WHITE MUSLIN.
As the good little spinster was arraying herself on this particular
evening, having laid upon the bed the greater portion of her modest
splendor, she went to her wardrobe, and took therefrom the scored bandbox
containing her best cap. All the ladies of Slowbridge wore caps; and all
being respectfully plagiarized from Lady Theobald, without any reference
to age, size, complexion, or demeanor, the result was sometimes a little
trying. Lady Theobald's head-dresses were of a severe and bristling
order. The lace of which they were composed was induced by some ingenious
device to form itself into aggressive quillings, the bows seemed lined
with buckram, the strings neither floated nor fluttered.
"To a majestic person the style is very appropriate," Miss Belinda had
said to Octavia that very day; "but to one who is not so, it is rather
trying. Sometimes, indeed, I have _almost_ wished that Miss Chickie would
vary a _little_ more in her designs."
Perhaps the sight of the various articles contained in two of the five
trunks had inspired these doubts in the dear old lady's breast: it is
certain, at least, that, as she took the best cap up, a faint sigh
fluttered upon her lips.
"It is very large for a small person," she said. "And I am not at all
sure that amber is becoming to me."
And just at that moment there came a tap at the door, which she knew was
from Octavia.
She laid the cap back, in some confusion at being surprised in a moment
of weakness.
"Come in, my love," she said.
Octavia pushed the door open, and came in. She had not dressed yet, and
had on her wrapper and slippers, which were both of quilted gray silk,
gayly embroidered with carnations. But Miss Belinda had seen both wrapper
and slippers before, and had become used to their sumptuousness: what she
had not seen was the trifle the girl held in her hand. "See here," she
said. "See what I have been making for you!"
She looked quite elated, and laughed triumphantly.
"I did not know I could do it until I tried," she said. "I had seen some
in New York, and I had the lace by me. And I have enough left to make
ruffles for your neck and wrists. It's Mechlin."
"My dear!" exclaimed Miss Belinda. "My dear!"
Octavia laughed again.
"Don't you know what it is?" she said. "It isn't like a Slowbridge cap;
but it's a cap, nevertheless. They wear them like this in New York, and I
think they are ever so much prettier."
It was true that it was not like a Slowbridge cap, and was also true that
it was prettier. It was a delicate affair of softly quilled lace, adorned
here and there with loops of pale satin ribbon.
"Let me try it on," said Octavia, advancing; and in a minute she had done
so, and turned Miss Bassett about to face herself in the glass. "There!"
she said. "Isn't that better than--well, than emulating Lady Theobald?"
It was so pretty and so becoming, and Miss Belinda was so touched by the
girl's innocent enjoyment, that the tears came into her eyes.
"My--my love," she faltered, "it is so beautiful, and so expensive,
that--though indeed I don't know how to thank you--I am afraid I should
not dare to wear it."
"Oh!" answered Octavia, "that's nonsense, you know. I'm sure there's no
reason why people shouldn't wear becoming things. Besides, I should be
awfully disappointed. I didn't think I could make it, and I'm real proud
of it. You don't know how becoming it is!"
Miss Belinda looked at her reflection, and faltered. It was becoming.
"My love," she protested faintly, "real Mechlin! There is really no such
lace in Slowbridge."
"All the better," said Octavia cheerfully. "I'm glad to hear that. It
isn't one bit too nice for you."
To Miss Belinda's astonishment, she drew a step nearer to her, and gave
one of the satin loops a queer, caressing little touch, which actually
seemed to mean something. And then suddenly the girl stooped, with a
little laugh, and gave her aunt a light kiss on her cheek.
"There!" she said. "You must take it from me for a present. I'll go and
make the ruffles this minute; and you must wear those too, and let people
see how stylish you can be."
And, without giving Miss Bassett time to speak, she ran out of the room,
and left the dear old lady warmed to the heart, tearful, delighted,
frightened.
A coach from the Blue Lion had been ordered to present itself at a
quarter past five, promptly; and at the time specified it rattled up to
the door with much spirit,--with so much spirit, indeed, that Miss
Belinda was a little alarmed.
"Dear, dear!" she said. "I hope the driver will be able to control the
horse, and will not allow him to go too fast. One hears of such terrible
accidents."
Then Mary Anne was sent to announce the arrival of the equipage to Miss
Octavia, and, having performed the errand, came back beaming with smiles.
"Oh, mum," she exclaimed, "you never see nothin' like her! Her gownd is
'evingly. An' lor'! how you do look yourself, to be sure!"
Indeed, the lace ruffles on her "best" black silk, and the little cap on
her smooth hair, had done a great deal for Miss Bassett; and she had only
just been reproaching herself for her vanity in recognizing this fact.
But Mary Anne's words awakened a new train of thought.
"Is--is Miss Octavia's dress a showy one, Mary Anne?" she inquired. "Dear
me, I do hope it is not a showy dress!"
"I never see nothin' no eleganter, mum," said Mary Anne: "she wants
nothin' but a veil to make a bride out of her--an' a becominer thing she
never has wore."
They heard the soft sweep of skirts at that moment, and Octavia came in.
"There!" she said, stopping when she had reached the middle of the room.
"Is that simple enough?" Miss Belinda could only look at her helplessly.
The "white muslin" was composed almost entirely of Valenciennes lace; the
blue ribbons were embroidered with field-daisies; the air of delicate
elaborateness about the whole was something which her innocent mind could
not have believed possible in orthodox white and blue.
"I don't think I should call it exactly simple," she said. "My love, what
a quantity of lace!"
Octavia glanced down at her _jabots_ and frills complacently.
"There _is_ a good deal of it," she remarked; "but then, it is nice, and
one can stand a good deal of nice Valenciennes on white. They said Worth
made the dress. I hope he did. It cost enough. The ribbon was embroidered
by hand, I suppose. And there is plenty of it cut up into these bows."
There was no more to be said. Miss Belinda led the way to the coach,
which they entered under the admiring or critical eyes of several most
respectable families, who had been lying in wait behind their
window-curtains since they had been summoned there by the sound of
the wheels.
As the vehicle rattled past the boarding-school, all the young ladies in
the first class rushed to the window. They were rewarded for their zeal
by a glimpse of a cloud of muslin and lace, a charmingly dressed
yellow-brown head, and a pretty face, whose eyes favored them with a
frank stare of interest.
"She had diamonds in her ears!" cried Miss Phipps, wildly excited. "I saw
them flash. Ah, how I should like to see her without her wraps! I have no
doubt she is a perfect blaze!"