Chapter 8 The Little Princess of Tower Hill by L. T. Meade
CHOOSING HER COLORS
Maggie had found it very delightful to talk to Susy on the doorstep of her aunt's house. The little mystery of the whole proceeding fascinated her, and as she was in reality a very romantic and imaginative child, she thought nothing could be finer than going off privately with Susy, and sacrificing her best hat for the benefit of this young person. She had also a decidedly mixed and perhaps somewhat naughty desire to out-do Ralph in this matter, and to be herself the person who was to rescue poor Susy and her family from the depths of starvation. When Susy went away, she crept upstairs and went softly into her little room, no one having heard her either leave it or return to it.
There was one part, however, of the programme marked out by Susy which was not quite so agreeable to little Miss Ascot. Susy had adjured her, with absolute tears starting to her black eyes, to keep the whole thing a secret. Maggie had not the smallest difficulty in promising this at the moment, but she had no sooner reached her little bedroom than she became possessed with a frantic desire to tell her little adventure to some one. She was not yet eight years old; she had never kept a secret in her life, and the moment she possessed this one it began to worry her. Little Maggie, however, was not without a certain code of morals; she knew that it would be very wrong indeed to tell a lie. She had given her word to Susy; she must keep her poor little secret at any cost.
Miss Grey, who of course knew nothing of all that had transpired, came in at her accustomed hour to assist her little pupil at her toilet. Maggie capered about and seemed in excellent spirits while she was being dressed. She had no idea of betraying her secret, but she liked, so to speak, to play with it, to show little peeps of it, and certainly fully to acquaint those she was with, with the fact that she was the happy possessor of such a treasure. She remembered Waters' remarks of the night before. Waters had said how very faithfully she preserved anything told to her in confidence. Waters kept her secrets in violet. Maggie did not quite understand the double meaning of this expression; but, as she was being dressed, she became violently enamored of what she called the "secret" color.
"No, no, I won't have my pink sash this morning, please, Miss Grey; I don't like pink; I mean it isn't the fit color for me to wear to-day. You don't know why; you'll never of course guess why, but pink isn't my color to-day anyhow."
"Well, Maggie, you need not wear it," replied the patient governess; "here is a very pretty blue sash, dear; it will go quite nicely with your white frock; let me tie it on in a hurry, dear, for the breakfast gong has sounded."
But Maggie would not be satisfied with the blue sash, nor yet with the tartan, nor even with the pale gold.
"I want a violet sash," she said; "I'll have nothing but a violet sash; I'm keeping something in violet; you'll never, never guess what."
The breakfast gong here sounded a second time, and of course Miss Grey could not find any violet ribbons in Maggie's box; fortunately she had a piece of the desired color among her own stores; so when the little princess was decked in it, she went downstairs, feeling very happy and proud.
Miss Grey's violet sash did not happen to be of a pretty shade; it was an old ribbon, of a dark tint of color, and was a great deal too short for its present purpose.
"What a hideous thing you have round your waist," whispered Ralph to his little cousin; but here he caught his mother's eye; she did not allow him to make personal remarks, and although she herself was considerably surprised at Lady Ascot's allowing such a ribbon into Maggie's wardrobe, nothing further was said on the subject. Even the wearing of the violet sash, however, could scarcely keep the secret from bubbling to Maggie's lips. Mrs. Grenville began to form her plans for the day. Maggie and Ralph were to employ themselves over their lessons until twelve o'clock and then Mrs. Grenville would take them both out with her, first to Madame Tussaud's, and later on for a drive in the park.
"To-morrow," she continued, "you are both going with me to a children's garden party. Mrs. Somerville – you know Mrs. Somerville, Ralph, and what nice children hers are – happened to hear that you and Maggie were coming to me for a short time, and she sent an invitation for you both last night. We shall not return until quite late, as it will be Hugh Somerville's birthday; and they are going to have fireworks in the evening, and even a little dance."
Ralph rubbed his hands together with delight.
"Won't Maggie jump when she hears the fireworks?" he said. "You never saw fireworks, did you, Mag? Oh, I say, what a jolly time we are going to have!"
