Lilian Jackson Braun - Cat 11 Who Lived High

"Enchant‚!" said Qwilleran, bending low over her hand in a courtly gesture. Then he drew from his pocket a perfect Bosc pear with bronze skin and long, curved stem, offering it in the palm of his hand like a jewel-encrusted Faberge bauble. "The perfect complement for your beautiful apartment, Mademoiselle." The Countess was a trifle slow in responding. "How charming... Please be seated... Ferdinand, you may bring the tea tray." She seated herself gracefully on an overstuffed sofa in front of the tortoiseshell tea table. "I trust you are well, Mary?" "Quite well, thank you. And you, Miss Adelaide?" "Very well. Did it rain today?" "Yes, rather briskly." The hostess turned to Qwilleran, inclining her head winningly. "You have recently arrived from the east?" "From the north," he corrected her. "Four hundred miles north." "How cold it must be!" Mary said, , 'Mr. Qwilleran is spending the winter here to escape the snow and ice." "How lovely! I hope you will enjoy your stay, Mr..." "Qwilleran." "Do you play bridge?" "I regret to say that bridge is not one of my accomplishments," he said, "but I have a considerable aptitude for Scrabble." Mary expressed surprise, and the Countess expressed delight. "How nice! You must join me in a game some evening." Ferdinand, wearing white cotton gloves, placed a silver tea tray before her-cubistic in design with ebony trim - and the hostess performed the tea ritual with well-practiced gestures.

"Mr. Qwilleran is a writer," said Mary.

"How wonderful! What do you write?" "I plan to write a book on the history of the Casablanca," he said, astonishing Mary once more. "The public library has a large collection of photos, including many of yourself, Miss Plumb." "Do they have pictures of my dear father?" "Quite a few." "I would adore seeing them." She tilted her head prettily.

"Do you have many recollections of the early Casablanca?" "Yes indeed! I was born here - in this very suite - with a midwife, a nurse, and two doctors in attendance. My father was Harrison Wills Plumb - a wonderful man! I hardly remember my mother. She was related to the Pennimans.

She died when I was only four. There was an influenza epidemic, and my mother and two brothers were stricken. All three of them died in one week, leaving me as my father's only consolation. I was four years old." Mary said, "Tell Mr. Qwilleran how you happened to escape the epidemic." "It was a miracle! My nurse - I think her name was Hedda - asked permission to take me to the mountains where it would be healthier. We stayed there - the two of us - in a small cabin, living on onions and molasses and tea... I shudder to think of it. But neither of us became ill. I returned to my home to find only my father alive - a shattered man! I was four years old." Ferdinand's clumsy hands, in white gloves the size of an outfielder's mitt, passed a silver salver of pound cake studded with caraway seeds.

The Countess went on. "1 was all my father had left in the world, and he lavished me with attention and lovely things. I adored him!" "Did he send you away to school?" Qwilleran asked.

"I was schooled at home by private tutors, because my father refused to allow me out of his sight. We went everywhere together - to the symphony and opera and charity balls. When we traveled abroad each year we were entertained royally in Paris and always dined at the captain's table aboard ship. I called Father my best beau, and he sent me tea roses and cherry cordials... Ferdinand, you may pass the bonbons." The big hands passed a tiny footed candy dish in which three chocolate-covered cherries rested on a linen doily.