I knew her at once when I went down to the drawing-room. There were
three other strange women there, but I knew she was the only one who
could be Mrs. Rennie. I felt such a horrible queer sinking feeling at
my heart when I saw her. Oh, she was beautiful ... I had never seen
anyone so beautiful. And Sidney was standing beside her, talking to
her, with a smile on his face, but none in his eyes ... I noticed
_that_ at a glance.
She was so tall and slender and willowy. Her dress was wonderful, and
her bare throat and shoulders were like pearls. Her hair was pale,
pale gold, and her eyes long-lashed and sweet, and her mouth like a
scarlet blossom against her creamy face. I thought of how I must look
beside her ... an awkward little girl in a short skirt with my hair in
a braid and too many hands and feet, and I would have given anything
then to be tall and grown-up and graceful.
I watched her all the evening and the queer feeling in me somewhere
grew worse and worse. I couldn't eat anything. Sidney took Mrs. Rennie
in; they sat opposite to me and talked all the time.
I was so glad when the dinner was over and everybody gone. The first
thing I did when I escaped to my room was to go to the glass and look
myself over just as critically and carefully as if I were somebody
else. I saw a great rope of dark brown hair ... a brown skin with red
cheeks ... a big red mouth ... a pair of grey eyes. That was all. And
when I thought of that shimmering witch woman with her white skin and
shining hair I wanted to put out the light and cry in the dark. Only
I've never cried since I was a child and broke my last doll, and I've
got so out of the habit that I don't know how to go about it.
* * * * *
April Fifth.
Aunt Jemima would not think I was getting the good out of my diary. A
whole month and not a word! But there was nothing to write, and I've
felt too miserable to write if there had been. I don't know what is
the matter with me. I'm just cross and horrid to everyone, even to
poor Sidney.
Mrs. Rennie has been queening it in Riverton society for the past
month. People rave over her and I admire her horribly, although I
don't like her. Mrs. Burnett says that a match between her and Sidney
Elliot is a foregone conclusion.
It's plain to be seen that Mrs. Rennie loves Sidney. Even I can see
that, and I don't know much about such things. But it puzzles me to
know how Sidney regards her. I have never thought he showed any sign
of really caring for her. But then, he isn't the kind that would.
"Nic, I wonder if you will ever grow up," he said to me today,
laughing, when he caught me racing over the lawn with the dogs.
"I'm grown up now," I said crossly. "Why, I'm eighteen and a half and
I'm two inches taller than any of the other girls."
Sidney laughed, as if he were heartily amused at something.
"You're a blessed baby," he said, "and the dearest, truest, jolliest
little chum ever a fellow had. I don't know what I'd do without you,
Nic. You keep me sane and wholesome. I'm a tenfold better man for
knowing you, little girl."