“I am so thirsty, Walter; will you give me some ice?” said Augusta.
The man helped her to a strawberry ice, which she ate greedily. “Now I will have something to drink,” she said; “iced champagne—anything.”
There was no iced champagne, but iced claret-cup was forthcoming, and Augusta drank it, declaring to herself that she felt vastly better. She then went out on the lawn.
There she was met by Uncle Peter in his evening-dress, and soon afterwards the three girls joined them.
Nancy looked just as sweet as the genie thought she would when he selected her dress. Her face was pale beside the flaming colour which painted Augusta’s cheeks, but—there was no doubt about it—the little girl possessed the rarer sort of beauty. Nancy’s was of the spiritual order, filling her eyes with sadness and sympathy, and making the expression of her little face unworldly and high in tone.
CHAPTER XXXIII.—THE CROSS.
Never had Augusta looked so well as she did that night. She danced quite beautifully, and was really a brilliant young mistress of the ceremonies. Many were the admiring glances cast at her, and loud the admiration she evoked. For the time being Augusta was unselfish. She thought of the comfort and pleasure of her guests. She managed to make the awkward ones feel at ease, and the shy ones feel at home; at the same time she kept the too forward children in order—in short, she was invaluable.
Uncle Peter was especially struck both by her conduct and her appearance.
“She really is a fine girl,” he said to himself. “There is something wonderfully taking about her to-night; and how good she is, and self-forgetful! I shall have more pleasure than I had the least idea of a few hours ago in presenting her with the Royal Cross.”
As these thoughts came to him, he observed that Augusta was standing where the full draught of the open door blew upon her thin evening-dress. She shivered, and sank down on the nearest chair.