This remark slightly relieved her feelings, and there was a good deal of venom in the tone in which she uttered it.
"I don't understand you," replied Cecil gravely.
"Well, I wonder you don't; I suppose I must explain myself. Our hostess looks like a dairymaid, n'est ce pas?"
"I am not particularly acquainted with the appearance of dairymaids," replied Cecil. "I think our hostess quite the prettiest girl I have ever seen."
Matilda shrugged her fat shoulders.
"Chacun à son goût," she repeated.
Cecil looked at her in a puzzled way. She felt surprised at Kate's going to the trouble of introducing her to such a girl, and after saying a few polite words, turned again to talk to Molly. Molly was in white, and looked one of the sweetest girls in the room. Her simple white dress, the innocent, open expression of her face, gave her something the appearance of a daisy. Cecil, pale, and in deep mourning, made a strong contrast to her friend. The festivities of the evening were now at their height. The girls laughed and joked, and walked from one room to the other. Kate was here, there, and everywhere. The birthday party became so hilarious that Kate's somewhat peculiar dress was forgotten; all was eager conversation and high mirth. Still, Matilda had her own reasons for feeling uncomfortable. Again and again her eyes sought the neighborhood of the door. But whenever she began to make her escape, Kate was down upon her.
"You are eating nothing, Matilda," she said on one of these occasions. "Come into the supper room. Oh, how hot you look! a little lemonade will do you good. Come in here; come with me. Hester, will you give Matilda Matthews a glass of lemonade?"
Hester hurried to comply. As she did so, Kate stooped to whisper to her:
"I don't want that girl to slip out of the room," she said. "Watch her; follow her; keep your eye on her."