‘I could not think of taking it from your little niece if she is indisposed to part with it,’ said the great lady in a sweet voice.
Upon this the small lady by her side, who seemed to be about eight years of age, turned red in the face—the corners of her mouth drooped down—her eyes grew large and round, and out rolled one large, proud tear. But she did not cry or say a word.
Whether it was this one silent tear of the little lady, or the sweet voice of the great lady, or the look that her aunt had given her under her bonnet, I do not know, but Ellen, first giving me a kiss, lifted me up towards the carriage window, and gave me into the hands of the little lady with such a sigh!
‘Thank you, my dear,’ said the great lady, ‘I will take care to send you another handsome doll and doll’s cradle to-morrow morning, and something besides; and Mrs. Sharpshins, you can make me three or four more morning dresses the same as the last. I am in no hurry for them.’
The very tall footman got up to his place behind the carriage—the carriage drove off; the great lady nodded to Ellen; the little lady kissed her white glove to her; and Mrs. Sharpshins made a low curtsey, taking care to step just before Ellen in order that they should not see the tears that were just beginning to gush out of her eyes.
My new mamma, the little Lady Flora, was very pretty. She had a complexion like the most delicate wax-work, large bright eyes, a dimple in each cheek, and dimples all over her little knuckles. She had taken off her gloves to arrange my hair better, and began at once to talk to me in a very delightful manner.
We drove from St. James’ Park into Hyde Park, and on the way we passed a very great doll indeed, but looking so cross and black, and without any clothes on. ‘Look there, dear!’ said my little lady mamma, ‘that is the strongest and largest doll ever seen in London. His name is “Achilles,”—and the ladies of London had him made of iron and brass, because the Duke of Wellington was so lucky in playing at ball on the fields of Waterloo!’ The countess seemed much amused with this account. We met a great number of elegant carriages on our way, and nearly all the ladies inside exchanged salutations with the countess, and nodded to my little lady mamma. All who were elegant, and richly dressed, and beautiful, and in fine carriages with rich liveries, seemed to know each other, and to be upon such delightful terms of affectionate intimacy! ‘Oh!’ thought I, ‘here is a new world! Everybody seems to respect, and admire, and love everybody else! How very delightful!’
CHAPTER VII
THE WEST END OF THE TOWN
Our house was in Hanover Square, a few doors from the Queen’s Concert Rooms. There happened to be a morning concert on the first day of my arrival, and as one of the drawing-room windows, where I sat with my little lady mamma, opened out upon the balcony, we could every now and then hear the trumpets and drums, and one violin which squeaked so sweetly high above all the rest.