Free Happy Is The Bride by Caroline Clemmons Page A

money, you'd think they'd fix up their home and set an example for others. Instead they live out there in that house that's grown all higgledy-piggledy, and they dress like ranch hands. Socialize with them, too. Not at all the proper way for people of substance to act."
    Beth stared at her father. "You mean Mason's par ents have as much money as you do?"
    "Hmph. Reckon they don't know the responsibility wealth carries. Have to set an example."
    "Daddy, I expect they believe they are setting an ex ample. They treat everyone the same and make everyone welcome."
    Mr. Pendleton shook his head. "Not the proper thing, not at all. Have to observe the rules, social order. It's how the country is organized."
    From the top landing, Mrs. Pendleton cleared her throat and started her descent. When Beth turned, she caught her breath. Her mother wore possibly the ugliest dress in all creation. The dark yellow dress of silk brocade turned her mother's beautiful skin a shade resembling someone with severe jaundice.
    The dress hugged her mother's small waist, but her mother swam in yards of Chantilly lace in the same sickening color. Lace epaulets graced the shoulders, and a matching ruffle fell at the end of the long sleeves. Several strands of beaded ribbon hung from the epaulets, and the same beads decorated the front of the brocade vest.
    The expensive lace formed ruffles at her hips and down the front of the dress, and around the base of the skirt. Silk bows decorated the ruffles. The effect was of gaudy and ostentatious excess. Beth's mother looked like a joke, a caricature of bad taste.
    "Mother, that's not the dress that Mr. Henri made for the wedding."
    "I wired Mr. Henri the day you told us of your en gagement to Mason. This arrived by courier only yesterday. It's the very latest thing from Paris." At the bottom of the stairs she held the skirt out. "Mr. Henri insists this color is the rage in Paris and New York. I'll be the only one in Ransom Crossing to have it."
    Everyone in the room stared at Mrs. Pendleton, ap parently each of them rendered speechless by the horrible dress.
    Beth thought Mr. Henri had a lot to answer for and suspected he'd simply found a way to rid himself of unwanted piece goods, probably at an outrageous price. "But, but it's, um, sort of a dried-out mustard."
    "Bethany, what nonsense. Show some breeding even if you are about to become a provincial ranch wife. This color is Imperial Chrysanthemum." Mrs. Pendleton checked her elaborate hairdo in the mirror over a wall table. She turned this way and that admiring herself. "It's new this season, so it's not a color you've seen me wear."
    And thank heavens for that. Beth remembered the tasteful dress she'd chosen to be made for her mother. The color had complemented her mother's hair and set her complexion to glowing. "What about the lovely gray silk with the imported lace trim?"
    Her mother pushed a curl into place. “That? Well, I'll wear it some other time. There'll be plenty of oc casions. Your father and I plan a trip to Europe now that you're to be wed and not in need of us as chaperones." Then she spotted Rachel and narrowed her eyes. She marched over and examined Rachel's dress. "Bethany, surely that's not fabric from your China crepe gown?"
    "Yes, and I think it turned out rather well, don't you? I like it even better than the original."
    Over the yellow cast of her skin, Beth's mother fire red dened with anger. "Do you realize how much that cost? You've ruined a Paris gown to repair one that will never leave the county."
    Tears welled in Rachel's eyes. Beth put her arm around her cousin. "But Rachel looks lovely enough to grace any Paris ballroom, doesn't she?"
    "Hmph, yes, yes." Mr. Pendleton rubbed his hands together. "Well, then, let's get on our way. The carriage is waiting under the portico."
    The women swathed themselves in long cloaks and held their skirts up. With the strong wind blowing out side, Beth bundled her veil under her wrap. Once she