Vagabondia

by Frances Hodgson Burnett

  CHAPTER II ~ IN THE CAMPS OF THE PHILISTINES.

  A TOILET in Vagabondia was an event. Not an ordinary toilet, of course,but a toilet extraordinary,--such as is necessarily called forth by somefestive gathering or unusual occasion. It was also an excitement aftera manner, and not a disagreeable one. It made demands upon the inventiveand creative powers of the whole family, and brought to light hiddenresources. It also aroused energy, and, being a success, was rejoicedover as a brilliant success. Respectability might complacently retireto its well-furnished chamber, and choose serenely from its unlimitedsupply of figurative purple and legendary fine linen, without finding asituation either dramatic or amusing; but in Vagabondia this was not thecase. Having contrived to conjure up, as it were, from the secret placesof the earth an evening dress, are not gloves still necessary? and,being safe as regards gloves, do not the emergencies of the toiletcall for minor details seemingly unimportant, but still not to be donewithout? Finding this to be the case, the household of Crewe rallied allits forces upon such occasions, and set aside all domestic arrangementsfor the time being. It was not impossible that Dolly should haveprepared for a rejoicing without the assistance of Mollie and Aimée,Mrs. Phil and Tod, with occasional artistic suggestions from Phil andany particular friend of the family who chanced to be below-stairs,within hearing distance. It might not have appeared an impossibility, Ishould say, to ordinary people, but the household of Crewe regardedit as such, and accordingly, on the night of the Bilberry gathering,accompanied Dolly in a body to her tiring-room.

  Upon the bed lay the merino dress, white, modest, and untrimmed,save for the swan’s-down accompaniments, but fitting to a shade andexhibiting an artistic sweep of train.

  “It is a discreet sort of garment,” said Dolly, by way of comment;“and it is ‘suitable to our social position.’ Do you remember whenLady Augusta said that about my black alpaca, girls? Pleasant littleobservation, was n’t it? ‘Toinette, I trust hair-pins are not injuriousto infantile digestive organs. If they are, perhaps it would be as wellto convince Tod that such is the case. What is the matter, Mollie?”

  Mollie, leaning upon the dressing-table in her favorite attitude, waslooking rather discontented. She was looking very pretty, also, it mightbe said. Her sleepy, warm brown eyes, being upraised to Dolly, showedlarger and warmer and browner than usual; the heavy brown locks,tumbling down over her shoulders, caught a sort of brownish, copperyshade in the flare of gas-light; there was a flush on her soft cheeks,and her ripe lips were curved in a lovely dissatisfaction. Hence Dolly’sremark.

  “I wish I was going,” said the child.

  Dolly’s eyes flew open wide, in a very sublimity of astonishment.

  “Wish you were going?” she echoed. “To the Bilberrys’?”

  Mollie nodded.

  “Yes, even there. I want to go somewhere. I think I should enjoy myselfa little anywhere. I should like to see the people, and hear them talk,and find out what they do, and wear an evening dress.”

  Dolly gazed at her in mingled pity and bewilderment.

  “Mollie,” she said, “you are very innocent; and I always knew you werevery innocent; but I did not know you were as innocent as this,--soutterly free from human guile that you could imagine pleasure in aBilberry rejoicing. And I believe,” still regarding her with thatquestioning pity, “--I believe you really _could_. I must keep an eye onyou, Mollie. You are too unsophisticated to be out of danger.”

  It was characteristic of her good-natured sympathy for the girl that itshould occur to her the next minute that perhaps it might please her tosee herself donned even in such modest finery as the white merino. Sheunderstood her simple longings after unattainable glories so thoroughly,and she was so ready to amuse her to the best of her ability. So shesuggested it.

  “Put it on, Mollie,” she said, “and let us see how you would look in it.I should like to see you in full dress.”

  The child rose with some faint stir of interest in her manner and wentto the bed.

  “It wouldn’t be long enough for me if it wasn’t for the train,” shesaid; “but the train will make it long enough nearly, and I can pull ittogether at the waist.”

