The Third Miss St Quentin

by Mrs. Molesworth

indeed--they'll be just as pleased as pleased, Miss StQuentin especially. If only you knew--No, miss, you can't see thefrock--it's all pinned up neatly, and you must let Jones undo itherself," and Hester laid a protecting hand on the white puffy-lookingpacket she was reserving for the top of the trunk.

  "You cross old thing," said Ella. "However I'll forgive you. I'm toohappy to mind. All the same if my sisters did want me to go, why didn'tthey ask papa--he gave in the moment godmother tackled him?"

  Hester grunted, but said nothing.

  "That reminds me," Ella went on, "I must run in to see papa for amoment, to thank him. You've got all my things in now, Hester. Ihaven't time to change this frock, though I should have liked to,"glancing at her thick grey homespun with contempt; "and besides, mySunday frock--fancy me having come back to Sunday frocks like a goodlittle girl!--is rather the uglier of the two. It is so clumsily made;I'd have _liked_ to take my dark green cashmere that I brought fromauntie's."

  "And catch your death of cold. You forget, Miss Ella, it's a dealcolder here than at Bath, and in a town too it's always warmer."

  "Oh, well, I don't care. I shall come back first thing to-morrowmorning; so it won't matter. Oh, Hester, I am so happy--here, catch,these are my gloves. Yes, I'm sure I've all now."

  And with another series of pirouettes Ella took herself off.

  She flew to her father's room this time.

  "May I come in? Oh, papa, I don't know how to thank you," she cried.And as her father looked up, she seemed to him a transfigured creaturefrom the meek, subdued Ella of the night before. There she stood,radiant and glowing with a delight which one could have fanciedillumined even the dull folds of her grey frock as with sunshine.

  A smile broke over Colonel St Quentin's pale worn face.

  "My poor little girl," he ejaculated involuntarily, "do you really careso much about it?"

  "Of course I do. Oh! you don't know how happy I am. But oh, papa, youdon't think Madelene will mind, do you?"

  Colonel St Quentin's face changed.

  "_Madelene_ mind!" he repeated. "My dear Ella, how extraordinarily youmisapprehend your sister." Just, in other words, what Hester had said.For a moment Ella's face looked grave. If it were the case after allthat Madelene was not to blame? But no--how could it be so? For papa,had been so easy to persuade--was now so plainly enjoying her delight.The girl's expression darkened. Madelene, she felt almost inclined tobelieve, was worse than she had yet imagined. She must be cleverer andmore cunning, thought Ella, not only to keep her in the position shedid, but to make it seem that she wished it otherwise. But thesereflections of course were not to be expressed. And come what would,Ella decided triumphantly, her sister could not deprive her of this oneevening's enjoyment.

  "I'm glad you don't think Madelene will be vexed," she said quietly.

  Colonel St Quentin gave a slight smile. "You must promise me, Ella," hewent on, "to be very nice--biddable and considerate you know, to your--to Lady Cheynes. It is really very good, very good indeed of her totake you. Don't tease her to stay late, or anything of that kind. Isuppose it's all right about your dress--she says so. Now, good-bye, mydear. Enjoy yourself and don't fancy that any one will grudge yourdoing so."

  "Good-bye, papa," said Ella, stooping to kiss him.

  They set off immediately after luncheon. Arrived at Cheynesacre, agreat consultation took place. Jones was fortunately good-natured aswell as skilful--she surveyed the snowy mass which old Hester had packedup so carefully with grave consideration.

  "Yes, my lady," she said, "boolyooners of toole, quite simple, I see.The bodice is complete, luckily. Well--if Harriet can work with me--Harriet is a handy girl, I don't see but that it may be ready by eighto'clock--or even a little sooner."

  "Sooner, decidedly," said Lady Cheynes, "we must start at half-pasteight. It's a long drive and of course an early dance. You must havesome white flowers Ella--not a bouquet, but a spray or two on thebodice. And was there not something else you needed?"

  "Shoes, godmother. I have no white ones."

  "Oh, to be sure. What do you think, Jones, could we get a decent pairat Weevilscoombe?"

