“This is Cousin Leila again,” she exclaimed, as she hastily lifted the white drapery, which proved to be an embroidered apron, worked by Leila for this happy occasion. On the table was placed a pretty little writing-desk, a present from her papa and mamma, a case in mother-of-pearl, with pens, pencil, sealing-wax, &c., from her Uncle Herbert, and a beautiful purse worked by Selina. Matilda was in ecstasies; how she got dressed she never very well knew; she had no distinct remembrance but of being half smothered with heat from being closely wrapped up in a shawl and carried back to her room by Nurse, who looked unutterable things. How she longed for twelve o’clock, the hour at which her friend was to arrive; for to show all those beauties to Lydia Mildmay would be such a renewal of her pleasure!
Twelve o’clock came at last; but Matilda was disappointed when Lydia saw her pretty bed, (for Matilda had carefully preserved the flowers upon it,) she only shrugged her shoulders, exclaiming, “How vastly poetical we are.” And though she said all that was civil when she saw the presents, her admiration fell far short of what had been expected; and all, that but the moment before had appeared so beautiful in Matilda’s eyes, fell considerably in her estimation, when Lydia, with an affected air of indifference, observed, “This seems a day for showing presents, so perhaps you would like to see a little trifle which my godmother presented to me some little time ago; at first I thought it rather pretty, though now I don’t think much of it;” and she took from her reticule a beautiful little etui of the most finished workmanship. It was a walnut-shell, bound and lined with gold, containing scissors, bodkin, and thimble, with small tablets of mother-of-pearl, and a gold pencil-case with an amethyst top. Matilda gazed in speechless admiration. If Lydia’s intention was to mortify her, she might have been satisfied with the look with which Matilda now contemplated all that had before given her so much pleasure; but after a little time she rallied again, and whispering to Leila that if her presents were not quite so beautiful, they were at least far more useful, she quite brightened up, and proposed that they should go into the conservatory to visit the parrots, and then into the garden.
The day seemed to pass very pleasantly to all; for though Lydia and Matilda were always going off by themselves, the hours never seemed long when Selina and Leila were together. Immediately after dinner the carriage was sent for. Lydia, to convey her home, as there was a large dinner party, and her mamma wished her to be present in the drawing-room. Matilda seemed quite unhappy in parting with her; indeed, having this intelligence communicated to her just as they were sitting down to dinner seemed quite to overset her. She held her hand at parting, and looked anxiously up in her face, then followed her a few steps as she was leaving the room, and for some minutes they whispered together. When Matilda returned, Leila observed that her eyes were full of tears. She went up to her, and took her kindly by the hand, but Matilda hastily pushed her away, and ran out of the room.
“What can be the matter with Matilda?” Leila inquired; “did you observe, Selina, she appeared quite angry with me? Do you think it is only that she is sorry Lydia has gone away, or have I done any thing to offend her? Should I go and ask her, do you think?”
“No, Leila, I think you had better not. You have done nothing to make her angry. I am sure it is not that. Matilda is never the better of being alone with Lydia Mildmay; I am quite sorry now we left them so much together; but I so dislike appearing to watch them; I fear something has happened, for I know the expression of Matilda’s face so well—it was not only at the moment of parting she was so much overset. Did you not observe her at dinner?”
“No, I did not look at her much, but I think she was in good spirits then; I remember now she laughed two or three times.”
“Yes, she tried to laugh; but she looked very unhappy; and it was only when she saw me looking at her that she laughed. At one time she kept crumbling all her bread down on the carpet, as if she did not know what she was about, and once or twice she could scarcely swallow. Then mamma said something to her, and she grew very red, and seemed to wish to hide her hands under the table.”
“O I can tell you what made her grow red then. I heard Aunt Stanley tell her that she must have forgotten to wash her hands before dinner; and, to be sure, her nails were quite as black as if she had been grubbing in the earth like little Alfred.”
Selina shook her head. “I don’t understand it,” she said; “but I fear Matilda has done something wrong.”
“Then I am sure it must be Lydia’s fault if she has,” Leila said eagerly: “for Mrs. Roberts says she improved so much of late. I am so sorry I invited Lydia, and papa advised me not; he said he thought we three would be quite happy together. I wish he had said steadily, ‘No, Leila, I don’t wish it;’ but he very seldom now tells me I am not to do a thing, as he used to do in the island; he says now that I am older I should learn to govern myself, and that in most cases he wishes only to advise. So it is my fault also if Matilda has done wrong, for I invited Lydia.”