You told me all the
family were hard and unjust, and he would tell Lady Merrifield, and we
should never be allowed to see each other again. And only think of my
poor little secret! I didn't think you would have turned from your
poor relation in misfortune for the sake of this grand Colonel.'
The end of it was, that just as the gong was sounding, Dolores handed
over to Constance an envelope directed to Mr. Flinders, and containing
Mr. Maurice Mohun's cheque. It was off her mind now, she thought, as
she shuffled down to dinner, lookup so pale and uneasy that her aunt
made her have a glass of wine and some gravy soup to begin with, and,
when dinner was over, turned all the parcels off the school-room sofa,
and made her lie upon it during the grand unpacking, which was almost
as charming as the purchasing, perhaps more so, since there was no
comparison with costlier articles.
There was not very much time. This was Friday and Christmas Day was on
Monday, so there were only two more clear week-days before the birthday
and Miss Hacket would be church-decorating on the morrow; but Lady
Merrifield would not send her daughters to help, as there were plenty
of hands without them, and they were too young to trust in a mixed set,
who were not always sure to be reverent.
Dinner had rested and refreshed them; they rejoiced in the absence of
the man-kind, and Primrose was sent out for her walk while the numerous
boxes and packages were opened, and displayed sconces and tapers, gilt
balls and glass birds, oranges and bon-bons, disguised in every
imaginable fashion.
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