Hildegarde assented cheerfully, and Miss Adams (for by this name she now introduced herself) put on her hat and went out. Hildegarde remained mistress of the situation, and occupied herself in tidying up the marble counter, brushing away the crumbs, and rearranging some biscuits that had fallen from their dainty pyramid.
Now voices were heard at the door, and a gay group entered. A splendid carriage stood without, and these rustling, high-plumed ladies had evidently just dismounted from it. There were four of them, and they were joined in another moment by two or three more. Apparently, all had been at some concert, for they were talking all at once, and Hildegarde heard the words, "Exquisite!" "Technique!" "Andante!" etc., repeated over and over. She became interested, and forgot for the moment her position, when something curious recalled it to her. She recognised, in one of the younger ladies, her cousin Blanche Van Dene, one of Mrs. Delansing's granddaughters; and almost at the same instant, she became aware that Blanche had recognised her, and that she was anxious to avoid any open recognition. Her eyes had met Hildegarde's for one second; the next, she had turned her back squarely, and was chattering volubly in the ear of her neighbour.
"'HILDEGARDE GRAHAME, IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S WONDERFUL!'"
A wave of anger surged over Hildegarde, leaving the very tips of her ears pink as it receded; but the wave of amusement followed it quickly, and the second wave bore a little spray of malice. Should she call to her, and say, "Dearest Blanche, how is your dear mother?" Or she might put on a twang—Hildegarde had an excellent twang at her disposal, and say, "Hello, Blanchey! Haow's yer haalth, and haow's the folks to home?" Oh! it would be fun! And surely the girl deserved it! Such bad form, to say nothing of bad feeling! But here Hildegarde seemed to hear a certain familiar voice saying, "My dear, a debt of rudeness is one that should never be paid!" So she held her tongue, and contented herself with looking hard at Blanche's back, which showed consciousness and discomfort in every line.
So intent was Hildegarde on her cousin's back, that she did not notice that one of the other ladies had turned round, and was gazing at her in perplexity; next moment a shout rang out, in a clear, joyous voice that made every one start.
"Hilda Grahame, in the name of all that is wonderful! My dear, what sky have you dropped from?"
Hildegarde started, and saw a splendid vision advancing towards her with outstretched hand. A girl somewhat older than herself, with the walk and figure of a goddess and the dress of a queen; a face of almost faultless beauty, and large clear eyes through which looked a soul like a child's; she was one of the famous beauties of the day, famous alike for her loveliness, her great fortune, and the pride of her ancient name.
"My dear," she repeated, taking both Hildegarde's hands in hers, "what sky have you dropped from, and what are you doing here?"
"Dear Imperia!" said Hildegarde, calling her by the old familiar school name that came naturally to her lips. "How delightful to see you! I am selling cakes; will you have some? There were some that I made myself, but they are all sold. Here are various others, doubtless inferior, but still good."