  She put it on at the bedside, and then came forward to the toilet-table;and Dolly, catching sight of her in the glass as she advanced, turnedround with a start.

  Standing in the light; the soft heavy white folds draping themselvesabout her statuesque curves of form as they might have draped themselvesabout the limbs of some young marble Grace or Goddess, with her whitearms and shoulders uncovered, with her unchildish yet youthful face,with her large-irised eyes, her flush of momentary pleasure and halfawkwardness, she was just a little dazzling, and Dolly did not hesitateto tell her so.

  “You are a beauty, Mollie,” she said. “And you are a woman in thatdress. If you were only a Bilberry now, what a capital your face wouldbe to you, and what a belle you would be!”

  Which remarks, if indiscreet, were affectionate, and made in perfectgood faith.

  But when, having donned the merino herself, she made her way down thedark staircase to the parlor, there was a vague ghost of uneasiness inher mind, and it was the sight of Mollie in full dress which had arousedit.

  “She is so very pretty,” she said to herself. “I scarcely knew how verypretty she was until I turned round from the glass to look at her. Whata pity it is that we are not rich enough to do her justice, and let herenjoy herself as other girls do. And--and,” with a little sigh, “I amafraid we are a dreadfully careless lot. I wonder if Phil ever thinksabout it? And she is so innocent and ignorant too. I hope she won’t fallin love with anybody disreputable. I wish I knew how to take care ofher.”

  And yet when she went into the parlor to run the gauntlet of familyinspection, and walked across the floor to show the sweep of her train,and tried her little opera hood on Tod before putting it on herself, acasual observer would certainly have decided that she had never hada serious thought in her life. Griffith was there, of course. Atsuch times his presence was considered absolutely necessary, and hisadmiration was always unbounded. His portion it was to tuck her underhis arm and lead her out to the cab when the train and wraps werearranged and the hood put on. This evening, when he had made hercomfortable and shut the door, she leaned out of the window at the lastmoment to speak to him.

  “I forgot to tell you, Griffith,” she said, “Lady Augusta said somethingabout a Mr. Gowan to Mr. Bilberry the other day when she invited me. Iwonder if it is the Gowan you were telling me about? He is to be thereto-night.”

  “Of course it is,” answered Griffith, with sudden discontent. “He isjust the sort of fellow the Bilberrys would lionize.”

  It was rather incorrect of Dolly to feel, as she did, a sudden flashof anticipation. She could not help it. This intense appreciation of anovel or dramatic encounter with an eligible Philistine was her greatweakness, and she made no secret of it even with her lover, which wasunwise if frank.

  She gave her fan a wicked flirt, and her eyes flashed as she did it.

  “A mine of valuable information lies unexplored before me,” she said.“I must make minute inquiries concerning the habits and peculiarities ofthe people of the East. I shall take the lion in tow, and Lady Augusta’shappiness will be complete.”

  Griffith turned pale--his conquering demon was jealousy.

  “Look here, Dolly,” he began.

  But Dolly settled herself in her seat again, and waved her hand with anair of extreme satisfaction. She did not mean to make him miserable,and would have been filled with remorse if she had quite understood theextent of the suffering she imposed upon him sometimes merely throughher spirit, and the daring onslaughts she made upon people for whom shecared little or nothing. She understood his numerous other peculiaritiespretty thoroughly, but she did not understand his jealousy, for thesimple reason that she had never been jealous in her life.

  “Tell the cabman to drive on,” she said, with a flourish. “There is balmto be found even in Bilberry
.”

  And when the man drove on she composed herself comfortably in a cornerof the vehicle, in perfect unconsciousness of the fact that she had lefta thorn behind, rankling in the bosom of the poor fellow who watched herfrom the pavement.

  She was rather late, she found, on reaching her destination. The parlorswere full, and the more enterprising of the guests were beginning togroup themselves in twos and threes, and make spasmodic efforts atconversation. But conversation at a Bilberry assemblage was rarely asuccess,--it was so evident that to converse was a point of etiquette,and it was so patent that conversation was expected from everybody,whether they had anything to say or not.

