CHAPTER X.—LIGHT AND SHADOW.
As soon as she found that Madge was calm and ready to proceed with the duties of the day, Aunt Hessy bustled out to look after the maidens in the dairy and the kitchen. The other affairs of the house were attended to by Madge assisted by Jenny Wodrow, an active girl, who had wisely given up straw-plaiting at Luton for domestic service at Willowmere.
When clearing the breakfast-table, Madge found Miss Hadleigh’s letter, which she had forgotten in the new interests and speculations excited by her aunt’s communication.
Miss Hadleigh was one of those young ladies who fancy that in personal intercourse with others dignity is best represented by the assumption of a languid air of indifference to everything, whilst they compensate themselves for this effort by ‘gushing’ over pages of note-paper. Of course she began with ‘My dearest Madge:’ everybody was her ‘dearest;’ and how she found a superlative sufficient to mark the degree of her regard for her betrothed is a problem in the gymnastics of language.
‘You know all about dearest Phil going to leave us in about a fortnight or three weeks, and goodness only knows when he may come home again. Well, we are going to have a little dinner-party all to his honour and glory, as you would see by the card I have addressed to your uncle. Mind, it is a little and very select party. There will be nobody present except the most intimate and most esteemed friends of the Family.’ (Family written with a very large capital F.)
‘Now the party cannot be complete without you and your dear uncle and aunt; and I write this special supplement to the card to implore you to keep yourselves free for Tuesday the 28th, and to tell you that we will take no excuse from any of you. Carrie and Bertha want to have some friends in after dinner, so that they might get up a dance. Of course, in my position I do not care for these things now; but to please the girls, it might be arranged. Would you like it?—because, if you did, that would settle the matter at once. We have not told Phil yet, because he always makes fun of everything we do to try and amuse him. Papa has been consulted, and as usual leaves it all to us.—Please do write soon, darling, and believe me ever yours most affectionately,
Beatrice Hadleigh.’
‘P.S.—If you don’t mind, dear, I wish you would tell me what colour you are to wear, so that I might have something to harmonise with it. We might have a symphony all to ourselves, as the æsthetes call it.’
From this it appeared that Philip’s sisters were not aware of their father’s desire to keep him at home. There would be no difficulty in replying to Miss Hadleigh—even to the extent of revealing the colour of her dress—when Uncle Dick had consented to go.
When the immediate household cares were despatched, Madge sat down at her desk to write to Mr Hadleigh. She was quite clear about what she had to say; but she paused, seeking the gentlest way of saying it.