by L. T. Meade
Then hebegan to scold about the expenses incurred during Jack's illness, and mymother, weak and low already, put her handkerchief up to her eyes andwept.
In the midst of our tribulation a letter arrived from Hetty, in whichshe begged and implored me, for the love of Heaven, to send her a postalorder for a couple of sovereigns by return of post.
This letter of Hetty's was the last drop. What _did_ it matter about meand my feelings, and my righteous pride, and all the holy instincts ofmy youth? There was my mother to be saved, my home to be relieved, mypoor little new sister to be comforted and made happy. I rushed out ofthe room and wrote a frantic letter to Hetty. I could not send her themoney, but I could send her hope. I did. I sent it flying to her onthe wings of her Majesty's post. Then I wrote to Lady Ursula, andapologised for not keeping my appointment at the Chamber of Myths thatday. I said that Cousin Geoffrey's letter was of a very startlingcharacter, and that it was impossible for me to disclose its contents toany one at present. I spoke to Lady Ursula affectionately and in asisterly spirit, and I sent my kind regards to her intended husband,Captain Valentine. I paused and even blushed as I considered whatmessage I could forward to my cousin Tom. After careful reflection Ifelt that I could say nothing about him. He was the thorn in my lot atpresent, and I felt that I owed him an enormous grudge, and that Ishould have liked very much to hate him. But when I remembered hisextremely honest expression, his bluntness and downrightness, I couldnot quite manage to get up a feeling of hatred to a man who was reallyin himself quite innocent.
Finally I wrote to Mr Gray, and told him that I would present myself athis villa in Putney to-morrow.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
MY MOTHER'S WEDDING-DRESS.
Never did a girl prepare for a gay visit with a sadder heart. I had notan idea what I was going to. Mr Gray was rich, and I felt certain thathis villa was what my father would term "pretentious." By this would bemeant that he had large rooms instead of small, good furniture insteadof shabby, good meals instead of bad, and in the place of loneliness andgloom, brightness and company.
This I was sure of, for Mr Gray's eyes sparkled as if he lived well andcheerily, and the pleasant sunshine of hospitality shone all over hisexpressive features.
I was going to a gay house then--a "company" house.
I ran down-stairs early the next morning and told my mother of myinvitation, and of my acceptance of it.
She seemed a little surprised, then, after a pause, she said she waspleased.
"Go, and have a good time, Rosamund," she said; "it is quite right thatgirls should enjoy themselves; but oh! my love," an anxious shadowcoming across her face, "what have you got to wear?"
"Plenty of things, mother," I retorted, "lashin's and lavin's, as theysay in Ireland."
"But you have no evening dress, Rose. At Mr Gray's the girls are sureto dress for the evening."
"Oh, I can manage," I said.
"But you have _not_ got an evening dress, my darling; all the girls willhave evening dresses."
"One girl must do without," I retorted in a stout voice which concealedmany qualms of the heart.
"One girl must _not_ do without," replied my mother. "Come with me,Rosamund. Rose, did I ever show you my wedding-dress?"
My mother laughed gaily; her eyes were bright.
"I did not know your wedding-dress was in existence, mother," I said.
"Yes, it is, and well preserved," she replied. "Come up-stairs with me,and you shall see it."
I followed my mother into her bedroom. She unlocked a great squarewooden trunk, which stood in one of the windows, and laying aside manyfolds of tissue paper, took from the depths of the trunk a brocaded silkdress of heavy make and rich texture. She laid the dress on the bed,and looked at me with pink spots on each of her cheeks.
"There!" she said; "there! Geoffrey gave me the dress, and he saw me init. You may suppose that Geoffrey knew how to choose good things. Youcould not buy silk like that now. Geoffrey pinned a rosebud just here.Do you notice the tiny, yellow stain? And then he kissed me on myforehead. We were good friends that day, although Geoffrey, dearGeoffrey, had a strange look in his eyes. I remembered the lookafterwards; but we were good friends, very great and affectionatefriends. I never saw him again--never. Well, Rosamund, what do youthink of your mother's wedding-dress?"
