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The Children of Wilton Chase, a fiction by L. T. Meade |
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Chapter 17. The More Beautiful Face |
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_ CHAPTER XVII. THE MORE BEAUTIFUL FACE Two tall girls were standing near the piano; one had just sung a song in a very brilliant style, the other was complimenting her; the gentlemen had not yet come in. "Flora, do look at that queer little personage over there!" exclaimed the singer, glancing in Ermengarde's direction. "Did you ever see such a little comicality? Why, she can't be more than twelve years old, and she is dressed in much older style than you or I." "Stop, Kate, I'm sure she hears you," said Flora. "I don't care if she does, conceited little monkey. Who in the world is she?" "Her name is Ermengarde Wilton. Yes, of course, the dress is unsuitable, but small piece of gorgeousness that she is, I'd give a good deal to possess her handsome face; and so would you, for the matter of that, Kate." Ermengarde was standing near a window. Now she pushed a muslin curtain aside, and hid herself behind its folds. "There! She did hear you this time, Flora," said Kate. "I meant her to," replied the other. "You were humiliating her so horribly, Kate." The two girls whispered a little longer, then they parted company. Ermengarde stood behind the shelter of the window curtain. Her heart was beating fast, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes had a triumphant light in them. Yes, she had heard what those horrid girls were saying. She had heard every word. They had abused her dress, but they had praised her face. This praise made up for all. What mattered the dress which could be so easily removed, compared with the face which would remain. Ermengarde's heart thrilled within her at the delicious words of flattery. These grown-up girls envied _her!_ Oh, she could bear anything after that. She was standing thus, thinking her own thoughts, when the light swish of silken drapery near caused her to look round, and to her astonishment the girl who was called Flora stood in the shelter of the window by her side. "I hope I am not crowding you," she said in a gracious voice to Ermengarde. "It is so hot in the drawing-room; I have just come here to get cool before the gentlemen come in." "You don't disturb me at all," said Ermengarde. "Thank you. Are you Miss Wilton? I think you must be. My mother knows your father very well." "And your name is Flora something?" answered Ermengarde, looking up with proud defiance in her face. "And you were speaking about me to a girl called Kate, and you abused my dress, and said that I was a little piece of gorgeousness, and that I was only twelve years old. I am not twelve--I am fourteen and three months." "Oh, my dear child, you should not have been eavesdropping." "I wasn't. You spoke out very loud. I thought you knew I must hear you." "Dear, dear, I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt your feelings, really, Miss Wilton. Of course the dress is _lovely_. Catch Kate or me aspiring to anything half so fine. But then, you _did_ look very young in it. Are you really fourteen! You don't look it." "Yes, I am fourteen and three months." "Of course that makes a great difference. Come, now, let's be friends. My name is Flora St. Leger, and mother and I are going to stay at Glendower for a couple of days. Are you staying here?" "Yes, with my father. We came to-day." "Oh, I suppose you are Lilias Russell's friend. Isn't she a prim little piece?" "I don't know," answered Ermengarde angrily. "I only consider that she is the dearest and most beautiful girl in the world." "Oh, folly! she can't hold a candle to you. I'd like to see you when you're dressed for your first drawing-room. You know, Ermengarde--I may call you Ermengarde, may I not--I _did_ say something very nice about your face, even when I abused your dress. You heard that part too, didn't you, sly monkey?" "Yes," said Ermie, in a low voice. Then she added, "But it is not true about my being more beautiful than Lilias, and I don't like you even to say it." "Well, puss, you can't help facts: Lilias is very well in her way; you are twice as striking. Oh, there comes George Martineau. I promised to play his accompaniments for him; he will sing some German songs in a minute. You listen when he does. He has a remarkably fine tenor voice for an amateur." Flora St. Leger glided away from the recess of the window, and Ermengarde was left alone. She did not mind this in the least, her meditations were so pleasant; and Flora had given her such agreeable food for thought that she was quite delighted to be able to have a quiet few minutes to think over everything. She had quite forgiven Flora's _unkind_ words for the sake of her _flattering_ words. Flora had said the sort of things that Susy had often regaled her with before, but how much more important were the honeyed speeches coming from the lips of this grown-up and beautiful young lady. Ermengarde felt herself quite in love with Flora. Poor Lilias was nothing, compared to the friend she had just made. She was glad to know that Flora was going to spend a couple of days at Glendower. She earnestly hoped that she might see a good deal of her during these few days. The evening passed somehow, and Ermie managed to escape to her room without again meeting her father. Petite was helping her to undress, when to her surprise Lady Russell herself came in. "My dear little Ermengarde," she said. She went up to the young girl and kissed her affectionately. "You can leave us, Petite," said Lady Russell to the maid. When they were alone, she turned to Ermie. "My love, I am sorry to appear interfering, but you are a motherless little girl. Your dress to-night was very unsuitable." "Aunt Elizabeth gave it to me," said Ermengarde, pouting. "Yes, my dear; but, pardon me, we won't go into the question of how you came by the dress. You are at least ten years too young to be dressed in a fanciful costume of that kind. Your father does not wish you to wear that dress again, Ermie, nor to arrange your hair as you did to-night. Have you got a simple white dress with you, my child?" "No," said Ermie, still pouting and frowning; "I thought the white _chiffon_ was exactly what I needed." "Poor child, you sadly miss your mother. Well, my love, don't do it again; that's all. I will get Petite to alter one of Lilias's frocks for you to wear to-morrow evening. Now, good-night, dear; sleep sound. I am glad you have come to keep our Lilias company for a few days." Lady Russell kissed Ermengarde and left her. She took no notice of the little girl's sullen face, nor of her rude manner. She went away looking what she was, a gracious motherly woman. "I am deeply sorry, both for Ermengarde and her father," she said to herself. "Anyone can see that the poor man does not know how to manage all those children. Marjorie takes after her sweet mother, but Ermengarde! she is not an easy child to influence, and yet what a beautiful face she has!" _ |
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