anything so unlucky," but here the sound of an opening doorstartled her. "I must be quick," she thought, with a glance in thelooking-glass, and a hasty touch at her somewhat ruffled hair, "or Ishall have nothing ready for Evey." It was not her sister, however,only a housemaid with hot water, as Philippa saw, as she made her waythrough the dressing-room. A civil "good-evening," however, was allthat the servant stopped to say, being evidently in a hurry.
"Now," thought Philippa, "comes a part of my role that I shall reallyenjoy. It will be charming to make Evelyn look her prettiest, and Iknow she will wear exactly what I tell her. I do love nice clothes,"and with great satisfaction she proceeded to lift out her sister'scarefully chosen "trousseau" for the occasion.
She had just finished laying out on the bed the dress she had mentallyfixed upon as the most suitable for this first evening--a sort of debutit seemed to Philippa, and far from an unimportant one, when again thedoor opened, this time to admit Evelyn herself, followed, or rather,strictly speaking, preceded by the eldest of the unmarried daughters ofthe house.
"I do hope you will find everything as you like it, and do ask foranything you want," said Miss Headfort, as she ushered in the youngguest. "Dinner is at eight, so you have nearly an hour still; time torest a little before dressing."
The voice was a pleasantly modulated one, and its tone was undoubtedlycordial. From the other side of the room, Philippa glanced round withcuriosity to catch sight of the speaker. She was a tall, rather slightwoman, in figure and bearing looking perhaps younger than her age, whichwas quite forty. But her face was not young; there were lines of sorrowupon it, and her dark eyes, though really sweet in expression when onecame to see them closely, were wanting in vivacity and light.
"Why," thought Philippa to herself, "she looks a hundred times moremelancholy than Maida, and yet her life _cannot_ have been as hard--except, of course, for the brothers' deaths,"--with a little pang ofself-reproach at her momentary forgetfulness, "but I do think she seemsnice and kind to Evey," and this agreeable impression was confirmed bythe sound of her sister's voice in reply.
"Thank you; I am sure I shall be as comfortable as possible," saidEvelyn. "Will you call for me on your way down-stairs?" she added, withthe touch of appeal which to her sister's discerning ears told at onceof her having "taken to" this new relative.
"Certainly, if you like," was the reply, and the little touch MissHeadfort gave to Evelyn's shoulder as she left the room told of evidentgratification.
For a moment or two after the door closed, Philippa remained stoopingover a trunk without speaking. It was not till Evelyn flung herself onthe sofa and called out to her half petulantly, that she thought it safeto reply.
"Why don't you speak, Phil?" she said. "You surely don't intend to keepup the farce when we are safely alone by ourselves?"
"It would really be better to do so," replied Philippa, cautiously,glancing round at both doors before she finally emerged from the shelterof the big trunk, "but, of course, I won't do anything to worry you,Evey. I suppose there is no fear of any one coming to this room beforeMiss Headfort returns?"
She crossed the floor to the sofa where her sister lay, as she spoke.
Evelyn in her turn glanced round half-nervously.
"You will make me too fidgety for anything," she said. "No, I don'tthink it is the least likely that any one will come; the housemaid hasbrought the hot water, I see, and the trunks are all up. And even ifany one did come, they would knock at the door--oh, bother, there aretwo doors! I hate a room with two doors. I never know which to be mostfrightened of in the night."
"This one," said Philippa, indicating it as she spoke, "leads into adressing-room, and out of that again, the little room where I sleep. Itwas very thoughtful of them to put me so near you, but if you wouldrather lock the doors between us at night, _I_ have no objection."
She spoke laughingly, but underneath the jesting tone there was a touchof slightly hurt feeling. She had been longing so to see her sisteragain, even after the one half-hour's separation; she was so intenselyanxious to know what had passed in the drawing-room, and now here wasEvelyn, not even affectionate, the very reverse of clinging!
