Yes; the stars at least would be propitious. Although there were great banks of cloud coming up from the west, they were moving slowly, and he did not think they would interfere with the enjoyment of that Christmas dinner.
Lieutenant Reid was the very first of the guests to arrive at the Arbuthnots’ house. In fact, he was so much too early that the little maid who was hired for the occasion had not her cap on, and kept him waiting at the hall door for a considerable time. But at last he was admitted, and was ushered into the Colonel’s smoking-room, that apartment being set aside for the accommodation of the gentleman guests. There Reid changed his walking shoes for his pumps, took off his overcoat, looked at his face in the glass, saw that his button-hole was in perfect order, and was the very first to enter the drawing-room.
There he saw to his immense satisfaction Susie Arbuthnot standing by the fire quite alone. The Colonel had not yet come downstairs. Susie, in that grey barège, with a flush of excitement all over her face, Susie with her very stout figure, her diamond brooch, her pearl necklace, gave Reid an extraordinary desire to laugh. While all the world was going on, poor Susie was standing still. It flashed through his mind after a minute’s reflection that when he and Florence were married, they would send her anonymously a fashionable new dinner dress. He began to consider what colour it ought to be—purple, mauve, red, violet? He decided to leave the choice of the dress to Florence, who, of course, would know all about such things. Meanwhile, he went eagerly up to shake hands with the little lady.
“You are early, Captain,” she said.
She invariably called him “Captain,” and although he had no right whatever to the name, he enjoyed the sound very much, and never dreamed of correcting her.
“I do hope,” she continued, her brow puckering slightly, “that nothing has occurred to keep your dear, good father from joining in our Christmas festivities. I don’t know what the Colonel would say if the Major were not present at our Christmas dinner. Do tell me at once, Captain, that nothing is wrong with your esteemed father.”
“Nothing whatever,” said Reid; “he is coming along presently in one of Hoggs’ cabs. I thought I would come first for the simple reason that I want to have a word alone with you, Miss Susie.”
“Oh, I am only too delighted,” said Susie; and she rustled her silk petticoat as she spoke, getting closer to the young man, and looking redder in the face than ever. “What is it? If there is anything in my power—”
“Oh, it is quite a simple matter,” he said. “You know I dine out a great deal, but I may say without verging a hair’s line from the truth, that I never enjoy any dinners as I do yours—a little old-fashioned of course—but so good, the food so—A.1. Now I noticed last Christmas that you, Miss Susie—ah! Miss Susie!—you must have been in London since I saw you last and picked up some of the modes of the great world. I noticed that you had adopted some of the latest London fashions: for instance, the names of the guests put beside their plates.”
“It was Lady Lorrimer, when she was here two years ago, who told me about that,” said Susie. “I generally use a number of correspondence cards, cutting them very carefully to the necessary shape, and printing the names in my very best writing. It helps our servants, and our visitors know where to sit.”