For four long days had Mariquita Saville dwelt beneath Mr. Asplin's
roof, and her companions still gazed upon her with fear and trembling,
as a mysterious and extraordinary creature, whom they altogether
failed to understand. She talked like a book, she behaved like a
well-conducted old lady of seventy, and she sat with folded hands
gazing around, with a curious, dancing light in her hazel eyes, which
seemed to imply that there was some tremendous joke on hand, the secret
of which was known only to herself. Esther and Mellicent had confided
their impressions to their mother, but in Mrs. Asplin's presence,
Peggy was just a quiet, modest girl, a trifle shy and retiring, as was
natural under the circumstances, but with no marked peculiarity of
any kind. She answered to the name of "Peggy," to which address she
was persistently deaf at other times, and sat with eyelids lowered,
and neat little feet crossed before her, the picture of a demure,
well-behaved, young schoolgirl. The sisters assured their mother that
Mariquita was a very different person in the schoolroom, but when she
inquired as to the nature of the difference, it was not so easy to
explain.
"She talked so grandly, and used such great, big words."
A good thing, too, Mrs. Asplin averred. She wished the rest would
follow her example, and not use so much foolish, meaningless
slang.----Her eyes looked so bright and mocking, as if she were
laughing at something all the time. Poor, dear child! could she not
talk as she liked? It was a great blessing she could be bright, poor
lamb, with such a parting before her!----She was so--so--grown-up, and
patronising, and superior! Tut! tut! Nonsense! Peggy had come from a
large boarding-school, and her ways were different from theirs--that
was all. They must not take stupid notions, but be kind and friendly
and make the poor girl feel at home.
Fraulein on her side reported that her new pupil was docile and
obedient, and anxious to get on with her studies, though not so far
advanced as might have been expected. Esther was far ahead of her in
most subjects, and Mellicent learned with pained surprise that she
knew nothing whatever about decimal fractions.
"Circumstances, dear," she explained, "circumstances over which I had
no control, prevented an acquaintance, but no doubt I shall soon know
all about them, and then I shall be pleased to give you the promised
help," and Mellicent found herself saying, "Thank you," in a meek and
submissive manner, instead of indulging in a well-merited rebuke.
No amount of ignorance seemed to daunt Mariquita, or to shake her
belief in herself. When Maxwell came to grief in a Latin essay, she
looked up, and said, "Can I assist you?" And when Robert read out a
passage from Carlyle, she laid her head on one side and said, "Now, do
you know, I am not altogether sure that I am with him on that point!"
with an assurance which paralysed the hearers.
Esther and Mellicent discussed seriously together as to whether
they liked, or disliked, this extraordinary creature, and had great
difficulty in coming to a conclusion. She teased, puzzled, aggravated,
and provoked them; therefore, if they had any claim to be logical, they
should dislike her cordially, yet somehow or other they could not bring
themselves to say that they disliked Mariquita. There were moments
when they came perilously near loving the aggravating creature.
Already it gave them quite a shock to look back upon the time when
there was no Peggy Saville to occupy their thoughts, and life without
the interest of her presence would have seemed unspeakably flat and
uninteresting. She was a bundle of mystery. Even her looks seemed to
exercise an uncanny fascination. On the evening of her arrival the
unanimous opinion had been that she was decidedly plain, but there was
something about the pale little face which always seemed to invite a
second glance, and the more closely you gazed, the more complete was
the feeling of satisfaction.
"Her face is so neat," Mellicent said to herself, and the adjective was
not inappropriate, for Peggy's small features looked as though they had
been modelled by the hand of a fastidious artist, and the air of dainty
finish extended to her hands and feet, and slight graceful figure.
The subject came up for discussion on the third evening after Peggy's
arrival, when she had been called out of the room to speak to Mrs.
Asplin for a few minutes. Esther gazed after her as she walked across
the floor with her slow, dignified tread, and when the door was safely
closed, she said slowly--
"I don't think Mariquita is as plain now, as I did at first, do you,
Oswald?"
"N--no! I don't think I do. I should not call her exactly plain. She is
a funny, little thing, but there's something nice about her face."
"Very nice."
"Last night in the pink dress she looked almost pretty."
"Y--es!"
"Quite pretty!"
"Y--es! really quite pretty."
"We shall think her lovely in another week," said Mellicent tragically.
"Those awful Savilles! They are all alike--there is something Indian
about them. Indian people have a lot of secrets that we know nothing
about, they use spells, and poisons, and incantations that no English
person can understand, and they can charm snakes. I've read about it
in books. Arthur and Peggy were born in India, and it's my opinion
that they are bewitched. Perhaps the ayahs did it when they were in
their cradles. I don't say it is their own fault, but they are not
like other people, and they use their charms on us, as there are no
snakes in England. Look at Arthur! He was the naughtiest boy, always
hurting himself, and spilling things, and getting into trouble, and yet
everyone in the house bowed down before him and did what he wanted. Now
mark my word, Peggy will be the same!"
