The carriages were announced, and Mr. Edmonstone began to call the ladies, adding tenfold to the confusion in the dressing-room. There was Laura being completed by the lady's maid, Amabel embellishing Mary, Mrs. Edmonstone with her arm loaded with shawls, Charlotte flourishing about. Poor Mary--it was much against her will--but she had no heart to refuse the wreath of geraniums that Amy's own hands had woven for her; and there she sat, passive as a doll, though in despair at their all waiting for her. For Laura's toilette was finished, and every one began dressing her at once; while Charlotte, to make it better, screamed over the balusters that all were ready but Mary. Sir Guy was heard playing the 'Harmonious Blacksmith,' and Captain Morville's step was heard, fast and firm. At last, when a long chain was put round her neck, she cried out, 'I have submitted to everything so far; I can bear no more!' jumped up, caught hold of her shawl, and was putting it on, when there was a general outcry that they must exhibit themselves to Charles.
They all ran down, and Amy, flying up to her brother, made a splendid sweeping curtsey, and twirled round in a pirouette.
'Got up, regardless of expense!' cried Charles; 'display yourselves.'
The young ladies ranged themselves in imitation of the book of fashions. The sisters were in white, with wreaths of starry jessamine. It was particularly becoming to Laura's bella-donna lily complexion, rich brown curls, and classical features, and her brother exclaimed: 'Laura is exactly like Apollo playing the lyre, outside mamma's old manuscript book of music.'
'Has not Amy made beautiful wreaths?' said Laura. 'She stripped the tree, and Guy had to fetch the ladder, to gather the sprays on the top of the wall.'
'Do you see your bit of myrtle, Guy,' said Amy, pointing to it, on Laura's head, 'that you tried to persuade me would pass for jessamine?'
'Ah! it should have been all myrtle,' said Guy.
Philip leant meantime against the door. Laura only once glanced towards him, thinking all this too trifling for him, and never imagining the intense interest with which he gave a meaning to each word and look.
'Well done, Mary!' cried Charles, 'they have furbished you up handsomely.'
Mary made a face, and said she should wonder who was the fashionable young lady she should meet in the pier-glasses at Allonby. Then Mr. Edmonstone hurried them away, and they arrived in due time.
The saloon at Allonby was a beautiful room, one end opening into a conservatory, full of coloured lamps, fresh green leaves, and hot-house plants. There they found as yet only the home party, the good-natured, merry Lord Kilcoran, his quiet English wife, who had bad health, and looked hardly equal to the confusion of the evening; Maurice, and two younger boys; Eveleen, and her two little sisters, Mabel and Helen.