Consequences. E. M. Delafield. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: E. M. Delafield
Издательство: Public Domain
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
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elaborate yellow waves well on one side as she gazed at Alex, had looked very disparaging indeed as she said, in tones more consolatory than hopeful:

      "Of course, Mam'selle may fill out a bit before next year."

      Alex, in her heart, had been thankful when it was all over, and she had gone back to the old blue cotton frocks that were to be worn out at the seaside.

      Her only responsibility there was the daily struggle of putting up her hair.

      To her disgust, and to Barbara's derision, the hair-dresser had insisted upon a large, bun-like frame, which made her head ache, and, pinned on by her unskilful hands, displayed a strong tendency to slip down the back of her neck. And however much she might brush and pull her hair over it, there always appeared a hiatus sooner or later, through which a large patch of what Barbara jeeringly called "false horsehair," might plainly be seen.

      In spite of it all, however, Alex enjoyed those last schoolroom days of hers more than any she had yet known.

      Real life was going to begin, and though Alex had no idea as to how the transformation would be effected, she was convinced that everything which she had longed for, and utterly missed, throughout her schooldays, would now be hers.

      VII

      London Season

      Alex' first London season, from the very extravagance of her expectations, was a disappointment to her.

      Her own appearance, indeed, in her first ball-dress, surprised and delighted her, and she stood before the great pier glass in the drawing-room, under the chandelier which had been specially lit for the occasion, and gazed at her reflection with incredulous admiration.

      Her dress, in the height of the prevailing fashion, had been the subject of Lady Isabel's minute and careful consultations with Madame Marguerite of New Bond Street. Of stiff white satin, the neck was cut into a hard square, and the bodice, as it was still called, unsoftened except for a small draping of pleated white chiffon held on the left shoulder with a cluster of dead-white roses, which were repeated at the side of the broad, white-ribbon belt. The most prominent feature of the dress was the immensity of the sleeves, stiffened within by strips of petersham, and standing well up from the shoulders. Thence, the monstrous, balloon-shaped things narrowed imperceptibly, and were gathered in just below the elbow, leaving no hiatus visible between them and the mousquetaire white-kid gloves.

      The skirt had no train, but fell into plain, heavy folds, sweeping the ground, and with a slight additional length of "tail," and a considerable additional fulness behind. A white ostrich-feather fan hung by white satin ribbon from her waist.

      "It looks charming," said Lady Isabel delightedly. "Better than your presentation frock."

      The servants, who had respectfully petitioned through Lady Isabel's maid to be allowed to see Miss Clare in her ball-dress before she started, were grouped in the doorway, the long white streamers of the maids' caps contrasting sharply with their neat black dresses.

      Old Nurse, a privileged personage, was right inside the drawing-room, inspecting critically.

      "I never thought you'd look so well, Miss Alex," she observed candidly. "They've hid your failings something wonderful, and your hair and complexion was always good, thanks to the care I've took of them – that I will say."

      "Don't those shoes pinch, Alex?" asked Barbara, looking on enviously in her plain schoolroom frock and strapped shoes, with her hair still hanging down her back.

      Alex did not care whether her pointed, white satin shoes pinched her feet or not. She was too happy in her first triumph.

      It was not quite a solitary triumph, for Sir Francis, after a prolonged gazing through his double eye-glasses that made her flush more than ever from nervousness, gave one of his rare smiles of gratification and said:

      "Very pretty indeed. I congratulate you on your appearance, my dear child."

      But it was to Lady Isabel that he turned next moment, with that sudden softened glance that he never bestowed elsewhere.

      "How beautifully you've dressed her, my dear. You will be taken for sisters, now that she is in long dresses."

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