In the Still of the Night

“Mr. Cecil Hoornart. I’m sure you know of him. He’s a critic, a professor and a writer himself of literary biographies. I’m sure you’ve seen his reviews of your books.“
    “I think perhaps I have,“ West said, shaking hands with Cecil, who obviously wasn’t carried away with joy at this lukewarm reception.
    “I’m sure you’ll have a great many things in common to talk about,“ Lily said, “but I must introduce you to the others first. She led him across the room where Rachel and Raymond were now examining a very old portrait of an early Brewster.
    “He looks like a carpenter, all togged out for Sunday services,“ Raymond was saying just barely loud enough to be heard.
    Lily’s introduction this time was perfunctory. Who was Raymond Cameron to make snide remarks about her ancestors, even though for all she knew the man in the portrait might have been exactly what Raymond said.
    She noticed that Cecil Hoornart was looking neglected, so she sat down beside him, quite upright so he wouldn’t get the impression that she’d come for a long talk, just a brief chat. “What inspired you to do a biography of Julian West?“ she asked.
    Cecil tented his fingers and nodded approval of the question. “I think it was that his early books and later books are so very different. They could have been written by two entirely different men.”
    Bud Carpenter had approached them and waited patiently for a break in the conversation. “Is there anything I could bring you?“ he asked.
    Lily and Cecil both politely said no, as Julian West bellowed across the room, “Bud, come here.“ Bud excused himself to attend his master.
    Lily went on with the conversation. “What do you mean by that?“
    “That the early books were written by a Julian West who was a scholar. They were meticulously researched, well written, and informative. But somehow lacking a truly human element except for the main characters. After the Great War, they were written by a Julian West who had been in a war. Still well researched, but gritty and much more violent. Even the minor characters were wracked with fear. They were dirty, they spoke more realistically. Do you see what I mean?“
    “Yes, you’re quite right. I believe that’s exactly why I like the earlier books better,“ Lily said with a smile as she rose from her chair.
    “Many people feel that way,“ Cecil said. “I like both and enjoy the contrast.”
    Her first round of hostess duties almost completed, she went back one last time to the entry hall to see if Robert and Mad Henry had returned. Apparently not. The screwdrivers were still on the floor. She picked them up and put them on a side table and took a deep breath. Pretty soon she could break up the party in the yellow parlor and send them all up to dress for dinner.
    The initial part of her job was done and it hadn’t gone as badly as it might have.

Chapter 8

    Dinner the first night went well. Mrs. Prinney had prepared lamb chops so juicy and tender that Lily vaguely wondered about Mrs. P’s true relationship with the town butcher and greengrocer. There were crispy, buttery roasted potatoes, tiny succulent peas, a mint sauce she’d shown Lily how to make the previous summer, and a salad that looked like the greens had been hand-raised in a greenhouse. Robert had taken a kerosene lamp to a distant area of the basement of the house and found a superb stash of very fine wines. He came up with four bottles and had to take a bath to get the cobwebs off himself.
    The vast dining room table could easily have seated twenty with lots of room and twenty-four with a bit of crowding, but several leaves had been removed to accommodate twelve with intimacy. Though they were evenly divided between men and women, Lily couldn’t work out a way to alternate sexes. She, as hostess, had to sit at one end, and Julian, as guest of honor, at the other.
    She put place cards for Addie and Phoebe beside Julian West, thinking Addie was the smartest woman and Phoebe the prettiest. Mr. Prinney was next to Addie (he would admire her common sense) and Raymond was next to Phoebe. Rachel and Lorna were across from each other, beyond them, Robert and Cecil faced each other. Which left Mad Henry on Lily’s right and Mrs. Prinney on her left. This was necessary because that end of the table was closest to the kitchen and Mrs. Prinney could slip in and out of the room unobtrusively if there were troubles in the kitchen.
    Mimi Smith stood on one