Mellicent's companions were not in the habit of "marking her words,"
but on this occasion they looked thoughtful, for there was no denying
that they were always more or less under the spell of the remorseless
stranger.
On the afternoon of the fourth day Miss Peggy came down to tea with
her pig-tail smoother and more glossy than ever, and the light of war
shining in her eyes. She drew her chair to the table and looked blandly
at each of her companions in turn.
"I have been thinking," she said sweetly, and the listeners quaked at
the thought of what was coming. "The thought has been weighing on my
mind that we neglect many valuable and precious opportunities. This
hour, which is given to us for our own use, might be turned to profit
and advantage, instead of being idly frittered away. 'In work, in
work, in work alway, let my young days be spent.' It was the estimable
Dr. Watts, I think, who wrote those immortal lines! I think it would
be a desirable thing to carry on all conversation at this table in
the French language for the future. Passez-moi le beurre, s'il vous
plait, Mellicent, ma très chère. J'aime beaucoup le beurre, quand il
est frais. Est-ce que vous aimez le beurre plus de la--I forget at the
moment how you translate jam. Il fait très beau, ce après-midi, n'est
pas?"
She was so absolutely, imperturbably, grave that no one dared to laugh.
Mellicent, who took everything in deadly earnest, summoned up courage
to give a mild little squeak of a reply. "Wee--mais hier soir, il
pleut;" and in the silence that followed, Robert was visited with a
mischievous inspiration. He had had French nursery governesses in his
childhood, and had, moreover, spent two years abroad, so that French
came as naturally to him as his own mother tongue. The temptation
to discompose Miss Peggy was too strong to be resisted. He raised
his dark, square-chinned face, looked straight into her eyes, and
rattled out a long, breathless sentence, to the effect that there was
nothing so necessary as conversation if one wished to master a foreign
language; that he had talked French in the nursery; and that the same
Marie who had nursed him as a baby, was still in his father's service,
and acted as maid to his only sister. She was getting old now, but was
a most faithful creature, devoted to the family, though she had never
overcome her prejudices against England, and English ways. He rattled
on until he was fairly out of breath, and Peggy leant her little
chin on her hand, and stared at him with an expression of absorbing
attention. Esther felt convinced that she did not understand a word of
what was being said, but the moment that Robert stopped, she threw back
her head, clasped her hands together, and exclaimed--
"Mais certainement, avec pleasure!" with such vivacity and Frenchiness
of manner, that she was forced into unwilling admiration.
"Has no one else a remark to make?" continued this terrible girl,
collapsing suddenly into English, and looking inquiringly round the
table. "Perhaps there is some other language which you would prefer to
French. It is all the same to me. I think we ought to strive to become
proficient in foreign tongues. At the school where I was at Brighton
there was a little girl in the fourth form who could speak and even
write Greek quite admirably. It impressed me very much, for I myself
knew so little of the language. And she was only six----"
"Six!" The boys straightened themselves at that, roused into eager
protest. "Six years old! And spoke Greek! And wrote Greek! Impossible!"
"I have heard her talking for half-an-hour at a time. I have known the
girls in the first form ask her to help them with their exercises. She
knew more than anyone in the school."
"Then she is a human prodigy. She ought to be exhibited. Six years old!
Oh, I say--that child ought to turn out something great when she grows
up. What did you say her name was, by the by?"
Peggy lowered her eyelids, and pursed up her lips. "Andromeda
Michaelides," she said slowly. "She was six last Christmas. Her father
is Greek consul in Manchester."
There was a pause of stunned surprise; and then, suddenly, an
extraordinary thing happened. Mariquita bounded from her seat, and
began flying wildly round and round the table. Her pigtail flew out
behind her; her arms waved like the sails of a windmill, and as she
raced along, she seized upon every loose article which she could reach,
and tossed it upon the floor. Cushions from chairs and sofa went flying
into the window; books were knocked off the table with one rapid sweep
of the hand; magazines went tossing up in the air, and were kicked
about like so many footballs. Round and round she went, faster and
faster, while the five beholders gasped and stared, with visions of
madhouses, strait-jackets, and padded rooms, rushing through their
bewildered brains. Her pale cheeks glowed with colour; her eyes shone;
she gave a wild shriek of laughter, and threw herself, panting and
gasping, into a chair by the fireside.
