Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 128.djvu/728

718 and it seems to her that she has overleapt a great barrier.

In her inmost soul she loves her old ways as dearly as ever; but she regards them in something the same light as a smuggler turned coast-guardsman may be supposed to view his former occupations.

They go against his conscience, but they are dear to his heart.

To tie flies, manufacture nets, and cower over bubbling pots of toffy in the back regions, is still delightful to our little Bee; and she has no intention of foregoing her haunts, though the coast-guardsman must perforce abjure his. Such doings need not be adverted to in polite circles. No one would ever suspect this graceful young model of fashion, if it were not for these boys, these dreadfully candid, superfluously communicative associates of hers.

Has she no means of keeping them quiet?

Many a time Miss Graeme sits on thorns in her pink embroidered muslin and pearls, hearing what she dares not confute, and is powerless to turn aside.

Afterwards comes an encounter, of course, even while her outraged feelings warn her that it is unavailing.

What can she mean? What have they done? What a goose she is to think of such rubbish!

And this happens so often that the boys are growing weary of it, and Beatrix too.

They are beginning to experience contempt for their sister, and she disgust at them.

How will it end?

"Betty is gorgeous! Isn't she? Rather!"

It is Tom who says it, Tom who opens his round eyes and his wide mouth, and emits the impassioned sentiment.

They had been having a most delightful afternoon in their great, comfortable, untidy den at the back of the house; and Beatrix, bedaubed with paste, and adhered to by many a curly shaving, the very heart and soul of the proceedings, had betaken herself off at the sound of the dressing-bell, more than half an hour before her brothers.

Five minutes sufficed for their toilet.

With shining, soapy faces, and unfastened sleeve-links, they had torn down in the wildest haste at the sharp summons of the second gong; but Bee had not appeared.

Dinner is announced, off they all file in procession, and as they pass, behold I the staircase is illuminated by a radiant vision, a picture.

Beatrix, all in white, with silver stars that shiver and quiver in the lamp-light; great fuchsia bells hanging over her fair neck; locket, bracelets, sparkling buckles peeping out on little white satin slippers, — Beatrix takes them all by storm, and Tom confesses it.

Old Sir Charles gives a grunt, and passes forward. He had almost forgotten who was coming that evening, but for nobody will he alter his own peculiar costume, his ancient, quaintly-cut swallowtail, black watered silk waistcoat, and light morning trousers, so out of all keeping that they nearly break Lady Graeme's heart every time that the incongruity strikes her afresh.

For no one will he change the huge black satin stock wound twice round his high, stiff, slightly frayed-out shirt-collar.

She says he looks a perfect guy; but he does not — he looks a very dear, kind, clean, funnily-dressed old gentleman.

But Lady Graeme disapproves still more of her daughter's appearance.

Rich and sober is her own attire, and the two extremes are unsuitable in her eyes.

"Bee, my dear!"

"Yes, mamma?"

"This is too much, dear child. A family party, your brother and one other gentleman; indeed, you look over-dressed, my love."

"You forget Miss Williams, mamma; we are not quite alone. And Arthur is so particular, I thought you would be sorry if he complained."

"White satin slippers!" murmured Lady Graeme, in a low reproachful aside.

"Arthur always looks at my shoes the first thing. You know, mamma, he used to speak to you about them."

"There is a medium between shabbiness and smartness, Bee. Your untidiness at one time used to annoy me very much, but I had rather see even that than this excess of attention to dress. Those slippers are only fit for a ball; at least, for myself, I never wear white ones at a dinner-party. Of course under white dresses it is different —"

"That was exactly what I thought, mamma. Even my bronze ones did not look nice under this dress."

"But why wear the dress at all, my dear? You have plenty of others, and your brother will think we have a house full of people. The best thing you can do is to change it after dinner."