though she and Diana had never fought, she had also never considered that the younger Holland might have an opinion about Lina that was separate from her sister’s. “Father was in copper smelting, out west,” she heard herself say, “but they’re both dead now. That’s why I came here.”
“Ah, yes, I remember.” Diana nodded seriously. “You met my sister, Elizabeth, in Paris—she told me your story.”
“Yes.” Lina hurried to make herself say a phrase she never thought she’d utter: “Dear Elizabeth.”
50 ♥elavanilla♥
“You’re like the heroine of some novel.” Diana paused thoughtfully and took Lina’s hand. “Be careful of the tragic fall at the end, though—anyone who rises too quickly is supposed to get one, and I wouldn’t want that for you.”
“Thank you, Miss….” As Lina trailed off she noticed that one of the ladies across the room, who was dressed in spangled gold satin, was smiling at her. Diana was being so nice about everything, Lina almost wanted to tell her about the rest of her plan, and meeting Will. But some superstition rose in her, and she decided she might jinx it if she revealed too much. “Thank you, Di.”
Diana leaned her head of curls back against the cushions, but Lina could not possibly help but look across the room of women who a moment ago had been thinking unkind thoughts about her and now considered her one of them. She was overcome by the frightening exhilaration of having gotten away with something that was near impossible.
In an instant she was brought back to a luxury store for ladies of years ago where her mother, when she was the Holland girls’ governess, used to run errands. On one occasion Lina had been so taken with a set of hair combs that they had appeared in her dreams, and on the next trip to the store, she had reached out and tried to grasp them from the display table. She had been too furtive, too uncalculating, to grab both, but it hardly mattered. The thrill she’d felt on possessing even one of those gilt filigreed objects could not possibly have been increased by the finding of a practical use for it. She would sneak little looks at the glittering comb from time to time, when she was alone, and the sight of it always inspired that same dangerous sensation inside of her. It was the same with her now, except that the feeling was more tangible and the thing she had gotten away with far more important.
She carried the feeling with her back to Mr. Longhorn’s box, after she and Diana had parted in the hall, where he continued to introduce her to whatever friends stopped by even as the performers below reached their sad, feverish end. She could see her prettiness reflected in these visitors’ eyes, and knew that she would appear that way to Will when she was with him next.
Lina’s confidence grew with her sense of elation, and she felt even more acutely the glimmering golden light of the chandelier as it fell across her forehead and clavicles, the gay fizz of the champagne that Mr. Longhorn served her, the vast grandeur of the auditorium, which already felt like one of her places. She had been a success at the opera—it was almost like an object she could hold, a piece of evidence that suggested she might almost be ready to go west.
“Thank you, Mr. Longhorn,” she said when she had finally, regretfully reached the door to her room in the Netherland.
“It is I who should thank you,” he answered, with a gallant tip of the head and a kiss on her gloved hand. He stood back and waited, with the lines from his nostrils to the corners of his mouth becoming a little extra pronounced and a sharp twinkle in his eye. She smiled back at him
—she could hardly have stopped—before slipping past the door.
The night was still far too vivid for her to have slept, but that wouldn’t have happened anyway.
No sooner had the lock turned in its groove did she became aware of a scene that would haunt 51 ♥elavanilla♥
any potential
“Ah, yes, I remember.” Diana nodded seriously. “You met my sister, Elizabeth, in Paris—she told me your story.”
“Yes.” Lina hurried to make herself say a phrase she never thought she’d utter: “Dear Elizabeth.”
50 ♥elavanilla♥
“You’re like the heroine of some novel.” Diana paused thoughtfully and took Lina’s hand. “Be careful of the tragic fall at the end, though—anyone who rises too quickly is supposed to get one, and I wouldn’t want that for you.”
“Thank you, Miss….” As Lina trailed off she noticed that one of the ladies across the room, who was dressed in spangled gold satin, was smiling at her. Diana was being so nice about everything, Lina almost wanted to tell her about the rest of her plan, and meeting Will. But some superstition rose in her, and she decided she might jinx it if she revealed too much. “Thank you, Di.”
Diana leaned her head of curls back against the cushions, but Lina could not possibly help but look across the room of women who a moment ago had been thinking unkind thoughts about her and now considered her one of them. She was overcome by the frightening exhilaration of having gotten away with something that was near impossible.
In an instant she was brought back to a luxury store for ladies of years ago where her mother, when she was the Holland girls’ governess, used to run errands. On one occasion Lina had been so taken with a set of hair combs that they had appeared in her dreams, and on the next trip to the store, she had reached out and tried to grasp them from the display table. She had been too furtive, too uncalculating, to grab both, but it hardly mattered. The thrill she’d felt on possessing even one of those gilt filigreed objects could not possibly have been increased by the finding of a practical use for it. She would sneak little looks at the glittering comb from time to time, when she was alone, and the sight of it always inspired that same dangerous sensation inside of her. It was the same with her now, except that the feeling was more tangible and the thing she had gotten away with far more important.
She carried the feeling with her back to Mr. Longhorn’s box, after she and Diana had parted in the hall, where he continued to introduce her to whatever friends stopped by even as the performers below reached their sad, feverish end. She could see her prettiness reflected in these visitors’ eyes, and knew that she would appear that way to Will when she was with him next.
Lina’s confidence grew with her sense of elation, and she felt even more acutely the glimmering golden light of the chandelier as it fell across her forehead and clavicles, the gay fizz of the champagne that Mr. Longhorn served her, the vast grandeur of the auditorium, which already felt like one of her places. She had been a success at the opera—it was almost like an object she could hold, a piece of evidence that suggested she might almost be ready to go west.
“Thank you, Mr. Longhorn,” she said when she had finally, regretfully reached the door to her room in the Netherland.
“It is I who should thank you,” he answered, with a gallant tip of the head and a kiss on her gloved hand. He stood back and waited, with the lines from his nostrils to the corners of his mouth becoming a little extra pronounced and a sharp twinkle in his eye. She smiled back at him
—she could hardly have stopped—before slipping past the door.
The night was still far too vivid for her to have slept, but that wouldn’t have happened anyway.
No sooner had the lock turned in its groove did she became aware of a scene that would haunt 51 ♥elavanilla♥
any potential
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