Caroline Wynn deemed it a part of the white world’s education to participate in meetings like this; doing so was not pleasant, but it appealed to her cynicism and mocking sense of pleasure. She always roused hostility as she entered: her gown was too handsome, her gloves too spotless, her air had hauteur enough to be almost impudent in the opinion of most white people. Then gradually her intelligence, her cool wit and self-possession, would conquer and she would go gracefully out leaving a rather bewildered audience behind. She sat today with her dark gold profile toward Zora, and the girl looked and was glad. She was such a woman she would have Bles marry. She was glad, and she choked back the sob that struggled and fought in her throat.
The meeting never got beyond a certain constraint. The Congressman made an excellent speech; there were various sets of figures read by the workers; and Miss Wynn added a touch of spice by several pertinent questions and comments. Then, as the meeting broke up and Mrs. ¬ÝCresswell came forward to speak to Zora, Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool managed to find herself near Miss Wynn and to be introduced. They exchanged a few polite phrases, fencing delicately to test the other‚Äôs wrist and interest. They touched on the weather, and settlement work; but Miss Wynn did not propose to be stranded on the Negro problem.
‚ÄúI suppose the next bit of excitement will be in the inauguration,‚Äù she said to Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool.
‚ÄúI understand it will be unusually elaborate,‚Äù returned Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool, a little surprised at the turn. Then she added pleasantly: ‚ÄúI think I shall see it through, from speech to ball.‚Äù
“Yes, I do usually,” Miss Wynn asserted, adjusting her furs.