Althea came up to the writing table as Waveney rose, a little confused, and held out her hand to the girl with one of her winning smiles.
"I was so sorry to be out when you arrived," she said, kindly, "but my aunt, Mrs. Mainwaring, sent for me most unexpectedly. I hope Nurse Marks took good care of you."
"Oh, yes," returned Waveney, shyly, "she was very kind."
"Oh, my dear old nurse is the kindest creature in the world. She literally bubbles over with benevolence. Is not the Cubby-house delightful? Did you see the toy cupboard, where all our dear old dolls and toys are stored? Marks won't part with one of them; she is quite huffy if we propose to give them away. When children come to the house, she lets them play with them under her own eye. One day she came into the library with a long face to tell me that little Audrey Neale had broken Bopeep's arm;" and Althea laughed quite merrily; then she looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, and uttered an exclamation: "Half-past seven, and I am not dressed. What will Peachey say? I will come back and fetch you directly the gong sounds;" and then Waveney was left to finish her letter.
She did not see Miss Doreen until they entered the dining-room, and then she welcomed her very cordially. To Waveney the dinner-table was a revelation. She had never taken a meal out of her own home, and the soft, shaded lights, the hot-house fruits and flowers, the handsome silver, and the fineness of the damask, excited her wonderment. The servant moved so noiselessly over the thick carpets, and then she thought of Ann stumping round the table in her heavy boots.
Ah, they would be just sitting down to supper, and Mollie would be mixing the salad as usual; for Everard Ward had learnt to enjoy a salad in his Paris days, and would sup contentedly on bread-and-cheese or even bread-and-butter, if only he could have a handful of cress, or a stalk or two of endive, to give it a relish.
Doreen and Althea were quite aware that the forlorn little stranger was not at her ease. The small, childish face looked subdued and thoughtful, and the dark, spirituelle eyes were sad in their wistfulness; but with their usual tact and kindness they left her alone, and talked to each other in their cheerful way.
Althea gave a description of her afternoon party, which was full of gentle humour; and Doreen had a great deal to say about the Home. She had had tea with old Mrs. Wheeler—and as usual the poor old soul was full of her grievances against Miss Mason.
"She is a cantankerous, east-windy sort of body," went on Doreen, with a laugh, as she helped herself to some grapes, "and she leads poor Miss Mason a life. But there! one must not judge her, she has led a hard, grinding sort of existence. Althea, these grapes are unusually fine; don't you think Laura Cairns would enjoy some? Ellen likes pears better;" and then Doreen heaped up a plate with fine fruit and bade Mitchell take it to the Brown Parlour.
When the sisters rose from the table Althea touched Waveney's arm.