Miss Jelliffe scribbled away. Now groups of two and three together began to surge into the room: Mrs. Hughes, wife of the Universalist minister, Mrs. Munger, wife of a prominent attorney, Mrs. George S. Collins, wife of the rich grain and hog merchant, Alfreda Mitchell, who, during the winter months, taught Maple Valley children the waltz, the two-step, and the schottische, all the plain and fancy dances, Katie Pearl, who taught china-painting, Mrs. Atkinson, and her two daughters, Gladys and Doris, the Atkinson twins, the Misses Spencer, whose father had been in the lumber business and whose death had left these orphan spinsters well-provided for, Mrs. Monroe, who, it was said, was writing a novel, and of whom this had been said for fifteen years; moreover, it was true; Mrs. Judge Porter, Miss Hurok, the Bohemian banker's daughter, Mabel Crandall, daughter of the Episcopalian Rector, and a great many more.
At a quarter of six, Mrs. Townsend, the acknowledged leader of Maple Valley society, accompanied by her sister, Mrs. Wiltbank, arrived. She was an extremely tall woman, towering over her companion, with a beak-like nose, shaggy eyebrows, and a well-defined, black moustache. She was fashionably attired in a gown of navy blue foulard with a satin bolero jacket, a costume which the Countess decided at once must have been purchased in Chicago.
