Manuscripts/Mixed Material [Three Generations]
The telephone jingles again. “Yes, Miss Christopher, I do remember you very clearly. ( She explains to me in a whisper, it is a young grade teacher she met several months ago, now out of a position). Yes, you are most certainly welcome to come and bring your friend to the tea this afternoon, and after everyone leaves, I'll be glad to go into my work with you. Yes, I'll be glad to share my ideas with you - maybe you can improve on them.”
Before she leaves the desk, the telephone rings again.
“Yes, Daddy. You are coming right out? Only sandwiches, remember. We can't ‘smell’ up the house with cooking at this time of the day. Yes, the horn is at Finkelstein's and Sonny is pacing the floor right now, ready to go with you to get it. Listen, Tom, if you are very hungry, please get yourself a good lunch before you come home.”
“I am preparing to depart. The decorating committee having completed its work has already gone, leaving the house a bower of tastefully arranged Spring in simple style, so becoming to the old rooms.
“You have not seen the library yet,” says Mrs. Irvington. It opens to the east of the living room, with access from the music room, the entrance hall and the kitchen.
“Here's where I live.” she laughed. “When things go wrong, and they do go wrong in spite of the ‘best laid plans of [nice?] and men,’ I like to fly in here and seek comfort from the old classics of song and story.
The large room with its lounge, its comfortable chairs, its carefully planned window arrangements, was lined with shelves from