  Inoffensive individuals of retiring temperament, being introduced toeach other solemnly and with ceremony, felt that to be silent was to beguilty of a glaring breach of Bilberry decorum, and, casting about inmental agony for available remarks, found none, and were overwhelmedwith amiable confusion. Lady Augusta herself, in copper-colored silk ofthe most unbending quality and make, was not conducive to cheerfulness.Yet Dolly’s first thought on catching sight of her this evening was acheerful if audacious one.

  “She looks as if she was dressed in a boiler,” she commented, inwardly.“I wonder if I shall ever live so long--I wonder if I ever _could_ livelong enough to submit to a dress like that. And yet she seems to bealmost happy in the possession of it. But, I dare say, that is theresult of conscious virtue.”

  It was a very fortunate thing for Dolly that she was not easilydiscomposed. Most girls entering a room full of people, evidentlyunemployed, and in consequence naturally prone to not too charitablecriticism of new-comers, might have lost self-possession. Not so DollyCrewe. Being announced, she came in neither with unnecessary hurry nortimidly, and with not the least atom of shrinking from the eyes turnedtoward her; and, simple and unassuming a young person as she appearedon first sight, more than one pair of eyes in question found themselvesattracted by the white merino, the white shoulders, the elaboratetresses, and the serene, innocent-looking orbs.

  Lady Augusta advanced slightly to meet her, with a grewsome rustling ofcopper-colored stiffness. She did not approve of Dolly at any time, butshe specially disapproved of her habit of setting time at defiance andignoring the consequences.

  “I am very glad to see you,” she said, with the air of a potentateissuing a proclamation. “I _thought_”--somewhat severely--“that you werenot coming at all.”

  “Did you?” remarked Dolly, with tranquillity.

  “Yes,” returned her ladyship. “And I could not understand it. It is nineo’clock now, and I _believe_ I mentioned eight as the hour.”

  “I dare say you did,” said Dolly, unfurling her small downy fan, andusing it with much serene grace; “but I wasn’t ready at eight. I hopeyou are very well.”

  “Thank you,” replied her ladyship, icily. “I am very well. Will yougo and take a seat by Euphemia? I allowed her to come into the roomto-night, and I notice that her manner is not so self-possessed as Ishould wish.”

  Dolly gave a little nod of acquiescence, and looked across the roomto where the luckless Euphemia sat edged in a corner behind a row ofpainfully conversational elderly gentlemen, who were struggling withthe best intentions to keep up a theological discourse with the Rev.Marmaduke. Euphemia was the eldest Miss Bilberry. She was overgrownand angular, and suffered from chronic embarrassment, which was notalleviated by the eye of her maternal parent being upon her. She was oneof Dolly’s pupils, and cherished a secret but enthusiastic admirationfor her. And, upon the whole, Dolly was fond of the girl. She wasgood-natured and unsophisticated, and bore the consciousness of herphysical and mental imperfections with a humility which was almosttouching to her friend sometimes. Catching Dolly’s eye on this occasion,she glanced at her imploringly, and then, catching the eye of hermother, blushed to the tips of her ears, and relapsed into secretanguish of mind.

  But Dolly, recognizing her misery, smiled reassuringly, and made herway across the room to her, insinuating herself through the theologicalphalanx.

  “I am so glad you are here at last,” said the girl. “I was so afraidyou would n’t come. And oh, how nice you look, and how beautifully youmanage your train! I could never do it in the world. I should be sureto tumble over it. But nothing ever seems to trouble you at all. Youhaven’t any idea how lovely you were when you went across the room tomamma. Everybody looked at you, and I don’t wonder at it.”

  “They would have looked at anybody,” answered Dolly, laughing. “They hadnothing else to do.”

