On their dark
dresses were pinned rosettes of different-coloured ribbon, to show to
which parish they belonged. There was a bright, short service, in
which the clear, high voices of the multitudinous maidens quite
overcame those of the choir boys, and then an address, respecting which
Constance pronounced that 'Canon Fremont was always so sweet,' and
Dolores assented, without in the least knowing what it had been about.
Constance, who had driven down, was to have kept guard, in the walk
from church, over the white-rosed Silverton detachment; but another
shower was impending, and Miss Hacket, declaring that Conny must not
get wet, rushed up and packed her into the waggonette, where Dolores
was climbing after, when at a touch from Gillian, Lady Merrifield
looked round.
'Dolores,' she said, 'you forget that Miss Hacket walked to church.'
Dolores turned on the step, her face looking as black as thunder, and
Miss Hacket protested that she was not tired, and could not leave her
girls.
'Never mind the girls, I will look after them; I meant to walk. Don't
stand on the step. Come down,' she added sharply, but not in time,
for the horses gave a jerk, and, with a scream from Constance, down
tumbled Dolores, or would have tumbled, but that she was caught between
her aunt and Miss Hacket, who with one voice admonished her never to do
that again, for there was nothing more dangerous. Indeed, there was
more anger in Lady Merrifield's tone than her niece had yet heard, and
as there was no making out that there was the least injury to the girl,
she was forced to walk home, in spite of all Miss Hacket's
protestations and refusals, which had nearly ended in her exposing
herself to the same peril as Dolores, only that Lady Merrifield fairly
pushed her in and shut the door on her.
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