Cécile stared in amazement, but there was no mistaking the girl’s sincerity. Her eyes were bright with anger, she held her head at a defiant angle, and her lips were pressed into a thin scarlet line. Mildred was disgusted to hear that Lady Sarah had any share whatever in Cécile’s services. She wished with all her heart that she had not accepted the Frenchwoman’s offer. Now if the dress looked at all respectable on the day of the picnic, Lady Sarah would take the credit to herself, because she had allowed her maid to make alterations; and how dare she send contributions of her own, and give instructions as to what was to be done with them, without asking permission!
Cécile was quite awed by the young lady’s air of indignation, and carried away the white ribbon without a word of protest. She evidently informed her mistress of what had occurred, for after dinner the same evening Lady Sarah detained Mildred on her way to the garden, to question her on the subject.
“So, Miss Mildred, my maid tells me that you refused to use the ribbon which I gave her for your dress. Is that true, may I ask?”
“Yes, quite true. I told Cécile to tell you that I was very much obliged for the offer, but that I preferred to wear my own things.”
“You are very independent. Was the ribbon not to your fancy? Have you one of your own which you prefer?”
“Oh, no, it was beautiful; it could not have been nicer!”
“Your own is not so good?”
“Not nearly so good, Lady Sarah!”
Cécile might well have said that Mildred had the good, straight back, if she had seen her at this moment. Her cheeks were flushed, but her mouth had the stubborn look which her friends knew so well.
“You refuse, then, simply because you object to receiving anything from me?”