"Three cheers for Mariquita! Ho! Ho! Ho! Didn't I do it well? If you
could have _seen_ your faces!"
"P--P--P--eggy! Do you mean to say you have been pretending all this
time? What do you mean? Have you been putting on all those airs and
graces for a joke?" asked Esther, severely, and Peggy gave a feeble
splutter of laughter.
"W--wanted to see what you were like! Oh, my heart! Ho! Ho! Ho! wasn't
it lovely? Can't keep it up any longer! Good-bye, Mariquita! I'm Peggy
now, my dears. Some more tea!"
(_To be continued._)
[Illustration]
FROCKS FOR TO-MORROW.
BY "THE LADY DRESSMAKER."
If the French craze for plaids and tartans be followed in England,
it will be as well to remind everyone that there are certain people
to whom they are quite forbidden. I refer to the very stout and the
very thin. And it is to be hoped that these two classes may be wise
in season and avoid them. For the rest, the new plaids are, some of
them, pretty and in quiet hues, though I noticed, when in Paris, that
people liked them more vivid as to colouring, and one consequently saw
some very lively-looking ones in scarlet and bright red. These plaids
are more used as skirts than as entire dresses; in fact, the newest
departure in coats and skirts is to have the skirt of plaid and the
coat of a plain cloth which suits it in colour. For this purpose a
sacque coat is always used, and this is a fortunate thing, for they
suit all figures, thin and stout, equally well; but they, more than
any other description of jacket, require a good cut, as they are so
easily made to hitch up or to droop at the back by an inexperienced
cutter. And the oddest part of it is that no alteration seems to do
any good, for the trouble appears to lie deeper than that, in the very
foundation of the jacket.
[Illustration: JACKET WITH ROUNDED FRONTS. GOWN WITH TUNIC.]
The few notes that I have collected together on the subject of furs I
will use at the beginning of my article. Fur trimmings of all kinds
are very much worn, and so many of the winter gowns are decorated with
fur bands, that the fashion seems like a uniform. The peculiarity of
this form of trimming is that this season it must be accompanied by
bands of brightly-coloured velvet and generally with braid. Seal and
sable are constant favourites, and they will be used in combination
for the fitted-back jackets or sacque-backed ones, which are the two
shapes for fur jackets at present. Skunk and bear, which were last year
so popular, have fallen out of favour; but caracul is much used, and
has not been freshly named this year. So far as I can see, white satin
seems to be the popular lining for all fur jackets and capes, though I
have seen one or two lined with gold colour and pale blue. The capes of
fur follow the fashion of those in cloth and are flounced just as they
were last year, many of them; but this year the flounces are wider and
more visible to the eye. The collars of all fur garments are very high.
And, lastly, I must mention that long fur boas are expected to take the
place of the feather ones to which we have been so faithful.
As I look round trying to satisfy myself as to the fashionable colours
for the autumn, I find myself in a decided difficulty. There is a new
shade of lavender or hyacinth-blue, which is very pretty, but needs
to be toned down with white or black, and I am sure others will have
noticed that there is a perfect run on lavender-blue hats, which are
prepared for the winter in every shade of this hue. Then there is a
deep-hued tomato-red, which is very handsome in velvet, and a new blue
known as "old Japanese." Dark brown cloth, with reliefs of orange
velvet and satin; grey face cloth, with reliefs of turquoise blue; and
red with black cordings, are all fashionable winter mixtures. Pink,
ranging from a pale coral to a very deep du Barry rose hue, is quite as
much worn as ever, and from what I see, orange-colour is the same.
Both for day and night the hair is now dressed quite low on the nape of
the neck, in a coil of twists, and on the head and over the ears it is
waved in wide undulations, the front hair being cut short and curled
over the forehead. For the evening a rose fastened in by a diamond pin
behind the left ear is said to be the latest idea.
The reason of this change in the style of dressing the hair appears to
lie in the change in the style of the hats and bonnets of the season.
There is no doubt that, to the majority of Englishwomen, the hair
dressed in this manner is more becoming than in any other style.
In the way of new skirts we find several in which there are neither
pleats nor gathers at the back; but the most popular have two
box-pleats, on which there are placed (in some skirts at least) a row
or two of rather large buttons, from the waist to the hem. Dresses are,
I am sorry to say, being made very much longer in the skirt. They touch
the ground at the front and sides, and lie on it completely at the
back, while for evening use the long train is universally adopted. I
think the Princess-gown will be the favourite one for evening use, and
here sleeves seem to be banished entirely, a velvet ribbon or a flower
being considered a sufficient substitute for them. For walking-skirts
in thick materials, however, the sensible ones are to be left a choice,
so we shall probably see as many short skirts worn as long ones. After
all, the bicycle-skirt has to be considered, and many of us wear that
in the country nearly all day long.
