“Hullo! Cousin Robin, hurry up, you’ll need all your time!” It was Carnaby of course who saluted Robinette thus, as she came towards the house on her return from Wittisham.
“I’m not late, am I?” she said, consulting her watch.
“I thought you’d be making a tremendous toilette; one of your killing ones to-night,” Carnaby said. “Do! I love to see you all dressed up till old Smeardon’s eyes look as if they would drop out when you come into the room.”
“I’ll wear my black dress, and her eyes may remain in her head,” Robinette laughed.
“And what about Mark’s eyes? Wouldn’t you like them to drop out?” the boy asked mischievously. “He’s come back by the afternoon 235 train while you were away at Wittisham.”
“Oh, has he?” Robinette said, and Carnaby stared so hard at her, that to her intense annoyance she blushed hotly.
“Horrid lynx-eyed boy,” she said to herself as she ran upstairs, “He’s growing up far too quickly. He needs to be snubbed.” She dashed to the wardrobe, pulled out the black garment, and gave it a vindictive shake. “Old, dowdy, unbecoming, deaconess-district-visitor-bible-woman, great-grand-auntly thing!” she cried.
Then her eye lighted on a cherished lavender satin. She stood for a moment deliberating, the black dress over her arm, her eyes fixed upon the lavender one that hung in the wardrobe.
“I don’t care,” she cried suddenly: “I’ll wear the lavender, so here goes! Men are all colour blind, so he’ll merely notice that I look nice. I must conceal from myself and everybody else how depressed I am over the interview 236 with Nurse, and how I dread discussing the cottage with Aunt de Tracy. That must be done the first thing after dinner, or I shall lose what little courage I have.”
Lavendar thought he had never seen her look so lovely as when he met her in the drawing room a quarter of an hour later. There was nothing extraordinary about the dress but its exquisite tint and the sheen of the soft satin. The suggestion that lay in the colour was entirely lost upon him, however: if asked to name it he would doubtless have said “purplish.” How he wished that he might have escorted her into the dining room, but Mrs. de Tracy was his portion as usual, and Robinette was waiting for Carnaby, who seemed unaccountably slow.