Read Online Magnolia by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page B

Christmas. She kept the apartment spotlessly clean, as well, and even found time to help Mrs. Dobbs bake. She felt obliged to do that, since she was having to borrow her landlady’s woodstove to make her contributions to her various societies.
    Mrs. Dobbs was impressed by the sort of women who began to call on Claire for tea. The names read like the roster of Atlanta society. The landlady began to dress more formally—and even to help Claire set up the tea tray, using her own best silver.
    â€œI must say, Claire,” Mrs. Dobbs told her one afternoon, “I’m very impressed with the company you’ve beenkeeping. Imagine! Mrs. Bruce Paine right here in my house! Why, her family and her husband’s were founding families of Atlanta, and they keep company with people like the Astors and the Vanderbilts!”
    â€œI’ve known Evelyn for several years,” Claire confided. “She’s a fine person, but for obvious reasons, I never tried to become a close friend.”
    â€œWell, that’s all changed with your marriage, since Mr. Hawthorn is well-to-do and holds the position he does at the Peachtree City Bank.”
    Claire didn’t exactly know that John was well-to-do, although he never seemed to lack money. He didn’t discuss finances with her. She did know that his position at the bank was an important one. “Yes, I know. That’s why I’ve tried so hard to find my way into the right social circles, so that I wouldn’t make him ashamed of me.”
    â€œMy dear,” Mrs. Dobbs said gently, “no one would be ashamed of such a hardworking, kind young woman.”
    Claire flushed. Mrs. Dobbs always made her feel better. It was just as well that the starchy woman had been out of the house the day John and his business colleagues came home to find Claire in such a disreputable condition. “You’re the kind one, Mrs. Dobbs—to give me such freedom in your house.”
    â€œIt’s been my pleasure. I must tell you, I’ve enjoyed the little savories left over from your efforts. Where did you learn to cook so well?”
    â€œFrom my uncle’s housekeeper,” she recalled. “She wasa wonderful cook—of the ‘pinch of this and dab of that’ variety.”
    â€œNow, I’m just the opposite. I can’t cook without my measures.” There was a knock at the door. “Ah, that will be your callers, Claire. I’ll let them in.”
    Claire greeted Evelyn and her friends, Jane Corley and Emma Hawks, and introduced them to the flustered, beaming Mrs. Dobbs.
    It made the landlady’s day. She went off to bring in the tea tray in an absolute delirium of pleasure.
    Later, after tea and cakes, Evelyn brought out a sketch from the leather writing case she carried.
    â€œI’m no artist, but this is what I thought I’d like you to make me for the ball, Claire,” she said, and handed the rough sketch to the younger woman. “What do you think?”
    â€œWhy, it’s lovely,” Claire said, nodding as she considered fabric and trim. “But this line, just here, won’t do. A peplum is going to make you look chubby around the hips, which you certainly are not,” she added with a grin.
    Evelyn’s eyes widened. “Why, you’re right. I never noticed.”
    Claire took a pencil from the small porcelain bowl on the occasional table and erased the line. “And if we just add one flounce to the skirt, here…” She made another few strokes with the pencil, while Evelyn watched, amazed.
    â€œThere,” she said, finished, and handed the sketch back. “What do you think? In black, of course—with silver trim and black jet beads on the bodice, just here?”
    Evelyn was wordless. “Exquisite,” she said finally. “Just exquisite.”
    â€œI’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Emma Hawkes exclaimed. “I buy all my clothes in