“Haw, that’s better,” he said; “now I can see your eyes. I couldn’t when you kept them so cruelly hidden, don’t cher see.”
Then the Hebrew neighbour claimed her attention.
“Grand finisht dot vash at Randwick, Sat’day,” he said. The servants were bringing him fresh supplies, so he could spare time for a minute to speak to the pretty little girl beside him.
“Yes,” assented Nellie in a hurry. She had not caught what he said, but thought it would be easier to assent than tell him so.
“And vich horse vos it you vos backing?” he pursued.
Then she had to explain she had not heard what [200] ]he said; and afterwards, that she had never been to the races in her life.
The Hebrew had no other conversation at command just then, so he returned to his fresh plateful, and left her to her other neighbours, who smiled openly, but made no movement to help her when a servant brought champagne, and she was perplexed to know whether she ought to offer one of the many glasses beside her or remain passive. She had never thought it possible for a meal to last the interminably long time this one did.
The others seemed to be enjoying themselves exceedingly. There was loud talking and laughing on both sides, wine was flowing freely, and there was an exhaustless supply of good things to eat.
Nellie wondered miserably if Meg had found her out, as she dipped her finger tips into the Venetian glass finger bowl. There was a tiny William Alan Richardson rosebud floating there; Meg had had a cluster stuck in her waistband when she had been entreating her to give up this dinner. Dear, dear Meg! and to think she had vexed and worried and grieved her like this, just for the sake of these horrible people and their thrice horrible dinner-party!
Her eyes ached with tears, there was a lump in her throat, a tightness at her heart; the young man [201] ]at her elbow was talking, but she neither heard his words nor turned her head. Then he laughed out, and the Hebrew gentleman touched her arm. All the ladies had risen and were on their way to the door; she only was sitting still, her gloves yet off, her young, unhappy face downcast. A wave of colour rushed into her cheeks, and as she jumped up hurriedly, every one was looking at her, half amusedly, half admiringly. Isabel at the door waited for her, a little vexed.