Part 7 (1/2)
”I am not judging the Websters individually--only the cla.s.s to which they belong; of which I _do_ know something, and you nothing.”
”Well, I think I will learn for myself then!” cried Sally. ”I'll start by believing people as nice as they appear, until I find them otherwise.”
”And are Mrs. and Miss Webster 'nice,' as you call it?” asked Paul, his curiosity overcoming his vexation.
”I did not like Mrs. Webster much: the room did not seem big enough to hold her.”
”I told you so!” said Paul, triumphantly.
”Oh, Paul! you might be a woman,” replied Sally, with mocking laughter.
”But listen; Miss Webster is as nice as she looks! Can you want more?”
”It's a good thing to be young and enthusiastic.”
”Certainly better than being old and cynical,” retorted Sally, saucily.
The next morning's post brought a crested envelope, directed in a das.h.i.+ng hand, to Sally, inviting Paul and herself to dinner at the Court on the following evening.
”We shall be simply a family party,” wrote the lady; ”but, with such near neighbours, I thought it more friendly to invite you for the first time quite informally.”
”You don't want to go!” exclaimed Paul, who felt the meshes of the society net closing round him.
”Of course I do. I want to see your house, and to feel what it would be like to live there.”
”I don't believe you have a proper frock to go in. A coat and skirt won't do.”
”What nonsense! I've an evening dress, of a sort; and they don't invite my frock, but me!”
”We'll go, then, as you've set your heart upon it; but I feel as if it were the letting out of water.”
Certainly Paul had no reason to complain of Sally's appearance when she came down ready dressed for her dinner on the following evening. In her simple white dress, cut away at the throat, with a soft muslin fichu tied in front with long ends falling to the bottom other skirt, she looked, as old Macdonald afterwards remarked to his wife, ”as a lady should:” fair, and fresh, and young. Her dusky hair waved prettily upon her forehead, and half concealed her ears; the face it framed was not, strictly speaking, pretty, but it was bright and animated, and the dark eyes and eyebrows were handsome.
”I've won one person's approval at any rate,” said Sally, merrily, as they started on their way. ”I went in to bid Macdonald good night, and Mrs. Macdonald said, as she helped me on with my cape, that 'my John'
likes ladies to wear white dresses and have pale faces. He could not abide colour, except in flowers.”
”Then you are fulfilling your mission, Sally, and winning your way into Macdonald's good graces. We shan't be turned out.”
”It's my first dinner-party, Paul. Do you realise the importance of the occasion? I've had no coming-out like other girls.”
”That's why you are so much jollier than most of them,” said Paul, betrayed into a compliment.
From the moment they entered the drive-gate, and began the ascent to the house, Sally looked about her with eager interest, breaking into exclamations of delight as each step revealed some fresh beauty to her eyes.
”It's a dangerous experiment to have brought you. You will be horribly discontented with Macdonald's, after this.”
”I shan't. But if this place were mine, I should live here, and make it a joy to everybody about me. I would not want to keep it to myself,” Sally said--
But the front door was reached, and a footman was at hand to help her off with her cloak; and in another instant the door of the long drawing-room was thrown wide, and Sally, with the un-self-consciousness of simplicity, heard herself announced, and found her hand in Mrs.
Webster's, who retained it as she led her on towards a tall, handsome man who stood talking to Miss Webster.
”Mr. Curzon, allow me to introduce Miss Lessing. You've been away with your little Kitty, so I don't think you've met each other yet.”