“And—er—you will not feel it necessary to dress on my behalf! I can make no change myself, so please don’t confound me by your magnificence.”
Lazy Nan consented readily enough, but once more the thought of the blue silk blouse sent a pang of disappointment to Maud’s heart. She should not be able to wear it after all, and the long hoarding up had been in vain. She reflected on the disappointing nature of earthly hopes, with a melancholy which would have done credit to Elsie herself, as she took her way downstairs to interview cook on the subject of dinner. It is one thing to give a promise to make no difference in a menu, and another to keep that promise to the letter, as every housekeeper knows; and even if circumstances did not allow of any substantial addition to the meal, there were a dozen little contrivances by which it could be given an air of elegance and distinction. They took time to arrange, however, as all such contriving do, and cook was cross at being asked to undertake fresh duties, and wished to know what people wanted coming worriting about a house when a child in arms could see he wasn’t wanted! Maud smiled at the reflection that, in this instance, the child would be vastly mistaken in his views, but did her best to soothe the offended dignitary; and finally matters were smoothed over by Mary being told off to help in the kitchen, while Maud herself undertook the arrangement of the table.
“Nan will help me,” she told herself encouragingly, as she mounted the staircase and saw through the window a procession of girlish figures making their way down the garden path, escorting Ned to a survey of the daffodils and spring bulbs, for which Mr Rendell was famous among amateur gardeners. Lilias walked first, a dainty figure against the background of fresh green; slim little Elsie picked her way daintily over the gravel; Agatha followed, large and beaming; and Christabel majestically brought up the rear. Maud pressed her face against the window and watched with a spasm of envy. Oh, to be out, enjoying herself with the rest—to let everything take care of itself, and take her place by Ned’s side! Too bad to be kept indoors when her opportunity had come at last, and the sun was shining, and all Nature seemed bright and gay! No one seemed to have thought of her, or of offering to help, except Nan—dear, good, thoughtless, and yet most thoughtful of Nans; and here she came, flying three steps at a time, upstairs to the rescue.
“Oh, you are here! I’ve been searching downstairs. Out you go! If there’s anything to do indoors, I’ll do it. Your place is in the garden.”
“I’ve been in the kitchen, and cook was so cross that I told off Mary to help her. I promised to lay the table.”
“I’ll do it for you!”
Maud tried not to smile. Well she knew what would happen if the work were left in Nan’s care. Crooked cloth, forks and spoons looking as if they had been tossed upon the table; as likely as not, no cruets nor water-bottles; and a general air of slipshod carelessness, which would more than defeat all her arrangements.
“I—er—think I ought to look after it myself,” she said apologetically; “but please help me, dear! If we work together we’ll get it done in no time, and then I can go out and enjoy myself with an easy mind.”
“I want you to go now. If you think I can’t manage alone, send in Chrissie. She’s even more particular than you, and I’ll do as she tells me like a lamb!” said Nan, not one whit offended at the implied slight on her own powers; but Maud shook her head.
“I couldn’t! I never ask help in an ordinary way, and I couldn’t do it to-day!”