Part 18 (2/2)
Lady Darcy's face stiffened with an expression of icy displeasure.
”It is too annoying! Your dress spoiled at the last moment!
Inexcusable carelessness! What is to be done, Marie? I am in despair!”
The Frenchwoman shrugged her shoulders with an indignant glance in Peggy's direction.
”There is nothing to do. Put on another dress--that is all.
Mademoiselle must change as quick as she can. If I sponge the spots, I spoil the whole thing at once.”
”But you could cut them out, couldn't you?” cried Peggy, the picture of woe, yet miserably eager to make what amends she could. ”You could cut out the spots with sharp scissors, and the holes would not show, for the chiffon is so full and loose. I--I think I could do it, if you would let me try!”
Mistress and maid exchanged a sharp, mutual glance, and the Frenchwoman nodded slowly.
”Yes, it is true; I could rearrange the folds. It will take some time, but still it can be done. It is the best plan.”
”Go then, Rosalind, go with Marie; there is not a moment to spare, and for pity's sake don't cry! Your eyes will be red, and at any moment now the people may begin to arrive. I wanted you to be with me to receive your guests. It will be most awkward being without you, but there is no help for it, I suppose. The whole thing is too annoying for words!”
Lady Darcy swept out of the room, and the three girls were once more left alone; but how changed were their feelings in those few short moments! There was not the shadow of a smile between them; they looked more as if they were about to attend a funeral than a scene of festivity, and for several moments no one had the heart to speak. Peggy still held the fatal cork in her hand, and went through the work of polis.h.i.+ng Mellicent's slippers with an air of the profoundest dejection.
When they were finished she handed them over in dreary silence, and was recommencing the brus.h.i.+ng of her hair, when something in the expression of the chubby face arrested her attention. Her eyes flashed; she faced round with a frown and a quick, ”Well, what is it? What are you thinking now?”
”I--I wondered,” whispered Mellicent breathlessly, ”if you did do it on purpose! Did you _mean_ to spoil her dress, and make her change it?”
Peggy's hands dropped to her side, her back straightened until she stood stiff and straight as a poker. Every atom of expression seemed to die out of her face. Her voice had a deadly quiet in its intonation.
”What do you think about it yourself?”
”I--I thought perhaps you did! She teased you, and you were so cross.
You seemed to be standing so very near her, and you are jealous of her-- and she looked so lovely! I thought perhaps you did...”
”Mellicent Asplin,” said Peggy quietly, and her voice was like the east wind that blows from an icy-covered mountain,--”Mellicent Asplin, my name is Saville, and in my family we don't condescend to mean and dishonourable tricks. I may not like Rosalind, but I would have given all I have in the world sooner than this should have happened. I was trying to do you a service, but you forget that. You forget many things! I have been jealous of Rosalind, because when she arrived you and your sister forgot that I was alone and far-away from everyone belonging to me, and were so much engrossed with her that you left me alone to amuse myself as best I might. You were pleased enough to have me when no one else was there, but you left me the moment someone appeared who was richer and grander than I. I wouldn't have treated _you_ like that, if our positions had been reversed. If I dislike Rosalind, it is your fault as much as hers; more than hers, for it was you who made me dread her coming!”
Peggy stopped, trembling and breathless. There was a moment's silence in the room, and then Esther spoke in a slow, meditative fas.h.i.+on.
”It is quite true!” she said. ”We _have_ left you alone, Peggy; but it is not quite so bad as you think. Really and truly we like you far the best, but--but Rosalind is such a change to us! Everything about her is so beautiful and so different, that she has always seemed the great excitement of our lives. I don't know that I'm exactly fond of her, but I want to see her, and talk to her, and hear her speak, and she is only here for a short time in the year. It was because we looked upon you as really one of ourselves that we seemed to neglect you; but it was wrong, all the same. As for your spoiling her dress on purpose, it's ridiculous to think of it. How could you say such a thing, Mellicent, when Peggy was trying to help you, too? How _could_ you be so mean and horrid?”
”Oh, well, I'm sure I wish I were dead!” wailed Mellicent promptly.
”Nothing but fusses and bothers, and just when I thought I was going to be so happy! If I'd had white shoes, this would never have happened.
Always the same thing! When you look forward to a treat, everything is as piggy and nasty as it can be! Wish I'd never come! Wish I'd stayed at home, and let the horrid old party go to Jericho! Rosalind's crying, Peggy's cross, you are preaching! This is a nice way to enjoy yourself, I must say!”
Nothing is more hopeless than to reason with a placid person who has lapsed into a fit of ill-temper. The two elder girls realised this, and remained perfectly silent while Mellicent continued to wish for death, to lament the general misery of life, and the bad fortune which attended the wearers of black slippers. So incessant was the stream of her repinings, that it seemed as if it might have gone on for ever, had not a servant entered at last, with the information that the guests were beginning to arrive, and that Lady Darcy would be glad to see the young ladies without delay. Esther was anxious to wait and help Peggy with her toilet, but that young lady was still on her dignity, and by no means anxious to descend to a scene of gaiety for which she had little heart. She refused the offer, therefore, in Mariquita fas.h.i.+on, and the sisters walked dejectedly along the brightly-lit corridors, Mellicent still continuing her melancholy wail, and Esther reflecting sadly that all was vanity, and devoutly wis.h.i.+ng herself back in the peaceful atmosphere of the vicarage.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
FIRE!
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