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The Disagreeable Woman
The Disagreeable Woman / A Social Mystery
"Our acts our angels are, or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still."—Fletcher.
CHAPTER I.
A SOCIAL MYSTERY
"If I live till next July, I shall be twenty-nine years old," simpered the young widow, and she looked around the table, as if to note the effect of such an incredible statement.
"You look much older," said the Disagreeable Woman, looking up from her tea and buttered toast.
There was a general silence, and the boarders noted with curiosity the effect of this somewhat unceremonious remark.
Mrs. Wyman, the young widow, flushed and directed an angry and scornful look at the last speaker.
"I am sure I am very much obliged to you," she said.
"You are quite welcome," said the Disagreeable Woman, calmly.
"You look older than I do," said the widow, sharply.
"Very possibly," said the Disagreeable Woman, not at all excited.
"Do you mind telling us how old you are?"
"Not at all! I have reached the age—"