“O, is that where you are?” asked the Child. “I’ve been looking all over but I couldn’t see you. Why, you’re Lady Arabella!” she cried, as she caught sight of a small figure, elaborately dressed, balancing itself on one end of the foot-board. “How did you get here?”
“Well, I simply had to come,” said Lady Arabella. “I had to get where it was warmer. Did I hear you say something about a furnace?”
The Child looked at her in surprise. “Yes; were you cold?” she asked.
“I should say,” replied Arabella. “Those marble halls are just dreadfully cold; they’re positively frigid. Sometimes we dance as you told us to, and that warms us up. But I was too tired to-night to dance.”
If Arabella could have seen the Child’s face she would have noticed how sorry and disturbed it looked. But it was too dark in the room for her to see distinctly.
“I’m sure I never thought of that,” said the Child, and her tone was penitent. “You see, I thought you would like the marble halls. But I never had any ’sperience with them myself. Why don’t you put on extra wraps when you feel so cold?”
“Extra wraps!” repeated Arabella. “I haven’t any. The only kinds of clothes I have are dinner gowns and ball gowns. They’re not very warm, you know. I often tie handkerchiefs around my throat when that gets cold, but they are only ‘dreams of lace’ and don’t do much good. Don’t you think you could get me a wrap or two?”
“Yes indeed, I can,” answered the Child. “I’ll see about it to-morrow.”
“And a matinee for mornings,” Arabella suggested. “Something that won’t soil, especially as I have to spend all my mornings in the conservatory.”