or at the opposite side
of the room presented such an exasperating contrast of rustic
awkwardness and dainty grace, as she and Peggy stood side by side, that
her heart died down within her. Poor Mellicent! her new coat and skirt
had been made by the very best dressmaker in the village, and had been
considered a miracle of elegance by the admiring home circle; so that
she had looked forward to making quite a triumphant entrance, and now
here she was, looking her very worst, and conscious of a dozen
shortcomings as she looked at her friend's graceful figure. Peggy's
features still retained their miniature-like faultlessness of outline,
her pretty hair was coiled about her head in fantastic fashion, she bore
herself with even more than the old assurance, and rustled about the
room in a gown of Parisian manufacture. A little chill of strangeness
and depression settled down on Mellicent's spirits. For the last month
she had lived in constant expectation of this visit, had built a fairy
edifice of dreams concerning it, and already the foundations were
beginning to totter. The great hotel, with its crowd of critical
inmates, was terrifying to the country-bred girl, the graciousness of
her host and hostess appeared formal, when compared with the warm-
hearted cordiality of her Irish mother, and even Peggy herself seemed
transformed into another person. It was no longer Peggy, it was
Mariquita, and Mariquita a dozen times more self-possessed and imposing
than in the days of old.

When Colonel and Mrs Saville left the room, Mellicent watched with awed
eyes an interview which took place between Miss Peggy and a waiter whom
she had summoned to bring a supply of fresh tea. There were several
other matters to discuss regarding the despatch of letters and parcels,
and the severe though courteous manner in which the young lady conducted
the conversation, reduced the listener to a condition of speechless
amazement. When the door closed behind the man, Peggy met the stare of
the horrified blue eyes, and put a laughing inquiry as to the nature of
her offence.

"I don't know how you _dare_ talk to him like that!" stammered Mellicent
in return. "He is ever so much older than you, and looks so--so
dignified and grand, and you order him about, and tell him to be
careful, and send him running up and downstairs. I don't know how you
can do it. I'm nervous enough about finding fault with the servants at
home, but with a stranger! A