Carmella Commands
form their League and defy the established order? Was the world such a medley of monotonous motives?
But there were so many ways of “smiling down,” as Carmella had called it. How, in particular, had she offended Carmella’s mother? Or the other women who no longer came to the sewing class?
She hadn’t done it! She knew she hadn’t. Her work was as altruistic as, for example, her friendship for Mrs. Whitman Russell, wife of the president of the Central Trust Company, on whose invitation she was here in Hope House.
And yet—Carmella had been positive. A most positive youngster! With remarkable eyes and a remarkable smile. And—bless Mrs. Barrington’s highly pedigreed soul for admitting it—Carmella had spoken as one having authority.
How much authority of knowledge had she? Mrs. Barrington wondered. Her wondering continued as she left Hope House and entered her waiting car to be driven from the old east end slowly through the business district to the newer west side.
“Dixon,” she suddenly asked of the chauffeur, “did anybody ever ‘smile down’ at you?”
“I beg pardon, ma’am?” said Dixon.
Mrs. Barrington repeated the question, whereupon Dixon drove in silence for some moments, pondering. At last he answered.
“If I know what you mean, ma’am, yes!”
“Who?”’
[26]
