Lady Helen gave the signal, and we went into the drawing-room; there she said, eagerly:
"My child, you look pale. Are you tired?"
"No," I answered; "I am not the least tired." But then I added, rather petulantly, "I have too many flowers on my dress; the smell of the roses in these hot rooms makes me almost faint. May I not take some of them off?"
"By no means," she answered, and she stepped back a few paces and looked at me attentively.
"Really, Heather," she said, "you are, I believe, intended by Providence to look pale; that pallor in your cheeks, joined to the darkness of your big eyes, gives you a wonderfully interesting, almost spiritual, look."
"If you but knew," I answered, "how very, very little I care for how I look!"
I said these words defiantly. I was certain she would scold me for uttering them. She paused, however, as though she were listening, then she said:
"In future, my dear child, you may look as you like, and act as you like; for the present, just please me. Reward me for my good services to you by being my good little Heather on this one evening."
I was surprised at her words, and at the sort of affectionate admiration in her manner. She made me sit next to her on the sofa.
"You are not a bit fit to go to the theatre," she said. "I shall go with Frank Dolby; nothing will induce him to miss a play."