"Do you like it, Miss Ashby?" Peggy Gates said, appearing at Brat's side.
Peggy was a very pretty creature. Pink and white and gold. Brat thought that if it were possible to cross Miss Parslow and Eleanor the result would probably be Peggy Gates. She accepted her introduction to Brat with composure, but managed to convey the impression that it was personally delightful to her to have Patrick home again. Her small hand lay in his with a soft pressure that was intimate rather than friendly. Brat shook it heartily and resisted a temptation to wipe his palm down his hip.
She accepted Bee's congratulations on her possession of the horse, allowed a decent interval for further contemplation of it, and then with an admirable display of social dexterity, lifted the whole family from the yard into the drawing-room of the house. It was called the drawing-room, and was furnished as such, but Bee, who remembered it as old Mrs. Vidler's parlour, thought the water-colours and wistaria wallpaper a poor exchange for the lustre jugs and framed engravings of Mrs. Vidler's day.
They drank very good madeira and talked about the Bures Agricultural Show.
And they drove home with Bee still looking as if someone had left her a fortune. She caught Brat's considering look at her and said: "Well?"
"You look like a cat that has been given cream," he said.
She gave him her sideways, amused glance. "Cream and fish and liver," she said; but did not tell him the translation.
"When all the fuss of Friday is over, Brat," she said, "you must go up to town and get yourself a wardrobe. Walters will take weeks to make your evening things, and you'll need them for the celebration when Uncle Charles comes home."
"What shall I get?" he asked, at a loss for the first time.
"I should leave it to Walters, if I were you."