It made Daisy feel defiant. She would not let this ruin her day. ‘Well, I’ll be the only girl in Buffalo who has been stood up for Gladys Angelus,’ she said. ‘Now, what shall I wear?’

Skirts were dramatically short this year in Paris, but the conservative Buffalo set followed fashion at a distance. However, Daisy had a knee-length tennis dress in a shade of baby-blue the same as her eyes. Maybe today was the day to bring it out. She slipped off her dress and put on the new one. ‘What do you think?’ she said.

Eva said: ‘Oh, Daisy, it’s beautiful, but . . .’

Olga said: ‘That’ll make their eyes pop.’ Olga liked it when Daisy dressed to kill. Perhaps it reminded her of her youth.

Eva said: ‘Daisy, if they’re all so snobbish, why do you want to go to the party?’

‘Charlie Farquharson will be there, and I’m thinking of marrying him,’ Daisy said.

‘Are you serious?’

Olga said emphatically: ‘He’s a great catch.’

Eva said: ‘What’s he like?’

‘Absolutely adorable,’ Daisy said. ‘Not the handsomest boy in Buffalo, but sweet and kind, and rather shy.’

‘He sounds very different from you.’

‘It’s the attraction of opposites.’

Olga spoke again. ‘The Farquharsons are among the oldest families in Buffalo.’

Eva raised her dark eyebrows. ‘Snobby?’

‘Very,’ Daisy said. ‘But Charlie’s father lost all his money in the Wall Street crash, then died – killed himself, some say – so they need to restore the family fortunes.’

Eva looked shocked. ‘You’re hoping he’ll marry you for your money?’

‘No. He’ll marry me because I will bewitch him. But his mother will accept me for my money.’

‘You say you will bewitch him. Does he know about any of this?’

‘Not yet. But I think I might make a start this afternoon. Yes, this is definitely the right dress.’

Daisy wore the baby-blue and Eva the navy-and-white stripes. By the time they had got ready they were late.

Daisy’s mother would not have a chauffeur. ‘I married my father’s chauffeur, and it ruined my life,’ she sometimes said. She was terrified Daisy might do something similar – that was why she was so keen on Charlie Farquharson. If she needed to go anywhere in her creaking 1925 Stutz she made Henry, the gardener, take off his rubber boots and put on a black suit. But Daisy had her own car, a red Chevrolet Sport Coupe.

Daisy liked driving, loved the power and speed of it. They headed south out of the city. She was almost sorry it was only five or six miles to the beach.

As she drove she thought about life as Charlie’s wife. With her money and his status they would become the leading couple in Buffalo society. At their dinner parties the table settings would be so elegant that people would gasp in delight. They would have the biggest yacht in the harbour, and throw on-board parties for other wealthy, fun-loving couples. People would yearn for an invitation from Mrs Charles Farquharson. No charity function would be a success without Daisy and Charlie at the top table. In her head she watched a movie of herself, in a ravishing Paris gown, walking through a crowd of admiring men and women, smiling graciously at their compliments.