Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool was further surprised. Did colored people attend the ball?
“We sorely need a national ballroom,” she said. “Isn’t the census building wretched?”
“I do not know,” smiled Miss Wynn.
‚ÄúOh, I thought you said‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù
“I meant our ball.”
‚ÄúOh!‚Äù said Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool in turn. ‚ÄúOh!‚Äù Here a thought came. Of course, the colored people had their own ball; she remembered having heard about it. Why not send Zora? She plunged in:
‚ÄúMiss Wynn, I have a maid‚ÅÝ‚Äîsuch an intelligent girl; I do wish she could attend your ball‚ÅÝ‚Äî‚Äù seeing her blunder, she paused. Miss Wynn was coolly buttoning her glove.
“Yes,” she acknowledged politely, “few of us can afford maids, and therefore we do not usually arrange for them; but I think we can have your protégée look on from the gallery. Good afternoon.”
As Mrs. ¬ÝVanderpool drove home she related the talk to Zora. Zora was silent at first. Then she said deliberately:
“Miss Wynn was right.”
“Why, Zora!”
“Did Helene attend the ball four years ago?”
“But, Zora, must you folk ape our nonsense as well as our sense?”
“You force us to,” said Zora.