  Jones shook her wise head.

  "Then--run down stairs, Ella, and ring for the head-gardener to speak tome in the conservatory. I will follow you immediately."

  Five minutes later, the old lady entered the drawing-room with a small,carefully enveloped parcel in her hand. There was a look in her facethat Ella had never seen there before--a look which in a younger womanwould have been accentuated by tears in her eyes. But old age weepsrarely and painfully. Lady Cheynes' bright, dark eyes were undimmed,yet they had a very tender light in them as she unfolded the packet.

  "Look, child," she said. "Here is a pair of slippers which I littlethought would ever have danced again. They belonged to my own child.You have never heard of her of course. She would have been an old womanin your eyes, had she been alive still. They were the last whiteslippers she ever wore; you see they are perfectly clean, only yelloweda little with age, in spite of my blue paper!"

  Ella took them carefully and admiringly in her hands. They were verydainty little shoes, and on the front of each sparkled an old-fashionedbuckle.

  "How pretty they are!" said the girl. "Are these diamonds, godmother?"and she touched the buckles.

  "No, they would be too valuable in that case to be left stitched on theslippers," Lady Cheynes replied. "They are only old paste, but verygood old paste. I gave them to Clarice to wear at the fancy dress ballshe got the shoes for, and they were old even then. You see the shoeshave high heels, Ella, which suits them for present fashions rather toowell, in my opinion. That was because they were for a fancy dress.When Clarice was a girl, high heels were not worn. Now try them on,child--I only hope they are not too small."

  Ella slipped off her own shoe and drew on one of the white ones withoutthe least difficulty.

  "Do they fit you?" asked Lady Cheynes quickly, "Quite; perfectly," saidElla, proceeding to try the second slipper. "The left foot is perhaps,yes, just a trifle too large," she went on. "You see they are both_easy_, and my left foot is a little tiny bit smaller than my right--andthen I have thicker stockings on than in the evening. But I am surethey will do, godmother, beautifully; and it is so _very_ good of you."

  Lady Cheynes stooped to look at the little feet in their motley clothingof red stockings and white shoes.

  "Humph," she said, with a mingling of admiration and contrariety in hervoice, "humph--I thought Clarice's feet the smallest that ever wereseen. You can put a bit of cotton-wool in the toes if you like, Ella."

  "Oh, no, thank you, they're not as bad as that," said Ella, jumping up."I can dance in them splendidly--I _feel_ I can," and she gave herself atwirl or two. "Oh, dear godmother," she went on, "I can scarcelybelieve that I'm going. I really _can't_." Jones and the handy Harrietworked their best. Before eight o'clock all was ready, and Ella stoodarrayed for her godmother's inspection.

  "Very nice, yes, very nice," said the old lady. "Put out your foot,Ella--yes, there won't be another pair of shoes and shoe-buckles likethose, there. Now, what have you to put on over you? No! no," as Ellaheld up a gauzy mantle or shawl, "that's not half enough. You must havesomething over that. My dark-brown fur-lined cloak, Jones, will be thevery thing. You are not used to a long drive in winter such as we shallhave to-night. And it is freezing now, I hear--the roads are gettingslippery. We cannot go fast."

  "You must have plenty of hot-water bottles, my lady," said Jones, as shereturned with the cloak. "And I'll tell Henry to be sure and have themfilled again to come home with."

  "We shall not stay so late as all that," the old lady replied."However, it will do no harm to speak to Henry. What are you makingsuch grimaces about, Ella?"

  "The cloak, godmother. It is so awfully heavy--I am afraid it willcrush me dreadfully, and see, it quite trails on the floor. Don't youthink, in the warm carriage--if I doubled my shawl?"r />
  "No, nonsense," said Lady Cheynes, decidedly. "That cloak is the properthing. You can shake yourself out when you get there. Good tulle iselastic," and she turned away inexorably.

  It was a long drive--longer than Ella had realised. And it was so coldoutside that the carriage windows had to be kept up the whole way, notadmitting a breath of air; and they quickly became so opaque that evenif the night had been brighter and clearer than it was, Ella could haveseen