  “That is quite true, poor things,” sighed Euphemia, sympathetically.“You don’t know the worst yet, either. You don’t know how stupid theyare and can be, Dolly. That old gentleman near the screen has not spokenone word yet, and he keeps sighing and wiping the top of his bald headwith his pocket-handkerchief until I can’t keep my eyes off him, and Iam afraid he has noticed me. I don’t mean any harm, I’m sure, but I havegot nothing to do myself, and I can’t help it. But what I was going tosay was, that people looked at you as they did not look at others whocame in. You seem different some way. And I’m sure that Mr. Gowan ofmamma’s has been staring at you until it is positively rude of him.”

  Dolly’s slowly moving fan became stationary for a moment.

  “Mr. Gowan,” she said. “Who is Mr. Gowan?”

  “One of mamma’s people,” answered Euphemia, “though I’m sure I can’tquite understand how he can be one of them. He looks so different fromthe rest. He is very rich, you know, and very aristocratic, and hastravelled a great deal He has been all over the world, they say. Therehe is at that side-table.”

  Dolly’s eyes, travelling round the assemblage with complacentindifference, rested at last on the side-table where the subject ofEuphemia’s remarks sat.

  He really was an eligible Philistine, it seemed, despite Griffith’sunflattering description of him.

  He was a long-limbed, graceful man, with an aquiline face and superbeyes, which at this moment were resting complacently upon Dolly herself.It was not exactly admiration, either, which they expressed, it wassomething of a more entertaining nature, at least so Dolly found it,--itwas nothing more nor less than a slowly awakening interest in her whichpaid her the compliment of rising above the surface of evident boredomand overcoming lassitude. It looked as if he was just beginning to studyher, and found the game worth the candle. Dolly met his glance withsteadiness, and as she met it she measured him. Then she turned toEuphemia again and fluttered the fan slowly and serenely.

  “He’s nice, is n’t he?” commented the guileless Phemie. “If the rest ofthem were like him, I don’t think we should be so stupid, but as it is,you know, he can’t talk when there is nobody to talk to.”

  “No,” said Dolly. “One could hardly expect it of him. But I wonder whyhe does not say something to that thin lady in the dress-cap.”

  “Oh, dear!” exclaimed Phemie, “I don’t wonder in the least. That is MissBerenice MacDowlas, Dolly.”

  “Miss Berenice MacDowlas!” echoed Dolly, with a start. “You don’t sayso?”

  “Yes,” answered Euphemia. “Do you know her? You spoke as if you did.”

  “Well--yes--no,” answered Dolly, with a half laugh. “I should say I knowsomebody who does.”

  And she looked as if she was rather enjoying some small joke of her own.The fact was that Miss MacDowlas was no other than Griffith’s amiableaunt. But, of course, it would not have done to tell this to EuphemiaBilberry. Euphemia’s ideas on the subject of the tender passion wereas yet crude and unformed, and Dolly Crewe was not prone to sentimentalconfidences, so, as yet, Euphemia and indeed the whole Bilberry family,remained in blissful ignorance of the very existence of such a person asMr. Griffith Donne.

  If personal appearance was to be relied upon, Miss MacDowlas was not apromising subject for diplomatic beguiling.

  “We have no need to depend upon her,” was Dolly’s mental decision. “Oneglimpse of life in Vagabondia would end poor Griffith’s chances withher. I wond
er what she would think if she could see Tod in all his glorywhen ‘Toinette and Phil are busy painting.”

  And her vivid recollection of the personal adornments of Tod at suchtimes brought a smile to her lips.

  She made herself very comfortable in her corner, and, exerting herselfto her utmost to alleviate Euphemia’s sufferings, succeeded so farthat the girl forgot everything else but her enjoyment of her friend’scaustic speeches and satirical little jokes. Dolly was not afraid ofresults, and, standing in due awe of public opinion, gave herself up tothe encouraging of any shadow of amusement quite heartily. She was soentertaining in a small way upon this occasion, that Euphemia’s frame ofmind became in some degree ecstatic. From her place of state acrossthe room, Lady Augusta regarded them with disapproval. It was so veryevident that they were enjoying themselves, and that this shockingDorothea Crewe was not to be suppressed. (Dorothea, be it known, wasDolly’s baptismal name, and Lady Augusta held to its full pronunciationas a matter of duty.) It was useless, however, to disapprove. Behind thetheological phalanx Dolly sat enthroned plainly in the best of spirits,and in rather a dangerous mood, to judge from outward appearances. Therewas nothing of the poor relation about her at least. The little snowyfan was being manipulated gracefully and with occasional artisticnourishes, her enjoyable roulades of laughter tinkled audaciously, herwhite shoulders were expressive, her gestures charming, and, above all,people were beginning to look at her admiringly, if not with absoluteenvy. Something must be done.

