“Kitty,” said Lady Buckhaven, struck by a brilliant idea, “if you do not mean to buy it, I will, because it is just what will suit me! Only I thought perhaps I ought not, because only last week I purchased one in bronze-green, which Mama says is a colour I should never wear, so of course I shan’t, because no one knows better than Mama what truly becomes one. But I have just had the most famous notion! I will give you the bronze-green, and buy this one for myself, and that will make everything right!”
In this very reasonable way the problem was solved to everyone’s satisfaction; Madame promised to deliver the hand-boxes in Berkeley Square that very day; and the ladies, each feeling that she had practised a piece of clever economy, sallied forth to visit a series of milliners and haberdashers. Kitty, who had been thinking deeply, astonished her hostess by saying that if she might be put in the way of visiting a linen-draper she would buy such materials as she liked, and contrive to make herself gowns in imitation of what she had seen at Fanchon’s. Like any other young lady of gentle breeding, Meg could embroider prettily, and had even been known to hem a seam, but the idea of making gowns for herself had never so much as occurred to her. When she learned that Kitty had been in the habit of doing so for years she began to think that life at Arnside must be bleak indeed, and in a rush of warm-heartedness said: “Well, you shan’t do so in my house, you poor thing! Mallow—my dresser, you know!—shall find a sewing-woman to do it for you. The cost will be trifling—I know, because Mama employs one to make up dresses for Caroline and Fanny. Good gracious, she would be the very person! I will dash off a note to her directly we return home! Should you like to drive immediately to a linen-draper’s, or are you tired? There is Layton and Shear’s, or Newton’s, in Leicester Square, which I believe is tolerably good. Or stay! Let us go to Grafton House! Emily Calderbeck told me that you would scarcely credit the things one may purchase there for the merest song! Poor creature, she is forced to embrace the most shocking expediencies, for Calderbeck, you know, is run quite off his legs! And the miserable thing is that he sets it down to Emily’s want of management and economy, when all the town knows he has lost thousands at play! I must own that I am glad Buckhaven is not a gamester. Only think how uncomfortable it would be never to know whether you were rich, or ruined! I tell Jack that if ever he is married I shall pity his wife—just rallying him, you know!”
“Is Jack a gamester?” asked Kitty. “I—I didn’t know! That is—Freddy said so, but—”
“Oh, yes! I don’t mean to say that he is for ever in some horrid hell, like Calderbeck, but he plays at Watier’s, where the stakes are shockingly high; and he bets on all the races—in fact, he is what Freddy calls a Go amongst the Goers! Shall we tell my coachman to drive to Grafton House?”
“Oh, yes, please—if you should not dislike it!” Kitty waited until the order had been given, and then said, in a disinterested voice: “Is Jack in London? I have not set eyes on him this age!”
“Of course, you must know him better than you know any of us,” said Meg. “He is for ever visiting my great’Uncle, isn’t he? Do you like him? I hope you may, for he is often in Berkeley Square. Only pray don’t say so to Mama! She would not like it above half, because he has such a shocking reputation! It is all nonsense, of course, and Buckhaven makes no objection. Naturally one knows where to draw the line, and, besides, it is perfectly proper to have one’s cousin to visit one!”
Miss Charing was still digesting this when the barouche drew up outside Grafton House.
It had been one of Meg’s schoolday amusements to visit the Pantheon Bazaar, under the careful chaperonage of her governess, and to spend her weekly pin-money in that astonishing mart; but ladies of high fashion did not commonly do their shopping at Grafton House, and she bad never before entered its portals. She was inclined to be suspicious of an emporium patronized by such unfortunates as poor Emily Calderbeck, but after a very few minutes spent in looking at the wares for sale in the building she succumbed to the eternal feminine passion for Bargains, and became quite as enthusiastic as Kitty over silk stockings at only twelve shillings the pair, muslins at three shillings and sixpence the yard, and really elegant bugle trimming at the ridiculously low figure of two shillings and fourpence.
The only drawback to the shop was its popularity: it was crowded, customers being obliged to wait at the various counters for as much, sometimes, as twenty minutes before receiving attention. An overheard interchange between two women desirous of buying black sarsnet informed Lady Buckhaven and Miss Charing that more knowledgeable persons made a point of visiting Grafton House before breakfast; by eleven o’clock, it appeared, the emporium was always as full as it could hold.
“Shall we do that?” Meg whispered. “Only I don’t think I could! Perhaps we had better stay, now we are here! My dear, look! Irish poplin, at six shillings the yard! Not that I should want poplin, but still—!”
It was while they were awaiting their turn to be served at one of the counters that Kitty’s eyes alighted on the most beautiful girl she had ever seen. She could not help staring, for such gleaming golden ringlets, such deep blue eyes, so exquisite a complexion seemed to belong rather to a fairytale than to a stuffy and overcrowded shop. The child—for she did not look to be much more—was very elegantly dressed, in a swansdown-trimmed bonnet and pelisse of blue velvet that almost exactly matched her big eyes. From the wide, upstanding brim of her bonnet to the heels of her velvet half-boots all was perfection, except her expression. This was disconsolate, even a little scared. A stylishly gowned woman, who was turning over a pile of muslins on the counter, spoke to her, and, when she did not hear, spoke again, sharply, causing her to give a nervous start.
“For heaven’s sake, Olivia, can you not pay attention?” the elder woman said, in a scolding tone. “How many times am I to tell you that these dawdling and languid airs of yours will not do? I am sure I may wear myself out, buying dresses for you, for anything you care, or any thanks I may get for it! Nothing is so disagreeable in a girl as that stupid sort of indifference, and so you will find!”
The girl flushed, and murmured something Kitty could not hear. She bent over the muslins, but apparently the choice she would have made did not suit her companion’s notions. for Kitty heard the sharp voice say: “Nonsense—quite unsuitable! You have not the least notion! You put me out of all patience with you!”
The girl stepped back again, and, making room for a stout matron to pass, brushed against Kitty. She looked round, begging pardon, in a shy, childish voice, and Kitty said at once: “It is dreadfully crowded, isn’t it? Is it always so?”
“Oh, yes!” sighed the girl. “And Bedford House is worse!”
“I haven’t been there. This is my first visit to London. Do you live here?”
“Yes—no! I mean, we used not to do so. I am just out, you see, so Mama has brought me to town.”
“Why, it is the same—almost—in my own case! I have been shopping all the morning, and my head is in a whirl. It is all so big, and there is so much to see!”
“Do you dislike shopping?” asked the girl sympathetically.
“Gracious, no! I never enjoyed myself so much in my life, I think! Do you dislike it?”
“I liked it at first—having pretty dresses, and hats—but it is so tiring, standing still for hours, while they pin things round me! And being scolded for fidgeting, or tearing a liounce, or letting my best hat be spoilt in the rain.”
The older woman, hearing her voice, had turned her head, and was keenly scrutinizing Kitty, in an appraising way which made Kitty feel that the cost of her clothing was being assessed to a halfpenny. She summoned the girl back to her side, but just at that moment Meg, who had been inspecting some Indian muslin handkerchiefs, looked round, and said: “My dear Kitty, do you think these pretty? Only three shillings and sixpence each! I have a very good mind to buy some.”