"You have been out in the gardens, my dear," she said to the young girl, who evidently expected a reproof. "That is right. You are looking very well this morning."
She spoke coldly; but in her heart she marvelled at the girl's wonderful beauty. She had seen nothing so fair, so dainty, so brilliant as the bloom that overspread her lovely face. "I have had a note from Mr. Darcy," continued her ladyship, "and he will be with us before noon."
During breakfast Lady Vaughan was more gracious than ever Hyacinth remembered to have seen her. When it was over, she said to the girl:
"I should like you to look your best, Cynthy, when Mr. Darcy comes. Make a fresh toilet, and then amuse yourself as you like until I send for you."
Over the glowing dream of the morning the name of Adrian Darcy seemed to fall like the breath of a cold east wind over flowers. She had for the time almost forgotten him, and at the sound of his name a whole host of disagreeable memories arose.
"Never mind," she said to herself; "they cannot force me to marry him against my will. I can tell him I do not like him." She went away, with smiles on her lips and music in her heart, to change her dress, as Lady Vaughan had desired. A surprise awaited her in her room; Pincott, Lady Vaughan's maid, was standing before a large trunk.
"These are dresses, Miss Vaughan," she said, "that my lady has ordered from Paris for you. She did not tell you, because she wished to keep it as a surprise for you."
The girl's face flushed crimson.
"For me!" she cried. "How kind of her! Oh, Pincott, how beautiful they are!"
The maid unfolded the glistening treasures of silk, lace, and velvet, displaying them to Hyacinth's enraptured eyes.