Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 26, No. 4. Whole No. 143, October 1955

“Listen, child.” Mrs. Webster was regaining her composure. “I have read more women’s magazine stories than you have. I know that becoming engaged is supposed to brighten the eye and tone up the blood. I have even been engaged myself and these snowy curls came straight out of a bottle — but please give me a blow-by-blow description! What happened to you?”

Magda felt like a schoolgirl caught smoking. “Last Tuesday I met Mr. Walter Brand. He picked me up.”

“The antique dealer up the street?”

Magda nodded.

“I know him. He’s good.”

“He said I did everything wrong. My powder and rouge, my hair, my clothes.”

“Yes, yes. I could have told you that. So he bought you these clothes... Well, the old saying is right: you can’t tell a book by its cover. Anyway, congratulations.”

That was the way it went. When she saw him off on the Liberté she got more attention than the ship itself and Walter felt a warm glow from being envied. For she had promised to marry him.

But she would not have done so if he had stayed — and Walter knew it. She liked him. He had changed her life — but that did not mean she loved him. She did not love him, but he was not there to remind her of the fact. So the other suitors — and there were many who, from the unlikeliest spots, came suddenly to flock around — were kept at bay. And when he returned and had picked out a suitable apartment on Sixty-Fourth Street, they were married quietly, with Mrs. Webster as her attendant, in the Chapel of the Church of the Heavenly Rest.

That little fact of Mrs. Webster’s being her attendant speaks volumes. Martha Webster was not as discerning as Walter Brand but when she was taught a lesson she learned it. When Walter returned from Europe, Magda was no longer employed by Mrs. Webster because she could draw. She was a junior partner because she not only could draw but she could double the business and had. Men who had balked at their wives’ extravagant ideas found it a pleasure as long as the business was done through Mrs. Lederer, and even the frostiest dowagers were softened by her warm smile. Her taste had not improved but Mrs. Webster had enough for two. She still did small chores but her function was as business-getter and she found it fun. She was therefore entirely adamant about giving it up. Yes, she would marry Walter because she had promised and had no valid reason for changing her mind, but she insisted on keeping her job. This had irritated Walter at first but not for long. It meant that she was seen — in circulation, so to speak — during the day as well as in the evening when he paraded her. It gave him great satisfaction to be known as the husband of Mrs. Magda Brand.

Nor did marriage make Magda actively unhappy. She became bored with the parading — restaurants every night, cabarets, stares, and the conceit that seemed to ooze out of her husband on account of the stares. And the constant surveillance — “This is wrong, buy that — no, not that color, are you mad? This!” She was simply his most expensive objet d’art, and although she often felt like a freak in the circus, on what basis could she complain?

The real trouble would have to be explained by Dr. Kinsey. Walter’s two scouts, Isadora Elmenstein and the French fitter at Bergdorf’s had not lied. Naked, she was perfection — but just how wanton did her husband expect her to be? His delicate taste could so easily be offended. Gradually she came to see what was wrong. Not only did she not love him, but neither did he love her. Perhaps that was why Elsie had jumped out of the window. Perhaps Elsie had been more emotional than she, Magda, was. Perhaps the fact that she had no taste dulled other perceptions as well. At any rate, she had no intention of jumping out of a window. Her first marriage had not been all sweetness and light. She supposed very few marriages were. The trouble was a nebulous one, possibly imaginary. She was healthy, wealthy, and if you couldn’t be wise could you help it? Magda had character and, wisely, decided cheerfully to make the best of things.

There is something about the New Year that stimulates housewives in New York City into redecorating. The holiday spirit remains, the plans can be made and the work done while they are away in Florida or on a cruise, and the income tax is not quite due. Such a stimulus had come to Mrs. St. Clair Van Allen and when that happens it does not involve peanuts.

Mrs. Martha Webster was seriously distraught. “Magda, darling, for a decorator I have committed the unforgivable sin.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’ve forgotten a man’s name.”

“I suppose it has to do with Mrs. Van Allen.”

“How clever of you! That job will pay the rent for five years — and I forget the man’s name!”

“If you’ll calm down, I’ll call her up and ask her.”