Troubles, too, arose about her dress. She had been conscious on Sunday that the ladies in attendance were far smarter than she was; and she had overheard the maiden, who was addressed as 'Betty,' say,—
'That country child is vain of her gown, but it might have been put together in the reign of our Queen's grandmother. And who ever saw a ruff that shape; it is just half as thick as it ought to be.'
Poor little Lucy had other causes, as she thought, for discontent. The long delay in the fulfilment of her wishes was almost too much for her patience; but it was exasperating, one morning, to be summoned from the dairy by little Ambrose to see a grand lady on a white horse, who asked if Mistress Lucy Ratcliffe had gone to London.
Lucy ran out in eager haste, hoping almost against hope that it was some lady from Penshurst, sent by the Countess to make the final arrangements.
To her dismay she found Dorothy Ratcliffe being lifted from the pillion by a serving man, attired in a smart riding-robe of crimson with gold buttons and a hood of the same material to protect her head from the sun and the keen east wind which had set in during the last few days.
'Good-day to you,' Dorothy said. 'I did not hope to find you here. Methought you had set off for London days ago! Whence the delay?'
'I am waiting the Countess of Pembroke's pleasure,' Lucy said, with heightened colour. 'The tourney has been put off.'
'As we all know,' Dorothy remarked, 'but it is well to be lodged in good time, for all the quarters near Whitehall will be full to overflowing. Prithee, let me come in out of the wind, it is enow to blow one's head off one's shoulders.'
Lucy was unpleasantly conscious that she was in her ordinary dress, that her blue homespun was old and faded, that her sleeves were tucked up, and that there was neither ruff at her throat nor ruffles at her sleeves, that her somewhat disordered locks were covered with a thick linen cap, while Mistress Ratcliffe was smartly equipped for riding after the fashion of the ladies of the time.
'Well-a-day,' Dorothy said. 'I am vexed you are disappointed. We are off at sunrise on the morrow, staying a night at my father's house in Tunbridge, and then on to London on the next day but one. Aunt Ratcliffe and my father have business to go through about me and my jointure, for, after all, for peace's sake, I shall have to wed with George, unless,' with a toss of her head, 'I choose another suitor in London.'