I was examining it all over. It was quaint in make, and the silk hadthe faint yellow tinge which years of lying by always produces. Thesleeves were high and puffed. There was a ruffle of very soft andexquisite lace round the V-shaped body. The waist was long, with apointed stomacher, and the skirt below was full and wide.
Never was there a dress less like the mode in vogue at the time of whichI write.
"The dress is out of date, perhaps, but it is very good in itself," saidmy mother. "It will fit you, Rosamund, for your figure is small anddainty, like mine used to be. Will you wear your mother'swedding-dress, even if it is a little out of the fashion?"
"Yes, I will wear it," I said. "Give it to me, and I will take it awaywith me."
"But you must have other things to match," said my mother. "Wait amoment; you must have other things to suit the dress."
She rushed again to her trunk; she looked like a girl in her excitement.
"These are my wedding--shoes," she said, "and these white silk stockingsgo with the shoes. This petticoat, with the deep embroidery, will haveto be worn under the full skirt of the dress. Oh, Rose, how glad I amnow that I did not cut this petticoat up! Rose, I should like to seeyou dressed for your first dinner-party!"
I kissed my mother, gathered up the poor old-world mementoes of lostyouth and love, and ran away to my own room. I took with me on my visita larger trunk than I had at first intended, for my mother's weddingsilk must not be crushed or injured.
I arrived at the Grays' house about an hour before dinner.
The villa was less of a villa and more of a mansion than even I hadimagined. There was a wide entrance hall, and an open roof overhead,and a square well-staircase, which opened on to galleries which led tothe bedrooms. The spring light had nearly faded when I arrived at thehouse, but the soft and cheerful blaze of coloured lamps gave thebrightest and most picturesque effect. There were flowers everywhere,and vistas of pretty things from open doorways, and little peeps of wideconservatories, and a distant faint clatter of glasses and silver in thefar-off dining-room.
Mr Gray came out himself to bid me welcome. He was followed by hiswife and two daughters, Nettie and Tottie. Nettie and Tottie were roundand fat and fair and insignificant-looking. Mrs Gray was also roundand fat, but she had a matronly dignity about her, and a comfortable,homely manner which made me take to her at once.
After Mr Gray had shaken me warmly by both my hands, Mrs Gray kissedme, and Nettie and Tottie came up, each to one side of me, and in thismanner I was conveyed across the hall, and into a cheerful littleboudoir, where three anxious women's voices pressed hot tea and butteredcakes on my notice.
I drank my tea and ate hot muffins, and felt that the pleasant andluxurious surroundings of my present habitation suited me uncommonlywell. After staring at me for half a minute Tottie made an abruptobservation.
"Two or three people are coming to dinner," she said; "only gentlemen,however, friends of papa's."
"Oh, Tottie!" exclaimed Nettie, giving her sister a knowing look."Friends of papa's indeed! What next? Are they _all_ only papa'sfriend's?"
Tottie shrugged her shoulders--she looked pleased and conscious--perhapsshe expected me to quiz her; but that was not at all the kind of thing Ifelt capable of doing.
"Some gentlemen are coming to dinner," resumed Tottie, after anexpectant pause, "so perhaps you would like to come up to your room ingood time to dress, Miss Lindley?"
I assented at once.
"I shall be very glad to go to my room," I said.
Tottie preceded me up the shallow stairs. She ushered me into a largebedroom supplied with every modern comfort. It w
as getting well on intoApril now, but a bright fire burnt in the grate, and the room wasfurther rendered cheerful with electric light. I had the key of myold-fashioned trunk in my pocket, so it was not yet unpacked; but to mysurprise two dinner dresses lay on the bed. One was of soft creamysilk; the other pink, a kind of almost transparent muslin. Both weresimple in outline and graceful. Even a brief glance showed me that theywere exquisitely finished, and must have cost a large sum. Beside thedresses lay gloves, a fan, small shoes, and delicate openwork stockings.In a box were some beautiful freshly-arranged flowers, a spray for thehair, and another for the front of the dress.
"Oh dear, dear!" exclaimed Tottie. She rushed to the bed and stoodsilent, the colour mounting high into her cheeks.
