Young women -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction
"Oh-h, it doesn't matter! It was nothing at all important!" Rosalind
flushed, and had the grace to look a trifle ashamed of her own
ill-breeding, but she did not by any means appreciate the reproof. The
girls had not been ten minutes in the house, and already that
aggravating Peggy Saville had succeeded in making her feel humiliated
and uncomfortable. The same thing happened whenever they met. The
respect and awe and adoring admiration which she was accustomed to
receive from other girls of her own age seemed altogether wanting in
Peggy's case; and yet, strange to say, the very fact that she refused to
fall down and worship invested Peggy with a peculiar importance in
Rosalind's eyes. She longed to overcome her prejudices and add her name
to the list of her adorers, and to this end she considered her tastes in
a way which would never have occurred to her in connection with Mrs
Asplin's daughters. In planning the pink luncheon Peggy had been
continually in her mind, and it is doubtful whether she would have taken
the trouble to arrange so difficult an entertainment had not the party
from the vicarage included that important personage, Miss Mariquita
Saville.
From the bedroom the girls adjourned to the morning-room, where Lady
Darcy sat waiting; but almost as soon as they had exchanged greetings,
the gong sounded to announce luncheon, and they walked across the hall
aglow with expectation.
The table looked exquisite, and the guests stood still in the doorway
and gasped with admiration. The weather outside was grey and murky, but
tall standard lamps were placed here and there, and the light which
streamed from beneath the pink silk shades gave an air of warmth and
comfort to the room. Down the centre of the table lay a slip of
looking-glass, on which graceful long-necked swans seemed to float to
and fro, while troughs filled with soft pink blossoms formed a
bordering. Garlands of pink flowers fell from the chandelier and were
attached to the silver candelabra, in which pink candles burned with
clear and steady flare. Glass, china, ornaments, were all of the same
dainty colour, and beside each plate was a dainty little buttonhole
nosegay, with a coral-headed pin, all ready to be attached to the dress
or coat of the owner.
"It's--it's beautiful!" cried Mellicent ecstatically; while Peggy's
beauty-loving eye turned from one detail to another with delighted
approbation. "Really," she said to herself in astonishment, "I couldn't
have done it better myself! It's quite admirable!" and as Rosalind's
face peered inquiringly at her beneath the canopy of flowers, she nodded
her head, and smiled generous approval.
"Beautiful! Charming! I congratulate you! Did you design it and
arrange everything yourself?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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