Betty eyed the woman with a distinct feeling of repugnance and yet thought herself unjust.
“Go fetch me a dish of tea,” she said languidly, “and I will think about to-day. Dear me, what a bore it is to wear clothes; if only one had feathers!”
Melissa stared but went to fetch the tea, a luxury much affected by the rich, for tea-drinking came into fashion at the East India houses in the time of Charles the Second.
Lady Betty did not wish the tea; however, she wanted to be rid of Melissa, and she went back to the window and looked out eagerly. The black horse and groom were both gone, and she turned away disappointed.
Two hours later, Alice being still with Lady Sunderland, Melissa Thurle dressed Lady Clancarty for the gala day at the Newmarket races. And a wonderful work it was to dress a belle in those days of brocaded farthingales and long, narrow-waisted bodices, and heads covered with many waves and puffs and ringlets. It was not then the fashion to powder the hair, and Lady Betty’s beautiful glossy black tresses curled naturally, so that Melissa’s task was not the most difficult. The mass of soft, wavy hair was knotted low on the back of the head and escaped in curls about the brow and cheeks and fell upon the neck, while one or two black patches on brow and cheek were supposed to enhance the whiteness of the complexion. Melissa was skilful enough, in spite of her mistress’ prejudices, and her deft fingers arranged the curls, letting some escape in coquettish waves and ringlets and binding others back into the loose knot, which still allowed them to ripple in a lovely confusion.
Lady Betty sat, meanwhile, before a dressing-table, furnished with a small oval glass in which she could not only watch Melissa, but could observe, also, every curve and dimple of her own charming face. Whether its reflection really satisfied her, or she had other and more fruitful sources of content, can only be conjectured, but certain it is that she smiled a little and bore the tirewoman’s deft touches with apparent complacence. Melissa, encouraged by her expression, began to talk to her in a soft purring fashion as she worked.
“The house is full, my lady,” she said, “’tis all agog below stairs now, and ’tis said there are two dukes, an earl, and five baronets under this roof, besides the countess and your ladyship.”
“Dear me,” said Lady Betty, “who are all these great people, and when did they come?”
“The Duke of Bedford has been here two days, my lady,” replied the newscarrier, “and the Duke of Ormond came yesterday; Mr. Godolphin, too, and Lord Wharton,—the others?—I know not when they came.”
“Who came this morning?” asked her mistress carelessly, at the same moment turning her head to admire a new knot that Melissa had made of her hair.