"That will be charming," returned Althea. She looked more like Queen Bess than ever, as she stood in the circle of girls, with the light shining on her ruddy hair and soft ruffles. "Now, girls, we must take our places;" and then she beckoned Waveney to a long, high-backed settle that stood by the fire. The room was large, and a little cold, so a fire had been lighted.
Waveney looked round with intense interest. The Recreation Hall, as it was called, was of noble dimensions, and evidently well-lighted, from the number of windows.
There was a platform at one end, with a piano; and two or three easels and half a dozen round tables, with gay, crimson cloths, occupied the centre of the room. These were at once surrounded by groups of girls, some with books in their hands. The floor was stained, and some warm-coloured rugs gave an air of comfort. A well-filled book-case, a few well-chosen prints, and a carved oak chair known as "Miss Harford's throne," comprised the remainder of the furniture.
This evening Althea had vacated her throne for the settle, and a few minutes later Doreen entered the room, and with a pleasant nod to the girls, she seated herself by her sister.
Althea looked pleased, but she was evidently surprised. Waveney discovered afterwards that it was not Miss Harford's habit to attend the Thursday meetings. The sisters had their different hobbies. Doreen's active energies found plenty of scope in her "Home for Broken-down Workers," and though Althea had contributed largely to it, and always visited it at least once a week, it was Doreen who was the head and main-spring of the whole concern. The committee of management, comprised of a few personal friends in the neighbourhood, were merely tools in her vigorous hands.
"I wanted to hear Miss Greenwell's Rosalind," she whispered. And then a man's step sounded in the little passage. There was a quick rap at the door, the girls all rose from their seats, and Althea went forward with a smile of welcome.
"You are punctual to a minute, Thorold," she said, as she shook hands. "Miss Ward, this is our old friend, Mr. Chaytor;" but as Waveney bowed demurely, a sudden gleam of amusement sparkled in her eyes; for lo and behold! it was "the noticeable man, with large grey eyes" who had enquired the way in Ranelagh Gardens.