Plum Bun by Jessie Redmon Fauset

From the pinnacle of her satisfaction in her studies, in her new friends and in the joke which she was having upon custom and tradition she looked across the classroom at Miss Powell who preserved her attitude of dignified reserve. Angela thought she would try to break it down; on Wednesday she asked the coloured girl to have lunch with her and was pleased to have the invitation accepted. She had no intention of taking the girl up as a matter either of patronage or of loyalty. But she thought it would be nice to offer her the ordinary amenities which their common student life made natural and possible. Miss Powell it appeared ate generally in an Automat or in a cafeteria, but Angela knew of a nice tearoom. "It's rather arty, but they do serve a good meal and it's cheap. " Unfortunately on Wednesday she had to leave before noon; she told Miss Powell to meet her at the little restaurant. "Go in and get a table and wait for me, but I'm sure I'll be there as soon as you will. " After all she was late, but, what was worse, she found to her dismay that Miss Powell, instead of entering the tearoom, had been awaiting her across the street. There were no tables and the two had to wait almost fifteen minutes before being served.

"Why on earth didn't you go in? " asked Angela a trifle impatiently, "you could have held the table. " Miss Powell answered imperturbably: "Because I didn't know how they would receive me if I went in by myself. " Angela could not pretend to misunderstand her. "Oh, I think they would have been all right," she murmured blushing at her stupidity. How quickly she had forgotten those fears and uncertainties. She had never experienced this sort of difficulty herself, but the certainly knew of them from Virginia and others.