FOR ONE NIGHT ONLY
Sarah was indeed an expert hair-dresser, and she piled up Patty's hair in
soft coils, and twisted the curly tendrils into fluffy puffs, and though
the result was beautiful, it made Patty look like her own older sister. A
jewelled ornament of Lady Hamilton's crowned the coiffure, and this gave
an added effect of dignity. The lace gown was easily made to fit its new
wearer. Marie pinned it, and sewed it, and patted it into place, till
nobody would suspect it had not been made for Patty. But the long lines
of the Princess pattern took away all of Patty's usual simple girlish
appearance, and transformed her at once into a beautiful, queenly young
woman. The decolletee corsage, and the sleeves, which were merely
frills of lace, were very becoming; and the long train, which billowed
into a frou-frou of chiffon ruffles took away the last semblance of a
girl of eighteen. Notwithstanding her softly-curved cheeks and throat,
and her exquisite, fresh complexion, Patty looked quite the young woman
of society and could easily have been adjudged about twenty-four years
old.
Her eyes danced, as she walked sedately through the open door and into
Lady Hamilton's room.
"My word, Patty!" exclaimed that lady, "you're simply stunning in that
gown! You look as if you'd been 'out' for two or three seasons. Your
people would never forgive me if they knew how I've dressed you up."
"It was the only thing to do," said Patty, airily, as she began to draw
on her arms a pair of Lady Hamilton's long white gloves. "The wonder is
that you had plenty of all sorts of things to fit me out, and also that
they do fit so well. These gloves are just right, though I confess the
slippers pinch me just a speck."
"'Pretty never hurts,' you know," said Lady Hamilton, laughing. "Marie,
isn't Miss Fairfield a picture?"
"_Mais oui!_ She is _charmante_. It is amazing how the gown suits her.
She is _tres-belle!_"
With the grown-up clothes, Patty had quite unconsciously assumed a
grown-up air. She nonchalantly flung aside her train with just the same
gesture Lady Hamilton was wont to use, and she carried herself with a
dignity and graciousness of manner which would have been absurd when
wearing her own simple frocks.
[Illustration: "Marie pinned it and sewed it"]
"Gracious, goodness, child!" cried Lady Hamilton. "Come down off that
pedestal! You walk like a Duchess. It won't do, you know, really."
"I don't mean to," said Patty; "you know I'm a sort of chameleon. This
gown makes me feel as if I belonged in an opera-box, or had an audience
with the Queen."
"Oh, you goose! Stop your nonsense, and we'll go down to dinner. Mind,
now, none of those airs, or I'll send you back to your room."
Patty honestly tried to be her own simple-minded self, and would have
succeeded all right, if Herenden Hall had not been so lavishly provided
with mirrors. On the grand staircase she came face to face with a radiant
creature, and was about to step aside when she discovered it was herself!
Involuntarily she gazed at the reflection of the white-gowned lady, and
unconsciously an air of serenity, almost hauteur, replaced her usual
merry smile, and with a gracious mien she passed on down the stairs.
Lady Herenden awaited them in the drawing-room.
A brilliant assemblage was already there, for Patty's unusual costuming
had caused her some delay. After the first few introductions, Lady
Hamilton and Patty became separated, and the guests stood about
conversing in small groups.
Patty chanced to fall in with some very entertaining people, among whom
was the Earl of Ruthven.
The Earl was a handsome man, tall, and of an imposing presence.
When presented to Patty, he gazed at her with frank, though quite
deferential admiration. "So pleased to meet you, Miss Fairfield," he
said; "I adore American ladies."
Patty really felt a little in awe of an Earl, as she had never met one
before, and was about to make a shy response, when a slight movement of
her head showed her her own reflection in a nearby mirror.
Realising afresh that she was masquerading as a society lady, a spirit of
mischief suddenly took possession of her, and she determined to throw
herself into the role. So, with a pretty little toss of her head, and a
charming smile, she said:
"Thank you, Lord Ruthven; I adore Englishmen, too, but I know so few of
them."
"You've not been here long, then?"
"No, only a few weeks. And there's so much I want to learn."
