“In the hotel?”
“Yes; it will be a capital dance.”
“But I know no men.”
“I know any number, and I will get you partners,” said Madeline, recklessly.
And Madeline kept her word, to the intense enjoyment of Miss Berwick, who, thanks to her school-fellow, had quite a delightful plurality of cavaliers. It seemed so strange to Nina Berwick to see Madeline West, the shabby drudge whom she had pitied at school, now surrounded with every luxury and crowds of smart acquaintances, with a carriage and servants at her orders, and all the best partis at her feet.
She was extremely good-natured, and did her utmost to give this rather plain, dull little spinster a good time. She got up picnics and golf tournaments. She took her for long drives and pleasant expeditions.
One afternoon Miss Berwick’s grandmamma and Mrs. Leach remained at home, had tea together, and talked Miss West over in her own sitting-room. Lady Fitzsandy liked Miss West, and sang her praises in a mild key; ditto Mrs. Leach, in a yet louder strain, with one occasional piercing high note—that note a “but.” “But she is wildly extravagant; but she is wonderful, considering her antecedents; but she cannot live without excitement; but she is uncertain in her friendships.”
But Lady Fitzsandy was staunch, and said, “I must say that, as far as I can judge, Miss West is true to old friends. She is very much attached to Nina.”
Mrs. Leach, on her own part, professed a rival attachment for Miss Berwick, gave her autographs—which she was collecting—also a box of pralines, and took her arm round the gardens once, treated her to coffee at the Casino, and there pumped her to the best of her ability.
“And so Madeline was only a pupil-teacher when you were at school, you tell me, dear?”