“Not with this blue stuff it ain’t,” said Freddy positively.
“Jack,” said Lady Buckhaven, tilting her chin, “said he had never seen me look more becoming!”
“Sort of thing he would say,” responded Freddy, unimpressed. “Daresay you think he looks becoming in that devilish waistcoat he has on. Well, he don’t, that’s all! Take my word for it!”
Affronted, she exclaimed: “I never knew you to be so disagreeable! I have a very good mind not to invite Kitty to visit me!”
But this, as Freddy knew well, was an empty threat. Hardly had Lady Legerwood and her young guest left the breakfast-table than Meg swept in upon them, resplendent in a new pelisse of Sardinian blue velvet, and a bonnet with an audaciously curtailed poke and a forest of curled plumes; and displaying with ostentation the sables which had been her lord’s parting gift to her. Between her dread that some germ of measles, wandering adventurously down from the nursery-floor, might fasten upon her daughter, and her disapproval of sables and blue velvet, Lady Legerwood was for several moments too much occupied to present Kitty to the visitor. On the whole, it was her daughter’s lack of taste which most exercised her mind, for her own eye for colour, like Freddy’s, was unerring. “Ermine or chinchilla with blue, Meg!” she said firmly. “Sables never show to advantage! Now, if only you had chosen to wear the Merino cloth pelisse I bought for you—not the earth-coloured one, but the braided one in French green—it would have been unexceptionable!”
By the time this point had been fully argued, news was brought to Lady Legerwood that the doctor had arrived, whereupon, after hurriedly commending Kitty to her daughter’s care, she hurried away, bent on convincing the worthy physician that certain unfavourable symptoms, which had manifested themselves during the night, made it advisable for him to call in Sir Henry Halford to prescribe for Edmund. As the family doctor, a rising man, was at daggers drawn with the eel-backed baronet, it did not seem probable that she would be seen again for some appreciable time.
Meg, as good-natured as her mother and brother, would have been amiable to anyone for whom her kindness had been solicited. Had she found herself confronted by a dazzling blonde she would not have spurned Kitty; but it could not be denied that the discovery that Miss Charing was a brunette immediately confirmed her in her conviction that she would like her prodigiously. Both were little women, but Kitty was built on sturdier lines than Meg, who was a wispy creature. One of her admirers had once labelled her ethereal, which so much delighted her that she ever after took great pains to live up to it, dressing her feathery curls a la Meduse, wearing gowns of the airiest materials, and cultivating a fluttering restlessness worthy almost of that still more ethereal beauty, Lady Caroline Lamb. As a debutante she had not been remarkable, for there were many prettier damsels, and her mother’s sense of propriety allowed her natural liveliness little scope. But she had made an excellent marriage, and had speedily discovered that the wedded state exactly suited her. Matched with an affluent peer, a good many years her senior, she found that the world of ton had far more to offer a dashing young matron than ever she had suspected when she was demure Miss Standen. Her husband regarded her with doating fondness; she had as much pin-money as she could spend; and she was able to gather round her a court of gentlemen who were far too wary to pay marked attentions to unmarried maidens. She had a considerable affection for her lord, and was very disconsolate to be obliged to part from him for perhaps as much as a year, even crying herself to sleep for three nights in succession; but since her disposition was volatile, she soon recovered from this state of despondency, and had now nothing to worry her but the dread of being obliged to live with her mother-in-law, and the certainty that her pregnancy would compel her to give up going to balls right in the middle of the London Season.
Most of this she poured into Kitty’s ears, but as her conversation was even more inconsequent than Lady Legerwood’s, Kitty was quite bewildered, and had great difficulty in unravelling the thread of her discourse. However, Freddy arrived in Mount Street presently, and had no hesitation in putting an end to his sister’s chatter by demanding to know if all had been settled between her and Miss Charing. When he learned that the matter had not yet been touched on, he was quite indignant, for he had hoped that no further strain need be placed upon his powers of contrivance. He now perceived that since he was cursed with a rattle for a sister he would be obliged to assume control of the affair. He spoke severely to both ladies, which drew a giggle from each, and provoked Meg into rallying him on his unlover-like behaviour. Blushing deeply, he then bestowed a chaste salute on Kitty’s cheek, saying apologetically: “Forgot!”
Fortunately for the deception, Meg was pondering deeply, and took no note of this somewhat peculiar remark. She said suddenly: “No one must be allowed to see you until you are gowned, Kitty!”
Miss Charing, who had been miserably conscious of her outmoded raiment from the moment of setting eyes on Lady Legerwood’s elegance, heartily assented to this.