.
“Where’d you get that stuff?” he asked gruffly, in the course of the afternoon’s bill.
“Huh! Anybody knows that the butler serves the cocktails, not the cheap second maid,” answered Carmella calmly. “And he uses a silver tray, not one of the enamel things.”
“Where’d you get all that stuff?” he repeated.
“Aw, ask me! That stuff is lying around for anybody to get,” she said. “You never saw a butler serve cocktails without he had a silver tray, did you?”
“Sure not, duchess!” said Nicolo mockingly. “And
[136]
