What Meets the Eye...

Hallie was standing in her best friend, Emily’s, hall. She looked around herself. No matter how many times she was there, she couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with the splendor that was Emily’s house. There was paintings hanging on the walls, there was statues standing in the corners, and the chandelier hanging over her head made the impression final; this family was way too rich. But it didn’t really bother her, because as one of the few people Emily’s parents approved of, she sure got her fair share of benefits. “Hallie!” a voice called at her. It was Emily’s mother, Mrs. Charles who was walking towards her. “How delighted I am to see you,” she smiled. As normal when greeting the girl, she hugged her and kissed her on the cheeks the French way, a gesture Hallie was never really comfortable with. “Yes, Ma’am, I am very pleased to meet you too,” Hallie answered politely. She always had to pick up her act when setting foot in her friend’s house. “Emily!” Mrs. Charles shouted. “Your friend is here.” Hallie heard footsteps from above, which meant Emily was racing down the stairs. “Oh, my dear, have you seen our new Picasso?” Mrs. Charles said lovingly, and gestured to a painting hanging on the wall next to a majestic mirror. Hallie had in fact noticed the painting, but not really given it much thought. “Oh yes,” Hallie answered sweetly, “It’s very beautiful. Where did you get it?”
”We bought it at an auction house when we were in London last week. The price was awfully steep, but it’s worth it when you get to have this treasure on the wall, right?” Mrs. Charles said and smiled. “Indeed,” Hallie answered politely. She didn’t agree one ounce, obviously, any painting costing more than 100 quid was stupidity, according to her. “Hallie!” Emily shouted as she jumped of the last steps on the stairs, startling her fragile mother. “It’s so good to see you!” Emily flung herself around Hallie’s neck, and Hallie hugged back. “I missed you,” Hallie smiled. Emily had been a week in London, and for the two girls, a week was way too long. “How was it?” she asked. Mrs. Charles had left the room, right after sending Emily a disapproving look. Just as she was a fan of overpriced and ugly paintings, she was also a fan of peace and quite. You could never hear music in the big house.
“Oh, it was awfully dull,” Emily said as she pulled her shoes onto her feet. All we did was visit churches, go to antique stores and those stupid auctions! I barely even got to set foot in Oxford Street,” she said, glumly. “Oh, poor baby,” Hallie answered mockingly. “What a tragedy it must have been.” Emily laughed and pushed Hallie. “Oh, and did you see that ghastly new picture mother have bought?” Emily asked. Hallie nodded, making a grimace that told Emily exactly what she thought of the beloved Picasso. “It cost us 100 000 pounds,” Emily added. Hallie’s eyes widened. She knew Picasso was one of the greatest painters of all time, but she refused to believe anyone would be dumb enough to think that a mix of shapes was worth 100 000 pounds. Apparently, she was wrong.