Chapter 16 Three Girls from School by L. T. Meade
A Delicious Dinner
After a time Annie Brooke and Mabel Lushington joined Lady Lushington in their smart dresses. Mabel looked most imposing in her pretty pink silk, and no one could look fresher and more charming than Annie in the white lace and muslin which fitted her trim little figure so nicely.
Lady Lushington was standing very much in the same position in which she had been when Priscilla left her. She turned now as the two girls entered. There was a frown between her brows, and she scarcely glanced at either of them.
“Come, come,” she said crossly, “how much longer must I be kept waiting? We will go down in the lift, Mabel; you lead the way.”
Mabel immediately went first, Lady Lushington followed, and Annie brought up the rear. They entered a large lift, and presently found themselves on the ground-floor of the great hotel. In a very short time they were in the restaurant, which was quite the most brilliant and dazzling place Annie Brooke had ever seen. It seemed to be almost filled with gay ladies all in full evening-dress, and gentlemen in immaculate white shirt-fronts, white ties, and dinner-jackets. There were waiters rushing about here, there, and everywhere; and the tables, covered with their snowy napery, were further adorned with dazzlingly bright glass and silver; and, to add magic to the general effect, a little electric lamp with a silk shade over it stood in the centre of each table. There were flowers, also, in abundance. In short, the whole place seemed to Annie to be a sort of fairyland.
A few people glanced up from their own tables when Lady Lushington, accompanied by the two girls, crossed the huge room to the table set aside for her party. She sat down, and Mabel and Annie found places at each side of her. A menu was immediately presented to her by a most gentlemanly man whom Annie thought perfectly fascinating in appearance, but who only turned out to be the head-waiter. Lady Lushington ordered certain dishes and two or three kinds of wine, and the meal began.
Annie was both hungry and agitated; Mabel was somewhat indifferent. Lady Lushington ate steadily and with considerable appetite, but all the time wearing that slight frown of disapproval on her forehead. Annie glanced at her, and made up her mind that Lady Lushington was a very grand person indeed; that she (Annie), in spite of all her temerity, was going to be a little bit afraid of her; and that, of course, the reason for the great lady’s present discontent was the fact of Priscilla’s outrageous conduct.
The three ladies hardly spoke at all, Mabel having quite sufficient tact to respect her aunt’s present mood. But as the dinner came to an end, concluding with the most delicious ice Annie had ever tasted in all her life, she could not help bending forward and saying in a low tone to Mabel:
“What a great pity it is that our Priscie is such a fool!”
Low as her tone was, it reached lady Lushington’s ears, who immediately turned and said in a snappish voice:
“Whom do you mean by our Priscie, Miss Brooke?”
“Why, Priscilla Weir, of course,” answered Annie, colouring as she spoke, and looking particularly sweet and innocent.
“And why did you call her a fool?” was Lady Lushington’s next remark.
“Oh,” said Annie—“oh”—Mabel longed to kick Annie’s foot, but could not manage to reach it. Annie plunged desperately into hot water. “Oh,” she added, “Priscilla—oh, Priscilla is so ridiculous; she has lost this delicious dinner and—and—rejected your kindness in giving her such dainty garments. I do pity her so much, and am so sorry that your great kindness should be thrown away.”
“Then, pray,” said Lady Lushington, “keep your pity for me entirely to yourself, for I can assure you, Miss Brooke, that I do not need it. As to Miss Weir, she may or may not be a fool—I do not know her well enough to be able to give an opinion on that point—but she is at least a thorough lady.”
Annie gazed, with her coral lips slightly open.
“A thorough lady,” continued Lady Lushington, glancing with cruel eyes at the white muslin and lace frock which adorned Annie’s little person.
“Then you are not angry with her?” said Annie. “I thought, after your kindness— But of course she is going in the morning, isn’t she?”
“Miss Weir accompanies us to Interlaken,” said Lady Lushington, rising. “That is settled; and she wears her own dress, as an honest girl should. She may look peculiar; doubtless she will; but she is unaffected and has a noble way about her. Now let us change the subject—Girls, would you like to come out into the court for a few minutes to listen to the band, or are you, Miss Brooke, too tired, and would you prefer to go to bed?”
“I think I will go to bed, please,” said Annie in a small, meek, crushed sort of voice.
“Very well,” said Lady Lushington; “you are quite wise.—Mabel, take your friend to the lift and give her over to Parker’s care.—Goodnight, Miss Brooke. Remember we start very early in the morning, but Parker will wake you and bring you your coffee.”
When, ten minutes later, Mabel joined her aunt Henrietta in the court of the famous hotel, Lady Lushington turned to her.
“May I ask,” she remarked, “what earthly reason induced you to ask a commonplace person like Miss Brooke to join our expedition?”
“Oh, I thought you would like her,” said Mabel. “She—she is a great friend of mine.” Mabel spoke in considerable alarm, for if indeed Aunt Henrietta turned against Annie, she would find herself in a most serious position. Lady Lushington was silent for a minute or two; then she said:
“To be frank with you, Mabel, I don’t at the present moment like her at all. Whether I change my mind or not remains to be proved. Priscilla Weir is a fine creature, and worth twenty of that blue-eyed doll; but I suppose, as they have both come, we must put up with Miss Brooke for a short time. I may as well tell you frankly, however, Mabel, that I shall send her back to England, if she does not please me very much better than she has done on this first evening, at the first possible opportunity.”