The tirewoman stopped, comb in hand, and admired too, her narrow eyes more narrow than usual.
“This morning?” she repeated thoughtfully, “I cannot think,—oh, yes, one of the housemaids told me that a stranger came late, on a black horse that he had ridden hard.”
Lady Clancarty listened attentively, forgetting to appear indifferent, and unconscious of the peculiar vigilance of Melissa’s pale eyes.
“The horse was in the yard this morning and showed hard riding,” she said thoughtfully. “Who was the stranger, Melissa?”
“’Tis said he is a horse jockey from London,” purred the tirewoman.
Her mistress darted a searching look at her but read nothing in that smooth face that was by nature as placid as a platter.
“Bring me my pale blue paduasoy petticoat, Thurle,” Lady Betty said, sharply imperious, “and my white and silver brocaded gown, and the mantle of silver lace, and my hat with the white plumes. Do you not know how to fasten a petticoat?—there—so!—and, stupid, my white silk stockings with the blue clocks, and the French slippers with blue enamel buckles,” and she made the woman fetch garment after garment with alacrity, and the glow in her cheeks would have warned even a less observant person than Melissa that Lady Clancarty was out of temper.
But the woman’s smooth manner remained unruffled, and not even angry words made her fingers quiver. She arrayed Lady Clancarty from head to foot, deftly and swiftly, and when the task was completed, and the beauty looked at her own reflection, a smile was forced to play about her lips, for never had a mirror reflected a vision more charming. Lady Betty, with her rich coloring, her full white throat, her perfect form, clad in a marvellous gown of white and silver, ruffled and ruffled with lace, and looped up at one side a little to show the blue petticoat; open, too, to show a neck as white as snow,—and arms to match were half revealed by the elbow sleeves, while her hat cast a shadow on those sparkling eyes. She gave the vision a look and then turned and motioned Melissa away.
“You have done very well, Thurle,” she said calmly, “and now you may go—ah, here is Alice!” and she relented at the sight of her favorite attendant.
Melissa, meanwhile, humble as usual, courtesied and withdrew, but not without casting a lingering look behind her.