Florence dressed herself with great care for this expedition. Kitty
had shown her Sir John's letter, and she had felt a queer tingling pain
at her heart as she read it; but then a sort of defiance, which was
growing more and more in her character day by day, arose to her aid,
and she determined that she would not give Sir John one loophole to
find out anything amiss in her conduct.
"We are going to be spied upon, and it is perfectly horrid," she said,
under her breath, "but never mind, I am determined to stand the test."
The day happened to be a lovely one, and Florence looked carefully
through her wardrobe. She finally decided to put on the light summer
silk which Mrs. Aylmer had provided for her. She looked very nice in
that silk, almost pretty, and as all its accompaniments were perfect,
the lace ruffles round the neck, the lace hanging over her hands, the
trimmings of every sort just as they ought to be, the hat which she was
to wear with the dress, specially chosen by the London dressmaker for
the purpose, no one could look more elegant than Florence did as she
stood in the hall of Cherry Court School just before she started for
Cherry Court Park.
Kitty, on the other hand, had thought very little about her dress; she
had no fine clothes to wear, so she just put on a clean white muslin
dress, tied a colored sash round her waist, put her sailor hat on her
head, and ran downstairs, a light in her eyes and a pleased smile round
her lips.
"I cannot be anything great," she whispered to her heart, as she
glanced for a moment at Florence, who looked something like a fashion
plate as she stood in the hall, "but at least I'll be myself. I'll
try--yes, I'll try very hard to forget all about the Scholarship
to-day. I want to make dear Sir John happy, and I hope, I do hope
he'll tell me something about father and the time they spent together
outside Sebastopol."
Mary Bateman was the downright sort of girl who never under any
circumstances could trouble herself about dress. She wore her best
Sunday frock, that was all, and her best hat, and her gloves were a
little darned at the tips, but she looked like a lady and was not the
least self-conscious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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