So far as money and display were concerned, the St. Claires and Mrs.
Atherton had not kept up with Peterkin. On the contrary, as he grew into
society they gradually withdrew, until at last Dolly Tracy had it all
her own way and looked upon herself as the lady _par excellence_ of the
town. She had been to Europe. She had seen the queen; she had had some
dresses made at Worth's; she had picked up a few French words which she
used on all occasions, with but little regard to their appropriateness.
She had decorated a tea set, and was as unlike the Dolly Tracy, who once
did her own work and ate griddle cakes from her own kitchen stove, as a
person well could be. Everything had gone well with her, and scarcely a
sorrow had touched her, for though poor, stupid Jack had slept for five
years in the Tracy lot with only the woman of the Tramp House for
company, he was so near an imbecile when he died that his death was a
blessing rather than otherwise. Tom, with his fine figure, his
fastidious tastes, and aristocratic notions, was the apple of her eye,
and _tout a fait au fait_, she said, when her French fever was at its
height and she wished to impress her hearers with her knowledge of the
language; while, except for her ill-health, and the bad taste she
manifested in her liking for Harold's society, Maude was _tout a fait au
fait_, too.
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