When Washington Was in Vogue

by Williams, Edward Christopher; McKible, Adam; Bernard, Emily; McKible, Adam

• ISBN13: 9780060555450
• ISBN10: 0060555459
• Edition: 1st
• Format: Hardcover
• Copyright: 2003-12-17
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publications

Summary

A newly discovered novel written and set during the Harlem Renaissance--published here, in book form, for the first time.

Excerpts

When Washington Was in Vogue
A Love Story

Chapter One

In which Davy, having arrived in Vanity Fair, looks for lodgings and finds a home.

Washington, D.C., Monday, October 2, 1922

Dear Bob:

You certainly were right when you advised me to wait until I found just what I wanted. I was getting impatient and I should have taken the place on T Street, if it had not been for your letter. So I decided to hold out a few days longer, and my waiting has been rewarded, for I have found the best place imaginable. This self-congratulation may seem a little premature, but somehow I do not think it is. My good luck came from an unexpected source, too.

I called on the Wallaces the other night, and in the midst of a very interesting conversation Mrs. Wallace happened to ask me if I were located satisfactorily. I told her my troubles, and gave her an idea as to what I wanted. She reflected a minute, and then said she thought she could help me out. So she excused herself and, while Wallace and I talked and smoked, I could hear her in the next room telephoning. After a while she returned and handed me a note. I glanced at the envelope and noted that it was inscribed to a Mrs. Margaret Rhodes, at an address just around the corner from the T Street house I was considering. So I went there the next afternoon at about five. I was met at the door by a handsome, rather stately young woman with a very dignified manner, who ushered me into the back parlor, where I was asked to have a seat. She left me for a moment, but reappeared almost immediately to say that her mother would see me in a few minutes. She then returned to the parlor, where she was entertaining a lady caller.

Thus left to my own devices, I took the opportunity to look about me, and to say that I was delighted with what I saw expresses it mildly. Rarely have I seen a room -- it was evidently a library-living room -- that I have liked better. Solid, substantial furniture, walls lined with bookcases filled with good books, and more good pictures and art objects, well selected and in the best of taste, than I have seen in an ordinary home for a long time. Nothing seemed new, but, on the contrary, everything showed signs of use, and looked as if it were an integral part of the room. An open fireplace, in which a fire was laid ready for lighting, gave the final touch of coziness. To say I was charmed is putting it mildly. Mrs. Rhodes, when she entered, seemed quite in place in the picture. She is an attractive, motherly person of quiet manners and refined speech. My mind was made up the moment I saw her and I was afraid only that she might refuse me. In fear and trembling, so to speak, I gave her Mrs. Wallace’s note. She read the note attentively, and then arose and offered me her hand.

"I am pleased to meet any friend of the Wallaces, Mr. Carr. I was not planning to take anyone else," she continued. "We have one lodger, and we have just begun to get used to him. You see, we never had anyone in the house except our own family while Mr. Rhodes was alive, and it is hard to break old habits. What Mrs. Wallace says puts a different face on it, of course. Mr. Rhodes knew your people well, I believe. I have heard him speak often of your father." She hesitated, and looked at me again smilingly. "We have only one room available, and I don't like to think of renting it. It was Mr. Rhodes's private den." Again she hesitated, and again she looked at me. "Well, let's look at it, anyway, since you are here."She arose, and I followed her -- two flights of stairs to the third-floor back. The room itself finished me, and I decided then and there that I must have it. It was appointed to suit me exactly -- wallcases, couch, table, revolving bookcase and all.

"This is just what I want," I said. "If only you will let me have it, I promise you I shan't give you a bit of trouble. I am a quiet person, and you won't know I am here."

To make a long story short, the good lady agreed to take me in, and I hastened to clinch the bargain by paying my first month's rental, which was most reasonable, and making immediate arrangements for the moving in of my traps.

As we reached the lower hall, the young woman who had let me in was just taking leave of her visitor. As she turned from the door, Mrs. Rhodes called her.

"Genevieve, let me present Mr. Carr. Mr. Carr, this is my daughter, Miss Rhodes."

That dignified young person received the introduction with a cool graciousness which was a curious mixture of perfect courtesy and impersonal indifference.

Then Mrs. Rhodes explained my errand, told who I was, and otherwise oriented me for the benefit of the handsome young woman with the coldly gracious manner, who withdrew as soon as she could do so without too much abruptness.

So two days later I moved in, and had a rather enjoyable time unpacking my books, and bestowing my belongings properly. All is now in order, and I hope sincerely that I am settled for the winter. Somehow I feel that I am going to like this place. The house is certainly homelike and attractive, and the Rhodes family are surely "easy on the eyes," for they have as high an average of good looks as any household I have seen in many a day. Mrs. Rhodes must have been a belle in her youth, and she is still good looking, with the dearest, most motherly manner in the world;

When Washington Was in Vogue
A Love Story. Copyright © by Edward Williams. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

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Excerpted from When Washington Was in Vogue: A Love Story by Edward Christopher Williams
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.