aren’t.”
“Then Cardinal will come to visit.”
Mrs. Steers flew back to New York that afternoon. Cora Mandell, in whose firm she worked, was doing up a house in Southampton and said she needed her help.
Immediately
. Cora knew what was going on and didn’t like it. It was she who had first been called in to do up the Bradleys’ brand-new Tudor house, and then, because she was so busy, she had turned it over to Sally Steers to do the follow-up work. “Actually,” Cora said, “they’re my favorite upstarts. One step beyond antimacassars, but Grace is really quite nice, when you get used to all that talk about novenas and stations ofthe cross and holy days of obligation. She’s avid, terribly well meaning, very religious, not very bright, but I like her immensely. But be careful of him, Sally. Gerald Bradley has wandering hands. You’ll feel his hand on your knee, and higher, under the tablecloth, at the same time he’s talking with Cardinal Sullivan on the other side about Church matters.”
“I know how to handle that,” said Sally.
“I hope so. He is irresistibly common, not unattractive in an Irish sort of way, and wildly rich. He is, you will discover, a giver of mink coats from Revillon Frères.”
In the beginning, the Bradleys were so unused to the splendors of furniture and decoration with which Cora Mandell had surrounded them that when pieces or objects were moved about in the course of family life, their correct positions in the rooms could never be found exactly. Only Sis Malloy, the cousin, could remember, but no one wanted to ask Sis. Twice Mrs. Mandell returned to the house to rearrange things and restore her perfect balance. “Symmetry, Mrs. Bradley,” she said. “Always remember symmetry.” On her second visit, she brought Sally Steers with her to photograph each room, as well as each tabletop, and the photographs were used for reference should things be moved out of place again. Mrs. Steers placed discreet pieces of tape on console tables and mantelpieces to show exactly where the export china plates were to be placed on stands. Often she stayed to lunch.
“Let me see, let me see, how should I do this?” said Grace. “You here, Des, next to me, and you, Constant, sit by Maureen, and Father Daly, on my right, and Mrs. Steers, next to Father, and Gerald on the other side of Mrs. Steers. And Mary Pat next to Daddy.”
“You do that so well, Mrs. Bradley,” said Sally Steers. “It takes me forever, and I always end up with a husbandand wife sitting next to each other, or two people who hate each other.”
“Do your miracle with the lobster, Bridey. You know how Mr. Bradley adores your thermidor. Or is it your Newburg? I never can remember, but you know, Bridey,” said Grace. That night the family gathered for a festive evening with toasts and speeches to Constant. Nice old Irish maids in summer pink uniforms passed cheese puffs before dinner. There were eighteen in the group. The men dressed in blazers and white trousers, and the women in linen dresses. The tennis pro was there. The golf pro was there. Some business friends of Gerald’s from Boston. A convent friend of Maureen’s who was being looked over as a possible wife for one of the older brothers. And Weegie Somerset, who was staying with the Utleys down the beach.
“Oh, take off your jackets. Do. Do. It’s frightfully hot, and the air conditioners are not really working well,” said Grace, who enjoyed her role as hostess. “No, no, don’t you talk, you two. I’ve seated you next to each other at dinner.” After a whispered conversation with Bridey, who appeared on the veranda, Grace moved from group to group and with a timorous wave of her hand toward the dining room gave the signal that dinner would be served.
After dinner, Gerald suggested to Constant that he read to the family the paper he had written that had so impressed Dr. Shugrue. Constant hopped to his feet and stood in front of the fireplace as his
“Then Cardinal will come to visit.”
Mrs. Steers flew back to New York that afternoon. Cora Mandell, in whose firm she worked, was doing up a house in Southampton and said she needed her help.
Immediately
. Cora knew what was going on and didn’t like it. It was she who had first been called in to do up the Bradleys’ brand-new Tudor house, and then, because she was so busy, she had turned it over to Sally Steers to do the follow-up work. “Actually,” Cora said, “they’re my favorite upstarts. One step beyond antimacassars, but Grace is really quite nice, when you get used to all that talk about novenas and stations ofthe cross and holy days of obligation. She’s avid, terribly well meaning, very religious, not very bright, but I like her immensely. But be careful of him, Sally. Gerald Bradley has wandering hands. You’ll feel his hand on your knee, and higher, under the tablecloth, at the same time he’s talking with Cardinal Sullivan on the other side about Church matters.”
“I know how to handle that,” said Sally.
“I hope so. He is irresistibly common, not unattractive in an Irish sort of way, and wildly rich. He is, you will discover, a giver of mink coats from Revillon Frères.”
In the beginning, the Bradleys were so unused to the splendors of furniture and decoration with which Cora Mandell had surrounded them that when pieces or objects were moved about in the course of family life, their correct positions in the rooms could never be found exactly. Only Sis Malloy, the cousin, could remember, but no one wanted to ask Sis. Twice Mrs. Mandell returned to the house to rearrange things and restore her perfect balance. “Symmetry, Mrs. Bradley,” she said. “Always remember symmetry.” On her second visit, she brought Sally Steers with her to photograph each room, as well as each tabletop, and the photographs were used for reference should things be moved out of place again. Mrs. Steers placed discreet pieces of tape on console tables and mantelpieces to show exactly where the export china plates were to be placed on stands. Often she stayed to lunch.
“Let me see, let me see, how should I do this?” said Grace. “You here, Des, next to me, and you, Constant, sit by Maureen, and Father Daly, on my right, and Mrs. Steers, next to Father, and Gerald on the other side of Mrs. Steers. And Mary Pat next to Daddy.”
“You do that so well, Mrs. Bradley,” said Sally Steers. “It takes me forever, and I always end up with a husbandand wife sitting next to each other, or two people who hate each other.”
“Do your miracle with the lobster, Bridey. You know how Mr. Bradley adores your thermidor. Or is it your Newburg? I never can remember, but you know, Bridey,” said Grace. That night the family gathered for a festive evening with toasts and speeches to Constant. Nice old Irish maids in summer pink uniforms passed cheese puffs before dinner. There were eighteen in the group. The men dressed in blazers and white trousers, and the women in linen dresses. The tennis pro was there. The golf pro was there. Some business friends of Gerald’s from Boston. A convent friend of Maureen’s who was being looked over as a possible wife for one of the older brothers. And Weegie Somerset, who was staying with the Utleys down the beach.
“Oh, take off your jackets. Do. Do. It’s frightfully hot, and the air conditioners are not really working well,” said Grace, who enjoyed her role as hostess. “No, no, don’t you talk, you two. I’ve seated you next to each other at dinner.” After a whispered conversation with Bridey, who appeared on the veranda, Grace moved from group to group and with a timorous wave of her hand toward the dining room gave the signal that dinner would be served.
After dinner, Gerald suggested to Constant that he read to the family the paper he had written that had so impressed Dr. Shugrue. Constant hopped to his feet and stood in front of the fireplace as his
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