“Yes, we have been here ever since Christmas.”
“How nice! I hope we shall see a great deal of one another, and have talks over old times.”
“Yes,” assented Madeline, colouring, “that will be charming.”
“You are not married, are you, Madeline?”
“What has put such an idea into your head?” was the misleading reply. Madeline was clever at evasion and subterfuge: practice makes perfect.
“You see we have been living abroad for two years, and are rather out of the way of news. I am living with my aunt, Lady Fitzsandy. She hates England. Well, I’m nearly dead, and very dusty and thirsty. Our rooms are on the quatrième étage, and the lift is out of order, I hear, so I must toil up. Ta-ta!” and she hurried away after the porters and her relative.
Nina Berwick had left school just after the breaking-up—Madeline recalled this with a sensation of relief. She came from the borders of Scotland, and knew nothing; besides, she was always intensely stupid, and never could remember anything—names, dates, historical events, and even school events went through her sieve-like brain. She had not been a particular friend of Madeline’s, and had only known her in those days when she had fallen from her high estate—never as the rich Miss West.
For her part, Nina Berwick was amazed at her friend’s transformation. She occupied a suite on the first floor. She had an English footman, a private sitting-room, a Paris frock, and yet she was not married! The Miss Berwicks were well-born but poor; their aunt could not afford them the delights of a London season. She carried them abroad, where they had never heard of Madeline’s social successes. Lady Fitzsandy roved about the Continent, from one gay centre to another, and was extremely anxious to get her nieces settled—especially Lucy, who was plain and twenty-eight.
Lady Fitzsandy gladly foregathered with Mr. West’s pleasant party. They always joined forces after dinner in the hall, and took coffee together. And her ladyship was specially charmed with Mrs. Leach, Miss West’s chaperon, who was so sweet and so handsome—she was connected, too, with her own cousins the Horse-Leaches—and seemed so pleased and interested to hear that Nina had been at school with Miss West.
“The dear girls,” as she pointed out the pair sitting side by side on a distant divan, “were going over old times three years ago, and talking so happily together.” This is what they were saying, and what Mrs. Leach would have given her best ring to hear:—