Maggie felt her cheeks flushing, more particularly as she had seen a few rockets, and even some Catharine wheels, and in consequence she had hitherto believed herself rather knowing on the subject of fireworks; but when Ralph proceeded to enlighten her with regard to the style of fireworks likely to be exhibited at Mrs. Somerville's garden party; when he spoke about the fairy fountains, and the electric lights, and the golden showers of fire-drops, and last, but not least, the bouquet which was to end the entertainment, she felt she had better keep silent with regard to the rockets and Catharine wheels which her father had once displayed for the amusement of the villagers.
Mrs. Grenville here began to speak earnestly to Miss Grey.
"I want Maggie's dress to be quite suitable. Is there anything we ought to get for her, Miss Grey?"
"I think not," replied Miss Grey. "She has just had a beautifully worked Indian muslin frock from Perrett's, in Bond Street, which she has not yet worn; and I don't think anything could be more dressy than her new hat with the ostrich feathers."
"Oh, yes, it is a charming hat," replied Mrs. Grenville. "Of course she must wear it to-day when she drives with me in the carriage, but that won't injure it for to-morrow. Then I need not trouble about your wardrobe, my darling; you will accompany me to-morrow, quite the little princess your father is so fond of calling you."
During this brief conversation, Maggie's little face had been changing color.
"I think," she said suddenly, "that perhaps I'd better have a new hat."
"Why so, my love? your hat is quite new and charming. It came from Perrett's, too, did it not, Miss Grey?"
"Yes, Mrs. Grenville; it was sent in the same box as the muslin costume."
"Oh, it will answer admirably, Maggie, dear. Why, what is the matter, my child?"
Maggie's lips were quivering, and her eyes were fixed on her violet sash.
"Only perhaps – perhaps the new hat might get lost or something," she muttered incoherently.
Mrs. Grenville looked at her for a moment, but as her remark was not very intelligible, she dismissed it from her mind.
The rest of the day passed happily enough. In half an hour Maggie ceased to fret about her hat. She comforted herself with the thought that her plain brown straw garden-hat, trimmed with a neat band of brown velvet, and a few daisies, would be after all just the thing for a garden party, and that in any case it did not greatly matter what she wore. What was of much more consequence was, that to-morrow Susy would be capering about with her tambourine, and that pennies would be pouring in for the Aylmer children, and for Jo in particular. She was obliged to wear her best hat when she went out that afternoon, and she certainly was remarkably careful as to how she put it on, and she quite astonished Miss Grey, when she came home in the evening, by the extreme care with which she herself placed it back in its box.
"Waters," she said that night, when she suddenly met Mrs. Grenville's maid, "I am quite happy again; I have done just as you do, and I have kept it in violet all day long."
"What, my darling?" asked the surprised servant.
"Oh, my secret; I have got such a darling secret. It would be very wrong of me to tell it, wouldn't it, Waters?"
Waters looked dubious.
"I don't approve of secrets for a little lady."
"But, Waters, how queer you are! You always keep your own secrets in violet, don't you?"
"Oh, yes, dear; yes. But I haven't many. They're sort of burdensome things; at least, I find them so. And in no case do I approve of secrets for little ladies, Miss Maggie; in no single case."
Maggie knit her brows, looked exceedingly perplexed, felt a great longing to pour the whole affair into Waters' sympathizing ears, then remembered Susy and refrained.
"But I promised not to tell," she said; "I promised most solemn not to tell."
"Well, well; I s'pose it's something between you and Master Ralph," remarked the servant, who felt worried she scarcely knew why.
Maggie jumped softly up and down.
"It isn't Ralph's secret, but it's about Ralph. He needn't save up his pennies no more. It's about Ralph's pennies and the half-crown. I know what it is; I'll tell you exactly what it is, Waters, and yet I know you won't never guess. It's add sixteen to fourteen makes thirty. My secret's the sixteen. You'll never, never, never guess, will you, Waters?"
Here Waters had to confess herself bamboozled, and Maggie skipped off to bed with a very light heart. She had kept her secret all day long, and now all she had to do was to wake up quite early in the morning, and go off with Susy to the pawnbroker's.