"Oh, the walnut-juice, of course," said Miss Thompson. "But, all the same, I fail to understand."
"I don't want you to understand any more, dear Thompson; and you know you are quite a darling. You are coming out in the very nicest character. I hope I shall have more and more holidays, for I do like going about with you."
Miss Thompson was to remember Christian's remarks later on, but certainly at the present juncture they had no meaning for her.
When the young girl came back late that evening she was informed by nurse that Mrs. Mitford had sent her an invitation.
"You are to put on your very best company frock, Miss Christian, and to look as nice as ever you can, for you are to go down to sit with your mamma in her boudoir this evening. Mr. Mitford will be out, and you are to have supper with her. She means to have supper in her boudoir, and she says that you are to keep her company."
Nurse expected Christian to shout with delight, but she was silent and looked rather grave.
"Aint you glad, my darling?" said the old woman.
"Nursey," said Christian, "did you ever have the feeling that you were too glad and yet too sorry to be able to say what you felt? On the whole, I'd rather not see too much of mumsy at present; but if I must I must, and if I go I'd like to look nice. Make me very, very nice, please, nursey dear."
Nurse set herself willingly to accomplish this task, and Christian in her white silk frock, with its many ruchings and ribbons and soft laces, and with her fair hair hanging down her back, made as interesting and pretty a picture as the heart of mother could desire.
"There, darling!" said the old woman; "you are like no one else, my own Miss Christian. Kiss me and go."