It was more than a quarter of an hour before Miss Jones made her appearance, and oh, what a change was there!
She wore a “costume” of bright terra-cotta poplin, with insertion bands of black lace over pink ribbon at intervals up the skirt and round the body.
The sleeves were enormous—gigot shape; there were numberless gold and silver bangles at her wrists, several brooches at her neck, and a gold-headed pin was stuck through her hair. She had white canvas shoes with tan bands.
[117]
]That she was pretty there was no doubt. She had a bright complexion, scarlet lips, and large heavily lashed brown eyes, very soft and beautiful; her hair, which was much frizzed, was black and silky.
“I regret that circumstances over which I had no control compelled me to keep you waiting so long; but I was engaged with some one who was in a great hurry,” she said, which sounded very well, for she had composed it while she curled her hair.
Only she accented the second half of “circumstances,” and deprived her poor little last word of its rightful “h.”
“I have plenty of time,” Meg said. “It does not matter at all.” Then she paused, and in the little space of clock-ticking Miss Jones examined her.
Meg’s dress was one of the despised prints—a tiny blue spot on a white ground, very clean and fresh. There was a band of blue belting at her waist, and one on her sailor-hat. Her shoes were very neat, black with shining toe-caps; her gloves fitted without a crease, and were beyond reproach.
No jewellery at all, as Miss Jones noted, but a little gold-bar brooch fastening her spotless collar. A lady every inch, though the dress was home-made and had cost under five shillings.
In a vague, slow way Miss Jones felt the difference and was dissatisfied. She almost wished she had [118] ]not put on her best dress, as it was only early morning.