  Lady Augusta moved across the room, piloting her way between people onottomans and people on chairs, rustling with awe-inspiring majesty;and, reaching the corner at last, she spoke to the daring Dolly over theheads of the phalanx.

  “Dorothea,” she said, “we should like a little music.”

  This she had expected would be a move which could not fail to set theyoung person in her right place. It would show her that her time was nother own, and that she was expected to make herself useful; and it wouldalso set to rights any little mistake lookers-on might have previouslylabored under as to her position. But even this did not destroy Dolly’sequanimity. She finished the small joke she had been making to Phemie,and then turned to her august relative with a sweet but trying smile.

  “Music?” she said. “Certainly.” And arose at once.

  Then Lady Augusta saw her mistake. It was only another chance for MissDolly to display herself to advantage, after all. When she arose fromher seat in the corner, and gave a glance of inspection to her trainover her bare white shoulder, people began to look at her again; andwhen she crossed the room, she was an actual Sensation,--and to createa sensation in the Bilberry parlors was to attain a triumph. Worse thanthis, also, as her ladyship passed the bald-headed individual bythe screen, that gentleman--who was a lion as regarded worldlypossessions--condescended to make his first remark for the evening.

  “Pretty girl, that,” he said. “Nice girl,--fine figure. Relative?”

  “My daughter’s governess, sir,” replied her ladyship, rigidly.

  And in Dolly’s passage across the room another incident occurred whichwas not lost upon the head of the house of Bilberry. Near the seat ofMr. Ralph Gowan stood a vacated chair, which obstructed the passage tothe piano, and, observing it, the gentleman in question rose and removedit, bowing obsequiously in reply to Dolly’s slight gesture of thanks,and when she took her place at the instrument he moved to a seat nearby, and settled himself to listen with the air of a man who expected toenjoy the performance.

  And he evidently did enjoy it, for a very pleasant little performance itwas. The songs had a thrill of either pathos or piquancy in everyword and note, and the audience found they were listening in spite ofthemselves.

  When they were ended, Ralph Gowan sought out Lady Augusta in herstronghold, and placidly proposed being introduced to her young guest;and since it was evident that he intended to leave her no alternative,her ladyship was fain to comply; and so, before half the evening wasover, Dolly found herself being entertained as she had never beenentertained before in the camps of the Philistines at least. And as tothe Eastern explorer, boredom was forgotten for the time, and he gavehimself up entirely to the amusing and enjoying of this piquant youngperson with the white shoulders.

  “Crewe,” he said to her during the course of their first conversation.“I am sure Lady Augusta said ‘Crewe.’ Then you are relatives, Isuppose?”

  “Poor relations,” answered Dolly, coolly, and without a shadow ofdiscomfiture. “I am the children’s governess. Trying, is n’t it?”

  Ralph Gowan met the gaze of the bright eyes admiringly. Even at thisearly period of their acquaintance he was falling into the snareevery other man fell into,--the snare of finding that Dolly Crewe wasstartlingly unlike anybody else.

  “Not for the children,” he said. “Under such circumstances educationmust necessarily acquire a new charm.”

  “Thank you,” said Dolly.

  When supper was announced, Lady Augusta made another attack and wasfoiled again. She came to their corner, and, bending over Dolly, spoketo her in stage-whisper.

  “I will bring young Mr. Jessup to take you into the supper-room,Dorothea,” she said.

  But Dolly’s plans were already arranged, and even if such had not beenthe case she would scarcely have rejoiced at the prospect of the escortof young Mr. Jessup, who was a mild young idiot engaged in the study oftheology.

