That night Lady Agatha repeated the amiability to Emily, whose grateful amazement really made her blush.
"Lord Walderhurst knows Sir Bruce Norman," said Agatha. "Isn't it strange? He spoke of him to me to-day. He says he is clever."
"You had a nice talk this afternoon, hadn't you?" said Emily. "You both looked so—so—as if you were enjoying yourselves when I passed."
"Did he look as if he were enjoying himself? He was very agreeable. I did not know he could be so agreeable."
"I have never seen him look as much pleased," answered Emily Fox-Seton. "Though he always looks as if he liked talking to you, Lady Agatha. That large white gauze garden-hat"—reflectively—"is so very becoming."
"It was very expensive," sighed lovely Agatha. "And they last such a short time. Mamma said it really seemed almost criminal to buy it."
"How delightful it will be," remarked cheering Emily, "when—when you need not think of things like that!"
"Oh!"—with another sigh, this time a catch of the breath,—"it would be like Heaven! People don't know; they think girls are frivolous when they care, and that it isn't serious. But when one knows one must have things,—that they are like bread,—it is awful!"
"The things you wear really matter." Emily was bringing all her powers to bear upon the subject, and with an anxious kindness which was quite angelic. "Each dress makes you look like another sort of picture. Have you,"—contemplatively—"anything quite different to wear to-night and to-morrow?"
"I have two evening dresses I have not worn here yet"—a little hesitatingly. "I—well I saved them. One is a very thin black one with silver on it. It has a trembling silver butterfly for the shoulder, and one for the hair."