Now she had got to love the old nursery, though it was but a
dismantled place; and she looked all round, with a kind of
cat-like regret, at the idea of leaving it for ever in three
days.
'Ah Newton!' said she, 'I think we shall all be sorry to leave
this dear old room.' 'Indeed, miss, I shan't for one. My eyes are not so good as they
were, and the light here is so bad that I can't see to mend laces
except just at the window, where there's always a shocking
draught--enough to give one one's death of cold.'
Well, I dare say you will have both good light and plenty of
warmth at Naples. You must keep as much of your darning as you
can till then. Thank you, Newton, I can take them down--you're
busy.' So Margaret went down laden with shawls, and snuffing up their
spicy Eastern smell. Her aunt asked her to stand as a sort of lay
figure on which to display them, as Edith was still asleep. No
one thought about it; but Margaret's tall, finely made figure, in
the black silk dress which she was wearing as mourning for some
distant relative of her father's, set off the long beautiful
folds of the gorgeous shawls that would have half-smothered
Edith. Margaret stood right under the chandelier, quite silent
and passive, while her aunt adjusted the draperies. Occasionally,
as she was turned round, she caught a glimpse of herself in the
mirror over the chimney-piece, and smiled at her own appearance
there-the familiar features in the usual garb of a princess. She
touched the shawls gently as they hung around her, and took a
pleasure in their soft feel and their brilliant colours, and
rather liked to be dressed in such splendour--enjoying it much as
a child would do, with a quiet pleased smile on her lips. Just
then the door opened, and Mr. Henry Lennox was suddenly
announced. Some of the ladies started back, as if half-ashamed of
their feminine interest in dress. Mrs. Shaw held out her hand to
the new-comer; Margaret stood perfectly still, thinking she might
be yet wanted as a sort of block for the shawls; but looking at
Mr. Lennox with a bright, amused face, as if sure of his sympathy
in her sense of the ludicrousness at being thus surprised.
Her aunt was so much absorbed in asking Mr. Henry Lennox--who had
not been able to come to dinner--all sorts of questions about his
brother the bridegroom, his sister the bridesmaid (coming with
the Captain from Scotland for the occasion), and various other
members of the Lennox family, that Margaret saw she was no more
wanted as shawl-bearer, and devoted herself to the amusement of
the other visitors, whom her aunt had for the moment forgotten.
Almost immediately, Edith came in from the back drawing-room,
winking and blinking her eyes at the stronger light, shaking back
her slightly-ruffled curls, and altogether looking like the
Sleeping Beauty just startled from her dreams. Even in her
slumber she had instinctively felt that a Lennox was worth
rousing herself for; and she had a multitude of questions to ask
about dear Janet, the future, unseen sister-in-law, for whom she
professed so much affection, that if Margaret had not been very
proud she might have almost felt jealous of the mushroom rival.
As Margaret sank rather more into the background on her aunt's
joining the conversation, she saw Henry Lennox directing his look
towards a vacant seat near her; and she knew perfectly well that
as soon as Edith released him from her questioning, he would take
possession of that chair. She had not been quite sure, from her
aunt's rather confused account of his engagements, whether he
would come that night; it was almost a surprise to see him; and
now she was sure of a pleasant evening. He liked and disliked
pretty nearly the same things that she did. Margaret's face was
lightened up into an honest, open brightness. By-and-by he came.
She received him with a smile which had not a tinge of shyness or
self-consciousness in it.