Our first illustration shows two of the reigning winter and autumn
styles, namely, the three-quarter jacket, and the strapped cape, with
bands of cloth piped with scarlet silk. The figure on the left wears
a tailor-made and beautifully-fitting jacket of grey cloth, which is
braided with a darker grey braid over bands of paler grey cloth, the
lines running longitudinally from the top of the collar to the edge of
the jacket. The skirt is of plain cloth of the same tone of grey as the
jacket. The latter is lined with orange silk. The toque is of orange
velvet, with cream-coloured lace, and feathers and wings of orange and
black.
[Illustration: GOWN OF GREY CLOTH. CAPE WITH CLOTH BANDS.]
The second figure in the illustration wears a black cloth cape, lined
with scarlet silk, and piped with the same at each side of the wide
cloth bands, which make the decoration of the cape. These bands are
tapered gradually round the fronts and up the sides, where they are
crossed with ornamental straps which fasten the cape in front. The
collar is high, and is piped and lined with scarlet. The hat is of
straw, with scarlet and black velvet, and black feathers at one side,
and scarlet and black rosettes below the brim at the back and sides.
The next illustration consists of a single figure only, who wears one
of the new jackets of the winter, the material of which is dark green
cloth, braided in black, and edged with caracul fur. The new feature
in this jacket is the flounce of cloth of about eight inches in depth,
which is placed round the edge, and which is also trimmed with fur.
The hat is of white felt, with trimmings of green velvet, and green
feathers; and the dress worn is of green cashmere, with green velvet
trimmings.
The group of three figures fully displays one of the most stylish of
the season's confections, two views being given of it, a front and
a back one, on the figures which stand on the right and left. This
jacket is of cloth, tight-fitting, and of three-quarter length, with
the fronts rounded to the bands at the waist. It is trimmed with
bands of fur, and with cloth bands of a lighter colour, which taper
towards the waist in front, and on the bodice are arranged so as to
simulate an Eton jacket. The seated figure shows one of the new tunics.
The material is of dark blue cloth, and the tunic is cut to reach a
little below the knee. The bodice is open in front to show a vest of
apricot-coloured velvet which has white lace _motifs_ on it. The tunic
and the _revers_ of the bodice are edged with bands of astrachan, which
is laid on apricot velvet, edged and overlaid with fancy braiding in
black. There is a large collar high at the back, which is bordered in
the same manner, and lined with black velvet. The edge of the skirt
is trimmed with bands of astrachan, which are put on to match the
battlements of the tunic.
[Illustration: NEW WINTER JACKET.]
The very smart coats of the autumn are all made of a thick satin
_merveilleux_, which was used for the same purpose some years ago, and
seems to have returned to favour. Other coats are of black velvet, on
one of which a great deal of Irish crochet lace has been lavished as
decoration; but all of them are of the same three-quarter length, and
aspire to great perfection of cut and fit. One sees by these coats how
desirable it is to be slight in figure, for most of these fashions are
only suitable for the thin. Pipings are the predominant ornament; and,
indeed, this form of decoration is more popular than anything else.
Mittens are coming into use, and, for the evening, will perhaps
supersede gloves; the late tropical heat has rendered the most careful
people quite careless of their gloves, and it has been nothing
remarkable to meet well-dressed women in the street carrying their
gloves in their hands. The ribbon bands round the neck, which have been
so much used this year, are now being replaced by velvet ones, tied
in the same manner--in a bow at the back. It is rumoured that wide
strings of ribbon for bonnets are coming in again, but I do not think
it likely, as they add much to the look of age on the face.
Hats turned up in front were an introduction of the later summer
season; but they have taken immensely, and will be worn during the
winter, and it is well to remember, nevertheless, that they require
a plump face, for thin cheeks stand no chance at all, in their very
uncompromising lack of shadow.
_The following is sent by an anonymous reader in response to the
address on our Prospectus._--ED.
TO OUR EDITOR.
From his "Garden of Girls."
Dear friend, you will find in your "garden of girls"
That not "rosebuds" alone may be seen,
There the blue-bell of Scotland her petals unfurls,
And the shamrock her trefoil of green.
And when through your garden in spirit you roam,
While the sun in the West slowly pales,
Soft music will steal on your ear from the home
Of the murmuring wind-harp of Wales.
And the song of the harp is the voice of the flowers
In grateful devotion expressed,
For a thousand weeks spent to provide them with hours
With mirth, joy and happiness blest.
THE RULES OF SOCIETY.
BY LADY WILLIAM LENNOX.