“I want Aunt Roxbury to see Graeme looking her very best. Graeme will look like a queen among us. Aunt will see that Allan and I have good reasons for our admiration. Fancy any of these trumpery people patronising Graeme! But you are not to tell her what I say. You don’t think she was really vexed with me, do you? And she must wear her new peach-blossom silk. I am so glad.”
But poor little Lilias went through deep waters, before the peach-blossom silk was worn by Graeme. Mr Elphinstone was brought very near the gates of death, and anxious days and nights were passed by his daughter at his bedside. Mrs Roxbury would have recalled her invitations, and Lilias’ soul sickened at the thought of the entertainment; but when the immediate danger was over, events fell into their usual channel, and though she gave no more assistance, either by word or deed, her aunt counted on her presence on the occasion, and even her father insisted that it was right for her to go.
“And so, my love,” said Mrs Roxbury, “as your father and I see no impropriety in your coming, there can be none, and you will enjoy it, indeed you will. You are tired now.”
“Impropriety! it is not that I don’t wish to go. I cannot bear the thought of going.”
“Nonsense! you are overtired, that is all. And Mr Ruthven will be here by that time, and I depend on you to bring him.”
But if Allan’s presence had depended on Lilias, Mrs Roxbury would not have seen him in her splendid rooms that night. It was Mr Elphinstone that reminded her of the note that awaited the return of her cousin, and it was he who insisted that they should appear, for at least an hour or two, at the party. And they went together, a little constrained and uncomfortable, while they were alone, but to all appearance at their ease, and content with one another when they entered the room. Graeme saw them the moment they came in, and she saw, too, many a significant glance exchanged, as they made their way together to Mrs Roxbury.
Lilias saw Graeme almost as soon. She was standing near the folding-doors, seemingly much interested in what Mr Proudfute, her brother’s friend, was saying to her.
“There, aunt,” said Lilias, eagerly, when the greetings were over, “did I not tell you that my friend Miss Elliott would eclipse all here to-night? Look at her now.”
“My dear,” said her aunt, “she does better than that. She is very lovely and lady-like, and tries to eclipse no one, and so wins all hearts.”
Lilias’ eyes sparkled as she looked at her cousin, but he did not catch her look.