Free Portrait of a Girl by Dörthe Binkert

convince Franz that, since his daughter had to go for a cure, it made sense to make her stay as pleasant as possible. He cared a lot more about luxury than his wife and would have made a similar choice for himself.
    Betsy’s eyes swept the sparsely occupied dining room. She was happy here. The room was elegant and airy; the stucco ceiling and white columns gave it a Mediterranean feel, almost as if she had landed on the Côte d’Azur. And indeed, sunlight was streaming through the windows; it was a glorious day.
    A small, cheerful group of English and American guests were sitting around a table nearby. A slender young man with blond hair caught her attention. He stood out because he was clean-shaven and thus seemed younger than the other men, who had respectable beards. He had just turned to the lady on his right, a petite, pretty blonde who was animatedly whispering something that caused him to look in Betsy and Mathilde’s direction. Catching his glance, Mathilde lowered her eyes.
    Betsy noticed it. “He’s quite good-looking,” she said, all the while calmly looking him up and down. She was aware of the effect she had on people, and in spite of being in semi-mourning, always dressed with a certain flamboyance. She loved large hats and fine fabrics, and slender as she was, it was not particularly difficult to display her small waist. Still, it wasn’t only her wasp waist that attracted the attention of men. There were also her intensely blue eyes, which contrasted so dramatically with her dark hair.
    Betsy had always taken this attention for granted. She herself was the youngest in her family, almost an afterthought, and she had been treated as the family pet much like her niece had been. Aside from her widowhood, she had been largely protected from trouble. Where she and Mathilde differed was in age and experience. Her niece had the advantage of the soft bloom of youth and a somewhat more affectionate nature. Her eyes, in a face framed by blonde curls, were open and inquisitive rather than shrewd and worldly. But Betsy smiled; it would be a mistake to underestimate her niece, she thought. Mathilde knew exactly what she wanted. And it was one of the reasons Betsy liked her so much.
    Kate was the one to draw James’s attention to the two women, after she had introduced her new conquest to her circle of friends.
    “My dear James,” she said, “let me explain something. I would rather you look around at the other tables than here among my friends. You see I’m already keeping a jealous eye on you.” She briefly laid her hand on his arm. “Even though I have no right to you.” She smiled at her husband sitting at the other end of the table, who had just directed a searching look toward James, and tilted her head toward the table where Betsy and Mathilde were sitting. “Have you noticed the two ladies over there? They arrived last night. I wonder whether they’re sisters. The older one is a little too young to be the mother of the other, yet I wouldn’t describe her as untouched by life.” She examined the two women thoroughly and concluded that the older one might prove to be her equal if not superior in appeal, and for that reason she said, “She is trying a little bit too hard to compensate for a lack of youth by her extravagance.” And smiling broadly at James she went on, “It isn’t easy to admit to yourself that after a while, to go on pleasing men, you need a great many other qualities to compete against youth.”
    As she had expected, James picked up on that.
    “What are you talking about, Kate! You know full well how pretty and young you are!” He took her hand in his as if to kiss it. “Don’t act so modest. Because you’re not, and you know it.”
    But Kate lifted her chin indicating the other table and said, “No really. I feel old next to an enchanting young girl like that one over there. Doesn’t she have everything to warm your unattached heart: loveliness, youth, energy, and