"Let me teach you," said his Lordship, eagerly. "I do not think you would
prove a dull pupil."
Patty's eyes smiled. "No Americans are dull," she said.
"That's true; my experience has already proved it. I've met six, I think,
including yourself. But what sort of things do you want to learn?"
"The language, principally. I just want to learn to say 'only fancy'
occasionally, and 'd'y' see?' in the middle of every sentence."
"It's not easy," said Lord Ruthven, thoughtfully, "but I think I can
teach you in, say, about ten lessons. When shall we begin the course?"
Patty looked at him reproachfully. "If you knew the American nature at
all," she said, "you'd know that we always begin things the moment the
plan occurs to us."
"Good! there's no time like the present."
But just then their conversation was interrupted by the announcement of
dinner.
Patty hoped she would sit at table next the Earl, but it was not so. The
nobleman was accorded the seat of honour at the right of his hostess,
while Patty, as a minor guest, was far away across the table. But she
found herself between two affable and pleasant-mannered young Englishmen,
and instantly forgot all about her titled friend.
Indeed, the bewildering beauty of the scene claimed her attention, and
she fairly held her breath as she looked about her. The great oval room
was lighted only by wax candles in crystal chandeliers and candelabra.
This made a soft, mellow radiance quite different from gas or
electricity. On one side of the room long French windows opened on to the
terrace, through which came the scent of roses and the sound of plashing
fountains. On the other side, only slender pillars and arches divided the
dining-room from a conservatory, and a riotous tangle of blossoms and
foliage fairly spilled into the room, forming almost a cascade of
flowers.
The great round table was a bewildering array of gold plate, gilded
glass, and exquisite china, while on the delicate lace of the tablecloth
lay rare blossoms that seemed to have drifted from the circular mound of
flowers which formed the low centrepiece.
Twenty-four guests sat round the board, in chairs of gilded wicker, and
as the silent, black-garbed waiters served the viands, the scene became
as animated as it was beautiful.
Patty forgot all else in her absolute enjoyment of the fairy-like
spectacle, and was only brought back to a sense of reality by the sound
of a voice at her side. Mr. Merivale was speaking--the young man who had
escorted her out to dinner, and who now sat at her right hand.
"You love beauty of detail," he was saying as he noted Patty's
absorption.
"Oh, isn't it great!" she exclaimed, and then suddenly realised that the
expression was not at all in keeping with the dignity of her Princess
gown.
But Mr. Merivale seemed amused rather than shocked.
"That's American for 'ripping,' isn't it?" he said, smiling. "But
whatever the adjective, the fact is the same. Lady Herenden's dinners are
always the refinement of the spectacular."
Patty realised the appropriateness of this phrase, and cudgelled her
brain for an appropriate reply. She began to think that playing grown-up
was a more difficult game than she had supposed. Had she had on her own
simple little frock, Mr. Merivale would not have talked to her like that.
"Don't you remember last season," he went on, "when Lady Herenden had a
real pond, with gold fish in the middle of the table, and ferns and water
lilies round the edge?"
"I wasn't here last season," said Patty. "I have never been in England
until this summer."
"Indeed? I know you are an American, but you have really an English
manner."
"It's acquired," said Patty, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I
find my American manner isn't admired over here, so I assume London
airs."
"Ah, you wish to be admired?"
"Of all things!" declared naughty Patty, with a roguish glance at the
jesting young man.
"You'll probably get your wish," he replied. "I'm jolly well ready to do
my share."
This brought the colour to Patty's cheeks, and she turned slightly away,
toward the man on her other side.
He was a slightly older man than Mr. Merivale and was the squire of an
adjoining estate. He was quite ready to talk to his American neighbour,
and began the conversation by asking her if she had yet seen Lady
Herenden's rose-orchard.
"No, Mr. Snowden," said Patty, "I only arrived a few hours ago, and I've
not been round the place at all."
"Then let me show it to you, please. I'll come over to-morrow morning for
a stroll. May I?"
