Part 15 (2/2)
With a sort of benevolent smile Jane observed Lily's face color with naive pleasure, as she saw her ambition to appear ”das.h.i.+ng and dangerous” gradually being realized under Annie Lee's skillful manipulation of the very simple materials at hand.
In less than half an hour, the heavy, mahogany-framed mirror, reflected the gayest vision that had ever peered into its mottled surface. Jane clapped her hands delightedly.
”_Now_ don't you like yourself!” she crowed. Annie Lee sat back on her heels, thoroughly satisfied with her achievement. And well she might be.
The vivid yellow skirt, which looked almost exactly like real satin, had been judiciously shortened to show the prettiest ankles in Frederickstown, clad in a pair of black silk stockings with scarlet clocks!-another of Lily's hidden treasures. The black lace scarf, draped like a mantilla over the high tortoise-sh.e.l.l comb, fell over Lily's slender white shoulders, and framing her face, made her skin seem more transparent, her hair blacker, her eyes bluer, and her mouth redder than before. Mrs. Deacon's spangled black fan had been boldly rifled from her bureau drawer, and from the humble duty of stirring the listless air in church on a summer morning, had been promoted to that of fluttering coquettishly in Lily's hand.
”If you must have scarlet heels,” said Annie Lee, ”you can tear the satin off the heels of your black slippers and paint the wooden part red.”
”You _do_ look perfectly scrumptious, Lily,” said Dolly; ”there isn't a thing wrong, and you've simply got to wear that costume.”
Lily, with her closed fan laid against her lips, gazed into the mirror, as if uncertain that the reflection that gazed back were really she, herself.
”I wish-” she began, and then broke off with a shame-faced, confused little smile.
Just then, Jane, who happened to glance out of the window to see how deep the snow was getting, remarked,
”There goes Mr. Sheridan. I wonder what on earth-”
”Where?” cried a chorus of voices in great excitement, and instantly every girl was at the window peering over each other's shoulders, and fairly bursting with curiosity to see the eccentric young man, whose habits had for several weeks been the subject of much speculation in that busybody little town. Even Amelia forgot her dignity and scrambled to see him. Lily, only, tried to appear indifferent, but without complete success; for after a moment's hesitation, she too was peeping out from behind the substantial Dolly.
The object of this flattering interest was sauntering along with his hands in his pockets, and his head bent; but presently, as if he felt the magnetism of all this concentrated attention, he looked up to the window. His expression of surprise,-even of indignation, as if he resented this notice from the ”feminine element”-was almost instantly replaced by one of alertness. Jane beamed at him, and waved her hand, and he smiled back at her and lifted his hat; but, in that brief second-and Jane did not fail to note this-his eye travelled swiftly over the cl.u.s.ter of pretty faces, and with remarkable keenness, singled out Lily's, and again he lifted his hat, and bowed slightly.
Jane turned quickly to see Lily blus.h.i.+ng pink, and with an answering smile just fading from her eyes.
”Do _you_ know him too?” she demanded. Lily pretended not to hear.
Shrinking back, and pursing up her lips, she said primly,
”Aren't you all ashamed of yourselves-rus.h.i.+ng to stare at a stranger like that, and letting him see you, too?”
”I'd like to know why I shouldn't,” said Annie Lee. ”Anyone who is as queer as he is, deserves to be stared at.”
”What's queer about him?” cried Lily, quite indignantly.
”Well, he never goes anywhere, and never sees anyone, and lives all alone in that big house. You may not call that queer, but _I_ do.”
returned Annie Lee.
”And he's _so_ handsome,” murmured Dolly, sentimentally. ”I'm sure he's had some unhappy love-affair.”
”Pooh!” said Jane, who was not romantic, ”he's no more heart-broken than I am.”
”You know very little, as yet, concerning the secret sorrows that many people hide,” said Amelia.
”When they hide them that's one thing,” retorted Jane, ”but he advertises his like a breakfast food.” Then once more she turned on Lily, remorselessly, ”Do _you_ know him, too, Miss Lily?” she repeated.
”I? Why, n-no,” said Lily, pretending to be studying her own dimpled chin in the mirror.
”He bowed to you,” insisted Jane.
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