At this both the sisters laughed again, and said that she was a most amusing little thing. “But don’t say that to mamma, or it will quite strengthen her in her rebellion. She would like to sit in the sun, I believe. She was brought up in the barbarous ages, and doesn’t know any better. There she is moving off into the other room with your mother. Now the two old ladies will put their heads together——”
“Mrs. Ogilvie is not an old lady,” said Effie hastily; “she is my stepmother. She is almost as young as——” Here she paused, with a glance at Miss Phyllis on the sofa, who was still lying back with her head against the cushion. Effie felt instinctively that it would not be wise to finish her sentence. “She is a great deal younger than you would suppose,” she added, once more a little confused.
“That explains why you are in such good order. Have you to do what she tells you? Mamma is much better than that—we have her very well in hand. Oh, you are not going yet. It is impossible. There must be tea before you go. Mamma likes everybody to have something. And then Fred—you must see Fred—or at least he must see you——”
“Here he is,” said the other, with a sudden grasp of Effie’s arm.
Effie was much startled by this call upon her attention. She turned round hastily, following the movement of her new friends. There could not have been a more dramatic appearance. Fred was coming in by a door at the end of the room. He had lifted a curtain which hung over it, and stood in the dim light outside holding back the heavy folds—looking, it appeared, into the gloom to see if any one was there.
Naturally, coming out of the daylight his eyes at first made out nothing, and he stood for some time in this highly effective attitude—a spectacle which was not unworthy a maiden’s eye. He was tall and slim like his sisters, dark, almost olive in his complexion, with black hair clustering closely in innumerable little curls about his head. He was dressed in a gray morning suit, with a red tie, which was the only spot of colour visible, and had a great effect. He peered into the gloom, curving his eyelids as if he had been shortsighted.
Then, when sufficient time had elapsed to fix his sight upon Effie’s sensitive imagination like a sun picture, he spoke: “Are any of you girls there?” This was all, and it was not much that Fred said. He was answered by a chorus of laughter from his sisters. They were very fond of laughing, Effie thought.
“Oh yes, some of us girls are here—three of us. You can come in and be presented,” Phyllis said.
“If you think you are worthy of it,” said Doris, once more grasping Effie’s arm.
They had all held their breath a little when the hero thus dramatically presented himself. Doris had kept her hand on Effie’s wrist; perhaps because she wished to feel those little pulses jump, or else it was because of that inevitable peradventure which presented itself to them too, as it had done to Effie. This was the first meeting, but how it might end, or what it might lead to, who could tell? The girls, though they were so unlike each other, all three held their breath. And then the sisters laughed as he approached, and the little excitement dropped.