The Green Satin GownRichards, Laura Elizabeth Howe
General
The Green Satin Gown
Richards, Laura Elizabeth Howe
Children's stories
"Dear Miss Persis!" I cried. "What has happened? Have you had bad
news?"
Miss Persis shook her head. "Bad news? I should think not, indeed!
Child, Madam Le Baron wishes to see you. More I cannot say at present.
Not a word! Put on your best hat, and come with me. Madam Le Baron
waits for us!"
It was as if she had said, "The Sultan is on the front door-step." I
flew up-stairs, and made myself as smart as I could in such a hurry.
My cheeks were as pink as Miss Persis's own, and though I had not
the faintest idea what was the matter, I felt that it must be
something of vital import. On the way, I begged my companion to
explain matters to me, but she only shook her head and trotted on the
faster. "No time!" she panted. "Speech delays me, my dear! All will
be explained; only make haste."
We made such haste, that by the time we rang at the door of the
stone house neither of us could speak, and Miss Persis could only
make a mute gesture to the dignified maid who opened the door, and
who looked amazed, as well she might, at our burning cheeks and
disordered appearance. Fortunately, she knew Miss Persis well, and
lost no time in ushering us into a cool, dimly lighted parlor, hung
with family portraits. Here we sat, and fanned ourselves with our
pocket-handkerchiefs, while I tried to find breath for a question;
but there was not time! A door opened at the further end of the room;
there was a soft rustle, a smell of sandal-wood in the air. The next
moment Madam Le Baron stood before us. A slender figure, about my
own height, in a quaint, old-fashioned dress; snowy hair, arranged
in puff on puff, with exquisite nicety; the darkest, softest eyes I
ever saw, and a general air of having left her crown in the next room;
this was the great lady.
We rose, and I made my best courtesy,--we courtesied then, my dear,
instead of bowing like pump-handles,--and she spoke to us in a soft
old voice, that rustled like the silk she wore, though it had a clear
sound, too. "So this is the child!" she said. "I trust you are very
well, my dear! And has Miss Elderby told you of the small particular
in which you can oblige me?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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