  “Thank you, Lady Augusta,” she said, cheerfully, “but I have promisedMr. Gowan.”

  And Lady Augusta had the pleasure of seeing her leave the room a minutelater, with her small glove slipped through Ralph Gowan’s arm, and theplainly delighted face of that gentleman inclined attentively toward theelaborate Frenchy coiffure.

  At the supper-table little Miss Crewe was a prominent feature. At herend of the table conversation flourished and cheerfulness reigned. EvenEuphemia and young Mr. Jessup, who had come down together in a mutualagony of embarrassment, began to pluck up spirit and hazard occasionalremarks, and finally even joined in the laughter at Dolly’s witticism.

  People lower down the table glanced up across the various dishes, andenvied the group who seemed to set the general heaviness and discontentat defiance.

  Dolly, accompanied by coffee and cakes, was more at home and moredelightful than ever, so delightful, indeed, that Ralph Gowan began toregard even Lady Augusta with gratitude, since it was to her he was, tosome extent, indebted for his new acquaintance.

  “She is a delightful--yes, a delightful girl!” exclaimed young Mr.Jessup, confidentially addressing-Euphemia, and blushing vividly at hisown boldness. “I never heard such a laugh as she has in my life. Itis actually exhilarating. It quite raises one’s spirits,” with mild_naïveté_.

  Euphemia began to brighten at once. She could talk about Dolly Crewe ifshe could talk about nothing else.

  “Oh, but you have n’t seen _anything_ of her yet,” she said, in a burstof enthusiasm. “If you could only see her every day, as I do, and hearthe witty things she says, and see how self-possessed she is, when otherpeople would be perfectly miserable with confusion, there would be nowonder at your saying you never saw anybody like her. _I_ never did, Iam sure. And then, you know, somehow or other, she always looks so wellin everything she wears,--even in the shabbiest things, and her thingsare nearly always shabby enough, for they are dreadfully poor. She isalways finding new ways of wearing things or new ways of doing her hairor--or something. It is the way her dresses fit, I think. Oh, dear, howI do wish the dressmaker could make mine fit as hers do! Just look atthat white merino, now, for instance. It is the plainest dress in theroom, and there is not a bit of fuss or trimming about it, and yetsee how soft the folds look and how it hangs,--the train, you know.It reminds me of a picture,--one of those pictures in fashionablemonthlies,--illustrations of love stories, you know.”

  “It is a very pretty dress,” said young Mr. Jessup, eying it with greatinterest. “What did you say the stuff was called?”

  “
Merino,” answered Phemie.

  “Merino,” repeated Mr. Jessup. “I will try and remember. I should likemy sister Lucinda Maria to have a dress like it.”

  And he regarded it with growing admiration just tempered by the effectof a mental picture of Lucinda Maria, who was bony and of remarkableproportions, attired in its soft and flowing counterpart, with whiteswan’s-down adorning her bare shoulders.

  “May I ask,” said Miss MacDowlas, at the bottom of the table, to LadyAugusta,--“may I ask who that young lady with the fresh completionis,--the young lady in white at the other end?”

  “That is my governess,” replied her ladyship, freezingly. “Miss DorotheaCrewe.”

  And Miss MacDowlas settled her eye-glass and gave Miss Dorothea Crewethe benefit of a prolonged examination.

  “Crewe,” she said, at length. “Poor relation, I suppose?” with somesharpness of manner. Dignity was lost upon Miss MacDowlas.

  “A branch of my family who are no great credit to it,” was the majesticrejoinder.

  “Oh, indeed,” was the lady’s sole remark, and then Miss MacDowlasreturned to her coffee, still, however, keeping her double eye-glassacross her nose and casting an occasional glance at Dolly.

