Theo laughed with good-natured disdain. “Old in experience, indeed! Poor little country mouse, what do you know of life? You have never even been in love.”
“Oh, haven’t I, though! Shows how little you know,” cried Madge darkly. “I have never been out of it since I was eight years old. The first one was Tommy Egerton. Do you remember those Egertons who took The Chase for a year? Tommy was the little boy who wore a fawn coat with a sealskin collar, and dear little brown gaiters. I doted on him! And one day his mother brought him to call, and I had on a soiled pinafore. Oh, my feelings! I consider that my character has been warped for life by the humiliation I endured that afternoon. Then there was that freckled boy who used to send me valentines:—
“The rose is red, the violet blue,
And sugar’s sweet, and so are you.
“Dear, dear, how bashful I felt the first time I met him after that special valentine arrived! Then there was the curate who spoke through his ‘dose.’ That was the love that was born of pity! Every one abused him, so there arose in my heart that almost maternal tenderness and compassion which is inseparable from the love of every good woman. Ahem!” Madge glanced up with dancing eyes, then grew grave again and added slowly, “And now there’s that student at the Slade School. I asked him some questions the other day, and he was so kind! He has a lovely chin. I expect we shall be great friends. Look at Philippa growing pale with anxiety.”
“It’s all very well,” cried Philippa irritably. “I like young men myself, and wish we knew many more than we do, but we must be careful. I hope you girls will not make any friends until you have had time to judge whether they are the sort of people we ought to know. I don’t want to preach. I hate preaching. It is very hard to be in the position when it falls to me to say all the disagreeable things, but, situated as we are, we can hardly be too particular. We want to make friends who will be a help to us, not a hindrance, and whose influence can never be hurtful to Barney when he is with us.”
The mention of Barney brought a smile to each face, followed by sighs of anxiety, for it was impossible not to realise that the reckless, high-spirited boy would be a care as well as a pleasure. Stephen was already looking out for a suitable opening in the City, and, with Philippa’s consent, had written to Mr Loftus to ask his assistance in the search. As an influential shareholder in many large concerns it was likely that he would be able to find a situation, and his kindness of heart made it seem probable that he would put himself to some trouble on the boy’s behalf. So far no letter had been received in reply; but one afternoon about five o’clock the electric bell sounded through the little flat, and Hope ran to open the door to save trouble to the one small servant who was wrestling with preparations for the evening meal. She thought it might possibly be the postman with a letter from Miss Caldecott to say how delighted she was with the new song; but instead she found herself confronted by two life-size fashion-plates and, hidden away behind flowing skirts and ruffling chiffons, one small and dejected lord of creation!
The Loftus trio! Aunt Loftus come to pay her first call, on the very occasion when Mary had set fire to the pretty lampshade, so that the smell of burning pervaded the air, and a naked “chimney” took the place of rosy frills; when Philippa had felt too tired to change her morning-blouse, and naughty Madge had taken advantage of an idle hour to wash her hair, and was even now stretched before the fire in all the glory of a dressing-gown too old to be spoiled! Hope was speechless with consternation, but with the drawing-room distant about two yards from the front-door escape was hopeless, and she was obliged to introduce the visitors with what composure she might.
To the credit of their breeding, be it said, Philippa and Madge rose nobly to the occasion, and welcomed the unwelcome guests without either apology or confusion. Madge smiled sweetly through her wisps of hair, and discussed the weather in orthodox fashion, before sailing out of the room to clothe herself in more suitable attire. Hope was proud of her sisters, and unselfishly annoyed that she should appear to better advantage than they; for she had dressed early after her return from a wet and tiring walk. She met her cousin’s curious gaze, and sat down beside her with a friendly smile.
“You are Avice. I have so often wondered about you?”
“You are Hope. I have a picture of you as a little girl. It is so pretty! You haven’t changed a bit.”