These preparations, whilst they excited and interested Lilac, also made her a little envious. She began to wish she had something pretty to put on in honour of the concert, and even to have a faint hope that her aunt might give her a new dress too. But this did not seem even to occur to Mrs Greenways, and Lilac soon gave up all thoughts of it with a sigh. Her Sunday frock was very shabby, but after all just to stand up amongst the other children it would not show much. She took it out of her box and looked at it: perhaps there was something she could do to smarten it up a little. It certainly hung in a limp flattened manner across the bed, and was even beginning to turn a rusty colour; nothing would make it look any different. Would one of her cottons be better, Lilac wondered anxiously. But none of the children would wear cottons, she knew—they all put on their Sunday best for the concert. The black frock must do. She could put a clean frill in the neck, and brush her hair very neatly, but that was all. There was no one she remembered to take much notice what she wore, so it did not matter.
The evening came. Everyone had practised their parts and brought them to a high pitch of perfection; and except Mr Busby, whose appearance was still uncertain, everyone was prepared to fill their places in the programme.
“You won’t find two better-looking girls than that,” said Mrs Greenways to her husband, looking proudly at her two daughters. “That blue does set ’em off, to be sure!”
“La!” said Bella with a giggle, “I feel that nervous I know I shall break down. I’m all of a twitter.”
“Well, it’s no matter how you play as long as you look well,” said Mrs Greenways; “with Charlie making all that noise on the drum, you only hear the piano now and again. But where’s Lilac!” she added. “It’s more than time we started.”
Lilac had been ready long ago, and waiting for her cousins, but just before they came downstairs she had caught sight of Peter looking into the room from the garden, and making mysterious signs to her to come out. When she appeared he held towards her a bunch of small red and white chrysanthemums. “Here’s a posy for you,” he said. “Stick it in your front. They’re a bit frost-bitten, but they’re better than nothing.”
Lilac took the flowers joyfully; after all she was not to be quite unadorned at the concert.
“You ain’t got a new frock,” he continued, looking at her seriously when she had fastened them in her dress. “You look nice, though.”
“Ain’t you coming?” asked Lilac. She felt that she should miss Peter’s friendly face when she sang, and that she should like him to hear her.
“Presently,” he said. “Got summat to see to first.”