Both fear and hesitation vanished at the friendly tones of Annie’s voice. She hastily fastened on her necklace and earrings, slipped on her bracelets, and stuck the coral pins in her hair. She saw a dazzling little image in the glass, and turned away with a glad, proud smile.
“We can’t be kept waiting; are you ready?” called Miss Day’s voice in the passage.
“Yes, yes; in one moment, Annie, dear,” replied Rosalind. She wrapped herself from head to foot in a long white opera cloak, pulled the hood over her head, seized her gloves and fan, and opened the door. The coral could not be seen now, and Annie, who was also in white, took her hand and ran with her down the corridor.
A few moments later the four girls arrived at the Elliot-Smiths’ and were shown into a dressing-room on the ground floor to divest themselves of their wraps. They were amongst the earliest of the arrivals, and Annie Day had both space and opportunity to rush up to Rosalind and exclaim at the perfect combination of white silk and pink coral.
“Lucy, Lucy!” she said, “do come and look at Rosalind’s coral! Oh, poor Polly! you must miss your ornaments; but I am obliged frankly to confess, my dear, that they are more becoming to this little cherub than they ever were to you.”
Polly was loudly dressed in blue silk. She came up, and turned Rosalind round, and, putting her hand on her neck, lifted the necklace, and looked at it affectionately.
“I did love those ornaments,” she said; “but, of course, I can’t grudge them to you, Rose. You paid a good sum for them—didn’t you, dear?—although nothing like what they were worth, so, of course, they are yours by every right.”
“You have paid off the debt? I congratulate you, Rose,” said Annie Day.
“Yes,” said Rosalind, blushing.
“I am glad you were able to get the money, my dear.”