In the Still of the Night

downtrodden people could find to take their minds off the Depression.
    The steel mill in Pittsburgh was foundering, but so far Lily and Mr. Prinney refused to lower the workers’ wages and hours even though the demand for girders was falling like a rock because no one could afford new construction. Money was pouring into that concern, but not back out.
    This wasn’t, however, the time to think about that. She turned her thoughts to Robert, who was as citified as a person could be. Even he was adjusting slowly to rural life. The idea of taking the trouble to bring in interesting guests had probably appealed much more to him than to her. Though she was still a bit fretful about Robert’s misgivings about their first famous guest being Julian West. What if West just locked himself in his room and refused to socialize with anyone?
    Her musings were interrupted by the doorbell. She glanced at her watch. Only three-thirty. Somebody was very early. A uniformed driver stood at the door, “I’m delivering Mrs. Ethridge, ma’am. This is Grace and Favor Cottage, isn’t it?”
    Lily confirmed it and he went back to the enormous black car purring quietly in the drive. He opened the back door for his passenger and started unloading a flock of little pieces of luggage.
    “You must be Lily,“ Lorna Pratt Ethridge said, coming to embrace Lily. “The last time I saw you, you were a girl in French braids. And here you are now, a lovely young woman. I’m so grateful you allowed me to force myself on your party. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you by arriving a bit early. My brother needed the car and driver for an appointment later. I knew Julian West when I was a young woman and I’m so anxious to renew our friendship.”
    Lily had led Mrs. Ethridge into the house as she talked. Mrs. Ethridge looked around and said, “My! This is much bigger and nicer than I would have thought from outside.”
    Mimi appeared, did a quick curtsey and took the first flood of the luggage upstairs.
    While Mrs. Ethridge looked around, Lily studied her. She was a little woman with tiny elegant hands and feet. A bit overweight, but in a lush and attractive way. Her voice, deep and husky for such a small, dainty woman, was appealing as well. It suggested intimacy.
    She hadn’t succumbed to fashion and had on a rather plain but expensive and well-made dress, and her glossy brown hair was drawn back simply in a thick bun at the back of her head. Her jewelry, of which there was a lot, was small and delicate. She wore a gold necklace with a pendant of grape leaves and tiny, faintly greenish pearls and matching earrings. Several bracelets clinked melodically against one another.
    Lily knew that Mrs. Ethridge was probably in her fifties, and looked it, but was very attractive and... well, alluring. She was one of those rare middle-aged women who would probably attract even men much her junior. There was nothing vulgar about her, but she seemed to naturally ooze sex appeal in the most refined way.
    “Would you like to see the rest of the house?“ Lily asked, not quite knowing what else to do with her first, solitary and uninvited guest.
    “Perhaps later, dear. It’s been a longish trip. I’d like to just sit down somewhere and collect myself first.“
    “Let’s go to the library then. It’s my favorite room and has a wonderful view.”
    They settled themselves in two comfortable chairs flanking a small antique marquetry table. “I remember your mother so fondly,“ Mrs. Ethridge said. “She was such a lovely woman and it was so tragic that she passed from us so young. How old were you when you lost her?“
    “Fifteen. It was very hard,“ Lily said uncomfortably. She didn’t like talking about her mother and her heartbreak to a relative stranger.
    There was a tiny rumble somewhere. Mrs. Ethridge waved a dainty hand at her midsection and said, “So sorry, but I didn’t get lunch.“
    “I’m sorry. I’ll get you something.“
    “Oh, I shouldn’t ask. It’s so rude of me. But... if you might have just the tiniest little thing I could nibble on?“
    “Of course,“ Lily said. “I’ll have a sandwich made up.”
    Mrs. Ethridge was distressed. “No, no, dear. Just a tiny plate of cheese and crackers would suit me fine. Perhaps the itsy-bitsiest dab of caviar?”
    Mimi had quietly reappeared and was standing next to the library door. “Would you like to see your room now, ma’am?“
    “Oh, I would so love that,“ the older woman