Judge therefore her immeasurable amaze when, going up to the bedroom on the date of the [187] ]dinner-party, and just after nursery tea was over, she discovered Nellie again in the act of making a “toilette.” She had the white crepon dress on; it nearly touched the ground in front, and trailed a little behind. There was soft lace in the neck and sleeves of it, and on her bosom a cluster of the exquisite pink roses that climbed all over the tool-shed. She had white suede gloves and black pretty shoes, both new, as the gap in her small allowance testified.
Excitement had lent a brilliant colour to her cheeks; her eyes, with their thick, curled lashes, were like stars. For one second Meg paused, struck with the wondrous, exceeding beauty of her young sister; the next she realised what she was dressed for.
“Where are you going?” she said, merely as a matter of form—of course she knew.
“I’m going to the Fitzroy-Brownes at Trafalgar House for a small dinner-party,—seven to ten, carriages at half-past,” Nellie said, with elaborate attention to detail. “Is there anything else you would like to know?”
Meg went a little white.
“You don’t move from this house, Nellie!” she said, and her lips set themselves firmly. “You can take off that dress as soon as you like!”
[188]
]Nellie twisted a long lace scarf round her beautiful shining head.
“It’s no use making a bother,” she said; “I’ve made up my mind to go, and I’m going!”
“I refused the invitation,” Meg said, catching at a straw.
“But I accepted,” was Nellie’s answer. “I met Isabel yesterday and promised.”