She was feeling deeply touched by her “little sisters’” evident devotion. And for almost the first time a faint suspicion dawned upon her that their ultra concern about her appearance might have a special cause. Her fair face flushed at the mere suggestion, though it was too dark in the fly for either of her companions to notice it.
“They are dear, good little things,” she thought to herself, “but they mustn’t fancying that other people see me with their eyes. And as for me, at my age it would be too absurd to begin thinking of anything of that kind for the first time.”
But the half-unconscious confession to herself that such a warning might be salutary was significant.
As the mother and daughter, followed by Mr Morion, made their way into Mrs Littlewood’s drawing-room—the larger of the two, well lighted and beautified by hot-house flowers, so that the impression was a brilliant one—more than one pair of eyes turned in their direction, to rest for the moment with pleasure on the stately girl whose dignity of bearing was scarcely perceived ere it was tempered by the charm of her sweet expression.
“She is beautiful,” thought Horace, while Mrs Littlewood thought to herself, “I had no idea she would light up so well—I am glad that Horace must take in her mother, and not herself;” while Madeleine turned with frank delight in her eyes to a dark, grave-eyed man who was, at the moment of the Morions’ entrance, standing near the fireplace talking to her.
“Do you know who that is?” she said, with a smile, dropping her voice.
“There are three ‘thats,’” he replied dryly, smiling too. “Yes, I think I can guess, for I knew whom you were expecting—your mother, by-the-by, seemed rather taken back on my unlooked-for appearance, and I was glad to find that her only reason was the fact of my cousins dining with you to-night.”
“Then you don’t mind?” said Madeleine quickly.
“Of course not,” he said, “why should I? No, I set your mother’s mind quite at rest by undertaking to smooth down the other side also—Mr George Morion, I mean. I should have known him anywhere, though it’s years since we met. I had better go over and speak to him at once.”
“He is still taken up with mamma,” said Madeleine hurriedly. “Do wait one instant. I want to know what you think of my special friend, Frances? I have been longing for you to see her.”