  And just at this particular moment Dolly was unconsciously sealingRalph Gowan’s fate for him. Quite unconsciously, I repeat, for themost serious of Dolly’s iniquities were generally unconscious. Whenshe flirted, her flirtations were of so frank and open a nature, that,bewildered and fascinated though her victims might be, they must havebeen blind indeed to have been deceived, and so there were those whosurvived them and left the field safe, though somewhat sore at heart.But when she was in her honest, earnest, life-enjoying moods, and meantno harm,--when she was simply enjoying herself and trying to amuse hermasculine companion, when her gestures were unconscious and her speechesunstudied, when she laughed through sheer merriment and was charminglytheatrical because she could not help it and because little bits ofpathos and comedy were natural to her at times, then it was that thedanger became deadly; then it was that her admirers were regardlessof consequences, and defied results. And she was in just such a moodto-night.

  “Come and see us?” she was saying. “Of course you may; and if youcome, you shall have an insight into the domestic workings of modernVagabondia. You shall be introduced to half a dozen people who toil not,neither do they spin successfully, for their toiling and spinning seemsto have little result, after all. You shall see shabbiness and the spiceof life hand-in-hand; and, I dare say, you will find that the figurativedinner of herbs is not utterly destitute of a flavor of _piquancy_.You shall see people who enjoy themselves in sheer defiance ofcircumstances, and who find a pathos in every-day events, which, in thecamps of the Philistines, mean nothing. Yes, you may come if you careto.” And Ralph Gowan, looking down at the changeful eyes, saw an almosttender light shining in their depths,--summoned up all at once perhapsby one of those inexplicable touches of pathos of which she had spoken.

  But even coffee and conversation must come to an end at last, and so theend of this evening came. People began to drop away one by one, biddingtheir hostess good-night with the air of individuals who had performeda duty, and were relieved to find it performed and disposed of for thetime being. So Dolly, leaving her companion with a bright farewell,and amiably disposing of Lady Augusta, slipped up-stairs to theretiring-room for her wraps. In the course of three minutes shecame down again, the scarlet shawl draped around her, and the highlyornamental hood donned. She was of so little consequence in the Bilberryhousehold that no one met her when she reappeared. Even the servantsknew that her convenience or inconvenience was of small moment, so thetask of summoning her cab would have devolved upon herself, had it notbeen for a little incident, which might have been either an accidentor otherwise. As she came down the staircase a gentleman crossed thethreshold of the parlor and came to meet her,--and this gentleman was noother than Ralph Gowan.

  “Let me have the pleasure of putting you into your--”

  “Cab,” ended Dolly, with a trill of a laugh,--it was so evident thathe had been going to say “carriage.” “Thank you, with the greatest ofpleasure. Indeed, it is rather a relief to me, for they generally keepme waiting. And I detest waiting.”

  He handed her into her seat, and lingered to see that she wascomfortable, perhaps with unnecessary caution; and then, when she gavehim her hand through the window, he held it for a moment longer than wasexactly called for by the exigencies of the occasion.

  “You will not forget that you have given me permission to call,” hesaid, hesitating slightly.

  “Oh, dear no!” she answered. “I shall not forget. We are always glad tosee people--in Vagabondia.”

  And as the cab drove off, she waved the hand he had held in an airygesture of adieu, gave him a bewildering farewell nod, and, withdrawingher face from the window, disappeared in the shadow within.

  “Great Jove!” meditated Ralph Gowan, when he had seen the last of her.“And this is a nursery governess,--a sort of escape-valve for the spleenand ill moods of that woman in copper-color. She teaches them French andmusic, I dare say, and makes those spicy little jokes of hers overthe dog-eared arithmetic. Ah, well! such is impartial Fortune,” And hestrolled back into the house again, to make his adieus to Lady Augusta,with the bewitching Greuze face fresh in his memory.

  But, for her part, Dolly, having left him behind in the Philistine camp,was nestling comfortably in the dark corner of her cab, thinking ofGriffith, as she always did think of him when she found herself alonefor a moment.

  “I wonder if he will be at home when I get there,” she said. “Poorfellow! he would find it dull enough without me, unless they were allin unusually good spirits. I wonder if the time ever will come when weshall have a little house of our own, and can go out together or stay athome, just as we like.”