"Jill, do you know where my green check blouse has gone? I can't find
it anywhere."
"How should I know? I haven't taken it--wouldn't be seen in the horrid
old thing! Why are you worrying if it has disappeared? I thought you
said the other day that it was too shabby to wear any more?"
"So I did, but I want the buttons to put on a new blouse. It was
hanging up in my cupboard last week."
"I expect it's there still, only you can't see it because it's hidden
away behind your dresses. What is far more important is my umbrella.
Somebody has eaten it, I believe--it's simply _gone_!"
"You have left it at school again. You are always losing your
umbrellas."
"People steal them, I suppose, because they are so beautiful! Alpaca--
three and eleven! Mother says it's no use giving me a silk because I'm
not careful. That's bad reasoning! I should be careful if I had a
silk. But it's not my fault this time. I know I brought it home,
because there was an apple inside it which Norah gave me in prep. I ate
it last night, and this morning the brolley has vanished. It's hard
lines, for I shall get a rowing if it doesn't turn up, and it isn't my
fault a bit."
"Oh, I expect you'll find it all right. It's so tiresome, because the
buttons exactly match this blouse, and I want it for Saturday," returned
Betty, too much absorbed in her own affairs to have any sympathy to
spare for Jill's loss. All the week long she lived in the thought of
Saturday, and when at long last the day arrived she could hardly wait
until three o'clock, so anxious was she to be at her post.
Mrs Vanburgh came to meet her at the door of the dining-room, looking
flushed and excited.
"Come in here!" she said. "We are beginning to set out the table, so
you are just in time. I want to have everything ready by the half-
hour."
"Who are `we,' I wonder?" was Betty's mental question as she crossed the
threshold, and the next moment brought with it a shock of surprise, for,
standing in the middle of the room, her hair shining like an aureola
round her head, stood no less a person than the Pampered Pet herself. A
plate of cakes was held in one hand, and a plate of bread-and-butter in
the other, and she stood stock still, staring at the new-comer,
apparently as much surprised to recognise Betty as Betty was to
recognise herself.
"This is my friend Cynthia Alliot; this is my friend Betty Trevor!"
cried Mrs Vanburgh, introducing the two girls with an easy wave of the
hand. "She can't shake hands, poor dear, so you'll have to take the
will for the deed. Where shall we put those plates? There doesn't seem
much room left."
There did not, indeed! Betty stared in amazement at the noble feast
which had been provided for the expected guests. The dining-table was
profusely decorated with flowers, which looked especially beautiful at
this dull, wintry season. Dishes of cold fowls, ham, and tongue, were
flanked by every imaginable description of cakes, both small and large.
Different sorts of jam were dotted here and there among the larger
dishes; tea and coffee cups were ranged at the farther end. It was, in
fact, a North Country high-tea of the most complete and tempting
description.
"Light refreshments are to be served in the drawing-room. This is for
those who can stay on for several hours. My husband is going to dine at
his club, so we can keep the dear things as long as they are happy,"
said Nan with a gush, while the two girls smiled at each other with shy
friendliness.
"Now I shall get to know them! Now they may get to like me, and ask me
to sit with them in their schoolroom," thought lonely Cynthia longingly.
"The Pet herself! She _is_ pretty! Miles would admire her more than
ever; and oh, what a blouse, and I thought mine was quite nice!" sighed
Betty dolorously.
Both Mrs Vanburgh and her friend were very simply attired, but with a
dainty finish and elegance from which Betty's home-made garment was very
far removed. She felt plain and dowdy beside them, and her spirits
suffered in consequence. Superior people may despise her for so doing,
but they don't understand how a girl feels, so their opinion is not
worth having. At seventeen it takes real grace to be a contented
Cinderella, and poor Betty did not at all enjoy the position.
It was difficult, however, for any companions of Nan Vanburgh to be
depressed for long together, so bright was she, so radiant, so brisk,
friendly, and confidential. The girls were sent flying hither and
thither until all the preparations were finished, then--
"Let's go out into the hall, and pretend to be governesses, and walk in
again, to see how the effect strikes us," she cried; and out they
rushed, like a trio of merry schoolgirls, drawing their faces into
expressions of abnormal gravity, to march back again solemn and slow.
"Pray be seated. You must be exhausted after your long walk. To what
can I assist you?"
"The breast of a fowl, please, and a portion of ham; a cup of tea and a
few hot muffins-- Goodness me, are you going to talk to the poor
creatures like that? They _will_ be daunted!" replied Cynthia, all in a
breath. She was not at all proper, Betty was glad to see, but as full
of fun as an ordinary commonplace girl. "What are you going to talk to
them about?" she demanded of her hostess, who shook her head in somewhat
helpless fashion, and replied--
"I don't know! I'm hoping for inspiration at the last moment, and
eating is a grand resource! Ply them well with muffins till the ice is
broken--"
At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the sound of an
electric bell, upon hearing which Mrs Vanburgh uttered a sharp
exclamation of dismay, and rushed for the hall. Her two assistants
followed, but even they in their schoolgirl stage could not keep up with
the pace at which she literally flew up the staircase. Her feet seemed
hardly to touch the ground; she sprang up two steps at a time, crying
continuously, "Quick, quick!" until, just as the head of the staircase
was reached, cr-r-r-ur! Came the sounds of ripping seams, and a long
dangle of silk flounce showed underneath her skirt.
"Just my luck!" she cried disconsolately. "It never seems as if I could
get upstairs like anyone else. Now they'll think I'm an untidy wretch,
and it will all be spoiled. What's the use of silk flounces anyway?
I'll never have another--I vow I won't! There! I'll pin it up with a
brooch till they've gone. We must be in the drawing-room ready to
receive. Cynthia, sit over there, and pretend to be reading. Miss
Trevor, you might be casually poking the fire. Whatever we do, we
mustn't alarm the poor dears by looking formal."
"I am a great deal more alarmed of the poor dears than they will be of
me! My sister Jill pretended to swoon at the idea of a room full of
governesses. She said it was more like a nightmare than a piece of real
life."
"Hush!" whispered Mrs Vanburgh tragically. "They come!" for footsteps
were heard ascending the staircase, and the assistants flew to their
posts, while the hostess endeavoured to hum a tune in a light and jaunty
manner.
Another moment and the door was thrown open to disclose--a servant,
bearing a note upon a silver salver. It was not a governess after all!
The two girls came forward into the room, divided between relief and
disappointment.