"I don't know," said Patty, hesitatingly, for she was uncertain what she
ought to do in the matter. "You see, I'm with Lady Hamilton, and whatever
she says----"
"Oh, nonsense! She'll spare you from her side for an hour or two. There's
really a lot to see."
Again poor Patty realised her anomalous position. But for her piled-up
hair and her trained gown, the man would never have dreamed of asking her
to go for a walk unchaperoned. Patty had learned the ethics of London
etiquette for girls of eighteen, but she was not versed in the ways of
older young women.
"We'll see about it," she said, non-committally, and then she almost
laughed outright at the sudden thought of Mr. Snowden's surprise should
he see her next day in one of her own simple morning frocks of light
muslin. Lady Hamilton's morning gowns were Paris affairs, with trailing
frills and long knotted ribbons.
"It seems to amuse you," said Mr. Snowden, a trifle piqued at her
merriment.
"You'll be amused, too," she said, "if you see me to-morrow."
Then something in the man's pleasant face seemed to invite confidence,
and she said, impulsively:
"I may as well tell you that I'm masquerading. I'm not a grown-up lady at
all. I'm not much more than a schoolgirl--not quite eighteen years old.
But--but my box didn't come, and--and I had to wear Lady Hamilton's gown.
It makes me seem a lot older, I know, but I had to do it, or stay away
from dinner."
Mr. Snowden looked first amazed, and then he burst into laughter.
"I beg your pardon, I'm sure," he said, "but I had no idea! And so Lady
Hamilton is your chaperon? I see. Of course. Well, we'll have the stroll
just the same, if you will, and we'll ask her to go with us."
"Isn't she the dearest thing?" exclaimed Patty, looking at Lady Kitty
across the table, and feeling much more at her ease now that she had
confessed her position.
"She is a beautiful and charming woman," agreed Mr. Snowden.
And then it was time for Patty to turn back to Mr. Merivale, for she had
learned that one must divide the time fairly between dinner neighbors.
"I didn't offend you, did I?" said young Merivale, eagerly. "You turned
so quickly--and--and you--er--blushed, you know, and so I was
afraid--er----"
But Patty was of no mind to confess the fewness of her years to
everybody, and her mischievous spirit returned as she determined to chaff
this amusing young man.
"What!" she said, reproachfully, "an Englishman, and afraid!"
"Afraid of nothing but a fair lady's displeasure. All true Englishmen
surrender to that."
"I'm not displeased," said Patty, dimpling and smiling; "in fact, I've
even forgotten what you said."
"That's good! Now we can start fresh. Will you save a lot of dances for
me to-night?"
"Oh, will there be dancing?" exclaimed Patty, delighted at the prospect.
"Yes, indeed; in the big ballroom. Will you give me all the waltzes?"
Patty looked at him in amazement. "You said you were going to 'start
fresh,'" she said, "and now you've certainly done so!"
But the American phrase was lost on the Englishman, who only proceeded to
repeat his request.
Meantime, Mr. Snowden was asking Patty for a dance.
"Certainly," she said, "I shall be pleased to dance with you."
"You'll give me more than one dance or you needn't give me any," grumbled
young Merivale.
"All right," said Patty, quickly. "Mr. Snowden, I've just had a dance
'returned with thanks,' so you can have that, if you wish it."
"I do indeed," he replied, enthusiastically, and Mr. Merivale relapsed
into a sulky silence.
Then Lady Herenden rose from the table, and the ladies all rose and
followed her up to one of the beautiful salons, where coffee was served
to them. Patty managed to secure a seat on a divan beside Lady Hamilton.
"You quite take my breath away, little Patty," said her friend, in a low
voice. "You are already a favourite, and in a fair way to become the
belle of the ball."
"I try not to act too old, Kitty," said Patty, earnestly, "but truly
everybody thinks I'm a society lady. They don't even look on me as a
debutante."
"Never mind, dearie; have all the fun you can. Enjoy the dancing, and
don't care what anybody thinks."
Encouraged by Lady Hamilton's approval, Patty ceased to think about her
demeanour and proceeded to enjoy the conversation of those about her.
Lady Herenden was especially kind to her, and singled out the young
American for her special favour and attention.