And that is why Sir John went to the party—from motives of conscientiousness. And Miss Crokerly went because she wished to give pleasure to Rosalie. She, an ideal chaperon and friend. And Rosalie went because there was no way out of it.
But Rosalie’s dress was in itself that night a thing of beauty. Green, as bright and dazzling a green as the frog’s coat, that fitted to her graceful figure as perfectly as the shining scales of a serpent’s coils, worked with tiny seed jewels and edgings of gold.
“You look just like the mermaid,” said the frog, “your hair is so pale, and your eyes so bright, and your skin so fair, and your lips are as red as coral.”
And Rosalie looked in the glass just as once before when comparing herself with Mariana, and laughed again just as then, and clasped her hands.
Then, when she was ready, she went to Miss Crokerly’s room, who, on seeing her, uttered an exclamation of surprise.
“What is the matter?” asked Rosalie.
“I believe your frog is a beautifier. Take care no one steals it in the crush to-night. Or perhaps I ought to take the credit to myself. I think I shall. You have improved in appearance since coming here, Rosalie, and to-night you look quite radiant.”
“Thank you,” and with a sudden touch of impulsiveness Rosalie kissed her. “You are so kind to me that the credit is yours.”
When they reached the Sebberens’ the large party was assembling in the great drawing-room, which had been changed into a theatre for the occasion. Supper was to follow, but light refreshments were being handed round, and proved very useful to take the chill off the commencement, as it were. And music not too obtrusive helped digestion. Rosalie’s heart beat quicker as they entered the brilliantly-lit room, advance and retreat covered by Miss Crokerly and her brother, before and behind.
Just inside the wide doors stood Mrs. Sebberen talking to a grey-haired man; Susiebelle was busy behind the curtain, so could not be in attendance upon the guests.