"It is nothing, dear," said Mollie tenderly. "I have given you my little lecture, and I will say nothing further at present."
"And I am not all bad, and I love you, and I hope to be the happiest girl on earth before long," was Kitty's rejoinder. And then she flew upstairs to put on her hat and jacket.
The girls drove first to Madame Dupuys, a fashionable dressmaker in Bond Street. Madame received them both in her large showroom. Her face was rather grave.
"I had hoped to have a letter from you before now, Miss Hepworth," she said, in a significant tone, to Kitty.
"It is all right," replied Kitty. "You may expect to hear from me any day."
"Very well, miss."
"And I want to order a dress at once. I am going on Monday evening to the fancy ball at the Countess of Marsden's house on the Thames. I cannot possibly wear any of my old dresses."
"What will you have?" asked the dressmaker.
"Something very, very pretty, and absolutely out of the common. Madame, I should like to introduce my sister to you; she is a Red Cross nurse."
Madame bowed gravely in Mollie's direction. She was a very handsome woman, beautifully dressed.
"We are all interested in the Red Cross Sisters," she said, after a moment's pause. "Have you heard the latest news, miss? They say war will be declared within the week!"
Kitty turned white.
"I am determined not to think of disagreeable things before they occur," she said; "and I want my dress to be white, with silver over it. Now, do show me some designs."
"I will fetch some fashion-books," said madame, "and we can discuss the style."
"Kitty," said Mollie, the moment they were alone, "surely you are not in debt for any of your beautiful clothes?"
Kitty's face looked troubled.
"I am just a wee bit harassed," she said slowly, "but it will be all right by-and-by. Don't worry, Mollie."
"It seems so wrong," replied Mollie.
"You know nothing about it," answered Kitty, tapping her small foot impatiently on the floor. "I go out a great deal, and I have to look my best, because – " she stopped. "You would act as I do if you had the same reasons," she continued. "And you must remember that in about another year I shall have plenty of money."
"Well, it is wrong to go in debt," replied Mollie. "If you are in money difficulties, it would be far better to speak to Mrs. Keith."
"To Aunt Louisa? Never! she would tell Gavon. Ah, here comes madame. – Madame, my sister has been reading me such a lecture," and Kitty smiled her incorrigible smile.
Madame Dupuys made no remark. She opened the fashion-book, and soon Miss Hepworth and the dressmaker were deep in consultation over the material and style of the new dress.
"Don't you think it will be exquisite, Mollie?" said Kitty, as they left the showroom.
"Very pretty indeed, dear," replied Mollie.
They came home to lunch, where Captain Keith awaited them.
"My mother has left you a message," he said. "She is going to see a friend, and will not be back until dinner time. Now, I happen to have a whole afternoon at my own disposal. If I place it at yours, can you make any use of me?"
"O Gavon, how quite too heavenly!" said Kitty. "You shall take us somewhere. This dear Mollie does not know her London a bit. Her education must be attended to, and without any loss of time. And, Gavon, I have been ordering a dress for the Countess of Marsden's dance on Monday."
"Another dress!" said Keith, shrugging his shoulders. "What an extravagant girl!"
"Don't you like me to wear pretty dresses? I thought you did."
"Of course I do; and you look charming in everything you put on, but I did not know you wanted a new dress. You had something soft and furry, like the breast of a rabbit, the last time you went to a dance with me. I remember it quite well, although I cannot describe it; for the fur was always touching my shoulder, and it came off a little. I found the white hairs on my coat the next morning."
Kitty blushed.
"I am glad you liked that dress," she said; "but you will like what I am going to appear in on Monday even better. I want to be a vision – a dream."
Keith looked at her; a thoughtful expression came into his eyes. He noted the colour which came and went on her checks, the brightness of her brown eyes, the love light, too, which was all too visible, as those well-opened eyes fixed themselves on his face.
"Poor little girl!" he said to himself. Then he glanced at Mollie, and his heart beat quickly. "If only those two could exchange places!" he thought; "it would be easy then to – "
He checked the unfinished thought with a sigh which was scarcely perceptible.
"Where shall we go?" he said. He took out his watch. "Although it is out of the season, there is a passable concert at St. James's Hall, and you are so fond of music, Kit. What does Sister Mollie say?"
"Oh, please call me Mollie," said the elder girl.
"What would you like, Mollie?" he asked.
"The concert, by all means."
"We can take tickets at the door. We will go there, and afterwards have tea at my club."
"Delicious!" said Kitty. "You don't know, Mollie, what tea at Gavon's club is like. Only I do wish – "
"What, dear?"
"That you would not wear your uniform. I didn't think nurses thought it necessary when they were taking holidays."
"I won't, if you dislike it," said Mollie. "I have brought a dress which I can wear. It is not very fashionable, but I don't suppose that matters."
"Would you not rather, Gavon, that Mollie did not come in her uniform?" asked Kitty, in an eager voice.
"Mollie must do exactly what she pleases," was the reply.
"I see you would both rather not have attention drawn to me," said Mollie. "That is quite enough. I will dress as an ordinary lady."
"And lose a good deal," said Gavon. "But perhaps you are right. There is so much disturbance in the air, that anything even savouring of the military draws attention at the present moment."
"Come upstairs at once, Mollie, and I will help to turn you into a fashionable lady," said Kitty, with a laugh.
CHAPTER IV.
THE CONCERT
But this was more easily said than done. Mollie had a certain style about her – the style which accompanies a perfectly-made body and a well-ordered mind. But she had none of that peculiar appearance which constitutes fashion. Her hair was simply knotted at the back of her head, and was without fringe or wave. The only dress she had at her disposal had been made two years ago. The sleeves were too large for the prevailing mode, and the bodice was by no means smart. Mollie, however, put on her unfashionable garment with the best faith in the world, and tripped up to Kitty when her toilet was complete.
"How do you like me?" she said.
Kitty turned to her, and her brown eyes flashed fire.
"Oh, you must not go out looking like that," she was about to say. But she suddenly stopped.
She herself was the very perfection of dainty neatness, of fashionable, yet not too fashionable, attire. Her hair was picturesquely arranged. Her hat was stylish; the very veil which hid and yet revealed the roses on her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes was what the world would call the mode. Beside this dainty and perfectly-arrayed little personage Mollie looked almost dowdy.
"And I could change all that in a minute," thought Kitty. "It is just to lend her my brown hat with its plume of feathers, and the jacket which came home last week, and the deed is done. But shall I do it? Gavon already admires her too much. Now is the time for him to see the difference