8 • He appears again

THE CUNNINGHAMS gave only one party a year, not wanting to be ostentatious, an eggnog party the Friday before Christmas. Lilian did not want to go, feeling too listless to socialize, but her parents would not hear of leaving her behind. Whole families attended the Cunninghams’ Christmas party. Living nearby, the four Eliots walked there, Arthur not wearing an overcoat as if it were a spring night.

Marian Lockwood was the first person Lilian ran into when she stepped inside the door. At first she was surprised to see her there, Marian had broken off with Chip Cunningham that fall. Everyone had assumed there would be an engagement in the summer — though Aunt Tizzy said she knew they wouldn’t, obviously lacking the spark — but Marian had decided against it. Lilian had known Marian since infancy, a plump-armed, exuberant girl who was cozy with you as long as she got what she wanted, which she usually did. The oldest of five girls, Marian Lockwood was accustomed to telling people what to do. Clearly, she had wanted to come to the Christmas party and had simply told Chip Cunningham, a weak fellow with an indecisive face, who was powerless to say no.

Familiar with the Cunningham house, Marian Lockwood was right at home. What a pretty color, Marian said about Lilian’s dress. The Lockwood girls did their clothes buying in New York under their cousins’ guidance and took great interest in fashion. Tell me where you found it.

Irene Minter was there. Lilian was glad to see her. Irene Minter seemed to exist in another world, pale, black-eyed, lifted apart by an inner distraction, troubled by private things. Her hair was the color of pale wheat. Irene was always asking unanswerable questions, something which annoyed people but which Lilian liked, intrigued more by her manner than by the odd things she came up with. Irene had artistic talents, something Lilian admired, and the Cunninghams had a little watercolor she’d done of a boat which they’d bought at a benefit art show. Irene was showing the little painting with great embarrassment to her escort who looked as if he’d stepped out of an Arrow Shirt advertisement.

Why, you look wonderful, Irene Minter said, her black eyes wondrous. Is it love? She introduced Lilian to her friend, a fellow previously unknown to her. Irene Minter tended to go around with handsome men, sleepy-eyed and vague, who seemed hardly to notice her.

Dolly Cushing was there, hair glinting, dressed in something with rows of scallops and showing off a new pair of strap shoes. Striking just the wrong note, Dolly winked hello. Lilian’s mood was low. Mr. Cunningham called her Ellen, and Mrs. Cunningham extended an invitation to her daughter Elizabeth’s birthday the next month. Elizabeth Cunningham was younger than Lilian, but their families being friends, she’d have to go. Elizabeth, frightened and graceless, did not have many friends of her own.