“Do you think Mr. Bradfield will dine with us, mother?” she asked, as she softly closed the door.
The words were hardly out of her mouth when there was a knock at the door, and the footman announced that dinner was ready for them in the Chinese-room. The two ladies were then shown into an apartment so pretty that Chris felt constrained to keep her eyes down, in deference to her mother’s wishes, lest her unseemly delight should be noticed by the servants.
It was indeed a most beautiful room which they now entered. Windows on two sides were at this time covered by the drawn curtains, and these, of dark blue silk, richly embroidered with conventional Chinese figures, gave a striking character to the apartment. The walls were lined with bookcases well filled with books, while in the corner, close to a fireplace beautifully decorated in the modern style, a piano stood temptingly open. A cabinet entirely full of Chinese models and toys carved in ivory filled the remaining space against the walls, while under one window stood a long writing-table, and under the other two low-seated easy-chairs. In the middle of the room a small table had been laid for dinner for two persons; and this again excited the admiration of Chris by the quaint beauty of the old silver, and the magnificence of the Crown Derby dinner-service.
The room was lighted entirely by wax candles, in massive silver candlesticks, and this luxurious light completed the charm which her surroundings had thrown over Chris. The girl had been hungry on her first arrival, but she now found herself too much excited to eat. She felt that in this house of marvels something must surely be going to happen, and each time the door opened she glanced towards it with eager eyes.
When at last the crowning charm of the meal had arrived in the shape of dessert, served on the daintiest of Sèvres china, and the footman had left them to themselves, Chris drew a long breath.
“Mamma!” she said, in a voice in which girlish merriment struggled with a little real awe, “this is too much. It is so mysterious that it frightens me. All this magnificence just for the housekeeper and her daughter! Everything served in the most gorgeous manner, and no master to be seen. Why, it’s just like Beauty and the Beast!”
A short laugh frightened her so much that she started up from her chair. Mr. Bradfield, in a rough shooting-suit, stood just inside the room.
“That’s it, Miss Abernethy, or Miss Apricot, or whatever your name is,” said he grimly. “And I’m the Beast.”