Part 7 (1/2)
As she herself would have described it, she went hot and cold all over, something went ”fizz” in her brain, and the next moment she leapt down from the table and confronted Lady Sarah with flaming cheeks and eyes ablaze with anger.
”And--who--asked--_your_--opinion? What business is it of yours what I wear? I didn't come here on your invitation--I was asked by Mrs Faucit, and so long as she is satisfied you have no right to say a word.
How dare you find fault with my mother before my face? How dare you question what she thinks right to do? you--you unkind, interfering,--_disagreeable old woman_!”
There was an awful silence. Lady Sarah appeared transfixed with astonishment; her jaw fell, her eyes protruded from their sockets. The twins instinctively clasped hands, and Mrs Faucit, arrested, in the act of re-entering the room, by the sound of the last few words, stood motionless in the doorway, her face eloquent of pained surprise.
Mildred glanced from one to the other. She was trembling from head to foot, her heart beat with suffocating throbs. For one moment she succeeded in maintaining her att.i.tude of defiance; but when she met the grave scrutiny of Mrs Faucit's eyes, she burst into a storm of tears and rushed from the room. Reaction had set in, and her own irritation was as nothing to the shock which followed as she realised that--fresh from Mrs Faucit's praise and her own congratulations,--she had given way to an outburst of temper which must have horrified all who heard it.
She crouched down on a corner of her bedroom sofa and sobbed as if her heart would break. The old intolerable pangs of homesickness woke up again and dragged at her heart; the longing for her own place, her own people, above all, for the precious mother who always sympathised and understood.
Perhaps Mrs Faucit would be so disgusted that she would send her straight back to school. Well! at this moment the thought of the quiet house and of Mardie's loving kindness was by no means unwelcome. At school, at least, everyone was kind--the very servants went out of their way to give her pleasure--there was no terrible Lady Sarah to stare at her through gold-rimmed eye-gla.s.ses, and criticise and find fault from morning till night.
It was in reality less than ten minutes, but it seemed like hours to Mildred before the door opened to admit Bertha and Lois, and a fresh outburst of sobbing was the only notice which she took of their entrance.
Bertha slipped an arm round her waist. Lois sniffed in sympathy from afar.
”Never mind her, Mil!” she cried. ”Don't cry. You couldn't possibly have anything prettier than the blue crepe,” but at this Mildred raised her face in eager protest.
”Oh, I'm not crying about that! I don't care a rap about the dress, but--but she made me so furious. It had been going on all morning, and I c-couldn't bear it any longer. I am so ashamed. I can't bear to think of it. I don't know what I said.”
The twins exchanged furtive glances.
”You called her 'an interfering, disagreeable old woman'!” whispered Bertha with bated breath, glancing half fearfully at the door as she spoke. ”I--I felt as if the world were coming to an end! As if the ceiling would fall down over our heads! Oh, Mil, you should have seen her face! I never saw anyone look so astonished in my life, but the curious part of it is that I don't think she was angry. She knew she had no right to speak as she had done, and I believe she admired you for being indignant. Perhaps you will be better friends after this.”
”No, we won't!” said Mildred, setting her chin stubbornly; ”because I won't, if she will. I'll never forgive her. It is not Lady Sarah I care about--it is your mother. Oh, I can't forget her face, she looked so shocked! She stared at me with such horrified eyes. Is she awfully angry, do you think?”
”I haven't spoken to her. She sent us out of the room directly after you left, but she didn't seem angry, only quiet and grieved.”
”Oh, oh, oh! what shall I do? I hate people to be grieved! I detest it! It's fifty thousand times worse than being angry. If people are angry you can defend yourself and take your own part, but if they are 'grieved' you can only feel a wretch, as if you had no right to live.
Oh, dear, what will she think of me! It was only the other day she was saying that I kept my temper so well, and now I've disgraced myself for ever! She will never, never forgive me!”
Before the girls could say anything by way of comfort, Mrs Faucit herself entered the room and walked straight towards the couch on which Mildred was sitting. She looked pale and distressed, but the manner in which she put her arm round the girl's waist was certainly not suggestive of anger.
”I am so very sorry that this scene should have occurred, Mildred,” she said; ”but I have been having a talk with Lady Sarah, and she takes all the blame upon herself. She is sorry that she spoke as she did, and I think she will be more considerate of your feelings for the future. I said the other day that I knew you must often feel provoked, and how pleased I felt to know that you controlled your temper. I wish, dear,”
she sighed heavily, ”I wish you had gone on as you began! It would have been a great relief to me; but perhaps it was too much to expect. You are young and impulsive.”
”Oh, no, no! don't make excuses! I am a wretch, I know I am!” sobbed Mildred penitently. ”It was hateful of me to speak rudely to a guest of yours--so old, too. Mother would be miserable if she knew. But it was so maddening! I bore it as long as she found fault with me, but when she began criticising Mother--saying that she didn't dress me properly, and had no right to allow me to come here,--I couldn't keep quiet any longer--I couldn't! It made me too furious. I was obliged to explode.”
”I know! I know. I am sorry the girls' dresses were ever brought down--that was the beginning of it all. Mildred, dear, I hope you won't think any more of what Lady Sarah said on that subject. I noticed how pretty your dress looked when you first arrived, and we will see that it is made fresh and bright again for the picnic. It came into my mind to order a dress for you like the ones which the girls are to wear, but I was not sure if you would like it, or if it would seem as if I were dissatisfied with what your mother had provided.”
Mildred threw her arms round the speaker with one of her bear-like hugs.
”All, you know! you understand!” she cried; ”you are so different. It was sweet and lovely of you to think of it, but I'd rather not. If people don't care to have me in my old clothes, I'd rather stay away altogether. But I have ever so many pretty things stored away in my box--new gloves,--ribbons,--a lace collar. I can make myself quite respectable. Don't be worried, Mrs Faucit, please! I'll try to be good and not vex you again. Do please take your forehead out of crinkles.”
Mrs Faucit laughed at that, and stroked the golden head with a caressing hand. She had grown very fond of her young visitor during the last few weeks, and found her coaxing ways quite irresistible.
”Dear Mildred!” she cried, ”Poor Mildred! I am so sorry that your visit should be spoiled in this way, but remember what I told you the other day, dear, and try to avoid harsh judgments. It is a great concession for Lady Sarah to have acknowledged herself in the wrong in a dispute with a girl of your age; you must show how generous and forbearing you can be in return. I hope that after this you may be really good friends.”
Mildred said nothing, but her lips closed with an expression which Bertha and Lois recognised. They had seen it at school on more than one memorable occasion. Mildred was the dearest girl in the world, but she did not find it easy to forgive when her animosity had been aroused.
CHAPTER NINE.