Xingu

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Xingu Page 7

by Edith Wharton

the kind had happened in _my_ house" (it never would have, her toneimplied), "I should have felt that I owed it to myself either to ask forMrs. Roby's resignation--or to offer mine."

  "Oh, Mrs. Plinth--" gasped the Lunch Club.

  "Fortunately for me," Mrs. Plinth continued with an awful magnanimity,"the matter was taken out of my hands by our President's decision thatthe right to entertain distinguished guests was a privilege vested inher office; and I think the other members will agree that, as she wasalone in this opinion, she ought to be alone in deciding on the best wayof effacing its--its really deplorable consequences."

  A deep silence followed this outbreak of Mrs. Plinth's long-storedresentment.

  "I don't see why I should be expected to ask her to resign--" Mrs.Ballinger at length began; but Laura Glyde turned back to remind her:"You know she made you say that you'd got on swimmingly in Xingu."

  An ill-timed giggle escaped from Mrs. Leveret, and Mrs. Ballingerenergetically continued "--but you needn't think for a moment that I'mafraid to!"

  The door of the drawing-room closed on the retreating backs of theLunch Club, and the President of that distinguished association, seatingherself at her writing-table, and pushing away a copy of "The Wings ofDeath" to make room for her elbow, drew forth a sheet of the club'snote-paper, on which she began to write: "My dear Mrs. Roby--"

 


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