Page:Stella Dallas, a novel (IA stelladallasnove00prou).pdf/14

4 sound asleep; in a far corner four women playing silent bridge.

As Laurel gazed at the women, her eyes took on their peculiar contemplative expression. She knew who they were. Three of the players were prominent social leaders in the hotel-world; and the fourth, the poor, pinched-looking, unattractive little creature in black, was Mrs. Tom Lawrence, who had arrived two days ago. Laurel had learned all about Mrs. Tom Lawrence from behind the chair-backs. As she stared, her eyes narrowed. "They're being nice to Mrs. Lawrence," she thought, "and Mrs. Lawrence is divorced, while mother is only 'separated.

She slid into the deep-seated lap of an enormous leather armchair near by. Through the big front doors she could catch a glimpse of a group of girls about her own age, seated on the piazza railing, swinging their legs, and eating candy. One of the girls was the daughter of the pretty Mrs. Cameron, now playing bridge in the far corner. Laurel did not join the girls. She didn't give mothers at a summer hotel a second opportunity to call, "Come, dear, I think you'd better come in now," to their children when she became one of a group; nor the children themselves to link arms and move away from her.

This year she had scarcely given them a first opportunity. Somehow things had been worse this year than ever before, and right from the start, too.

She looked up at the loud-ticking clock. It was only quarter after four. Her mother had told her that she must amuse herself this afternoon. She