"Nonsense," said her sister; "of course I'm only too delighted to haveyou close by. I would like to look at the rooms," and she half sat upas if with the purpose of doing so, but sank down again. "Oh, I amtired," she said, wearily. "Get a footstool, Philippa, if there is one,and come and sit on the floor beside me, the way we do at home. Oh,don't you wish we were at home again? It's all so strange and--"
"No," interrupted Philippa, her warm heart going out again with a rushof tenderness the very instant any appeal was made to it. "No, you'renot to say `lonely' just when I am here on purpose to prevent youfeeling so."
She had espied a footstool by this time and drew it forward as hersister wished.
"Now," she said, "we can talk comfortably for a few minutes; unless,indeed, it would be better for you not to talk at all, and rest entirelytill you have to dress."
Evelyn lay back with closed eyes; she certainly was looking very palenow, but what else could have been expected?
"I _am_ glad I came," thought her sister, conscious that a momentaryfeeling almost of jealousy of the new cousin had passed through her. "I_am_ glad I came, and if she does get on well with these people, even tothe extent of not seeming to need me, I _won't_ mind. I shall know itis only on the surface. What she would have done without me,practically speaking, I really don't know! She is about as fit just nowto look out her things and dress herself, as a mouse to draw a train.And what _would_ her hair be like? It's in a perfect chaos of fluff,and I am certain that the Headforts wear theirs perfectly smooth andhave no fringes."
She smiled at the thought, and as she did so, Evelyn opened her eyes.
"What are you laughing at?" she inquired, languidly, and as her sistertold her, she, too, smiled.
"Yes," she replied, "you are quite right. They have all three got darkhair, as smooth as--oh, I can't trouble to find a comparison--`as smooveas smoove' as Bonny says--dear Bonny! But I do think they mean to benice, really nice and cordial, Phil, especially Felicia, the one you sawjust now; she is the eldest. Perhaps I'd better not talk much--"
"You had better talk in a lower voice," said Philippa; "it is lesstiring, and safer too. All I want to know just now is that you do thinkyou will be able to get on with them without much effort."
"Ye-es, I do think so," answered Evelyn. "I must try to be a littlemore dignified than I am at home, and that is rather a strain."
"You can be beautifully dignified when you choose," said Philippa,encouragingly.
"It is not on the daughters' account I must be so," continued Evelyn."I think _they_ would like me the better if I seemed rather childish;there is no affectation of being younger than they are, about either ofthem. But it is Mrs Headfort; she associates me, I feel instinctively,with the wife of the possible future master of Wyverston, who, shethinks, no doubt, should be as stately as herself."
"I only hope she _does_ associate with you that personage," saidPhilippa, brightly; "it would certainly incline us to like her all thebetter. I think," she went on thoughtfully, "there is somethingbeautiful and elevating in that sort of regard for one's family, if notcarried too far. Some people call it only an extended form ofselfishness, but at least it is not a low kind. And, after all, doingone's best for those nearest us is not selfishness; it is simply right."
"There is something almost beautiful about Mrs Headfort herself," saidEvelyn, "though there is something wanting, too, in her face. It is alittle hard, and yet certainly not unfeeling; she has evidently _felt_tremendously."
"But troubles do harden some people," said Philippa, "though often moreon the surface than lower down. They get afraid of ever loosening theirarmour, as it were, for fear of breaking down."
"How wise you are, Phil!" said Evelyn, admiringly. "I never thought ofthings in that way when I was your age. I shouldn't wonder," she
wenton, reflectively, as if she had made a great discovery, "if it werepartly Mrs Headfort's hair that makes her look hard. It is quite dark,did I tell you? And when people get old, I think grey or white hair isso much prettier. I do hope mine will get white--mamma's is so nice,"and she put up her hand to her own wavy locks as if to feel if thedesired transformation had already taken place.
"Now, Evelyn," said Philippa, seriously, "leave off chattering. You maygo to sleep for twenty