"Yes," said Lina, and her cheeks glowed, and her eyes beamed. She forgot the embarrassing sense of dowdiness that often overwhelmed her in Miss Earle's elegant presence, and sat up straight, and forgot to draw her shabby little slippers under her chair.
There was a great deal of dainty, untutored grace in the slim figure, and Violet, who was inclined to patronize the shy orphan girl, decided to herself that Lina Meredith would be rather a pretty girl if only she were not so tanned, and if only her uncle and aunt would dress her decently.
"I have invited several people," she went on, looking at Mrs. Meredith, "and they all said they would be sure to come. Mamma said she thought you would be very glad to have Lina come, as she sees so very little pleasure."
Miss Violet's fine little shaft of malice told.
Mrs. Meredith's face turned red in a moment. She could not but be aware that the neighbors gossiped over her treatment of her husband's niece, and said that she kept her a dowdy and a drudge.
"Lina sees as much pleasure as she can afford to see," she retorted, a little shortly. "She wasn't born with a silver spoon in her mouth, like some people. She has to work for her living the same as I do. As for the party, I'm obliged to your mother, I'm sure, for inviting Jaquelina. I've not a word to say against her going, but she's nothing but calico dresses."
Lina glanced at Miss Earle's pretty blue-and-white lawn, and the deep color flushed into her face again. Even Violet looked disconcerted.
"Haven't you even a white?" she said, after a minute. "Almost any kind of a white would look well at a lawn-party at night, you know. You can wear natural flowers."
Jaquelina looked at her aunt with a sudden gleam in her eyes.
"Aunt Meredith, there's mamma's white dress in the chest up in the garret—her wedding-one, you know," she said.
"Old-fashioned—and yellow as gold!" sniffed Mrs. Meredith contemptuously.
"The very thing," cried Violet Earle. "Yellow-white is the rage, and antique styles are very fashionable. Wear your mother's wedding-dress by all means, Lina. And plenty of flowers, remember."
"It's ill-luck wearing the clothes of them that's dead and gone," said Mrs. Meredith, half-fearfully.
"Oh! Aunt Meredith—could you think mamma would care for me wearing her wedding-dress?" cried Jaquelina, reproachfully.
"Certainly not," said Violet Earle. "Could an angel in Heaven care for an old dress she had left upon earth? What do cast-off garments matter to one wearing the robe of righteousness? Wear it by all means Lina!"
She rose as she spoke and moved toward the door.
"Good-bye, Lina; good-bye, Mrs. Meredith. Lina, don't fail us! We have only invited a certain number of girls and we count on everyone being there."
CHAPTER III.
Miss Earle went away. Jaquelina brought the cows from the pasture, and tended the baby while her aunt did the milking. It was a dull and prosaic life enough for a young girl who was pretty, spirited and imaginative.
No wonder her thoughts dwelt eagerly and longingly on the lawn-party to which Violet Earle had invited her. The girl felt as if she were going to have a peep into fairyland.
She thought Violet Earle was the dearest and kindest girl in the world.
She did not know how Violet had said, half-laughingly, half-carelessly, when she went home:
"Mamma, I cannot see why you were so anxious to have that shy, awkward Jaquelina Meredith come to our party. She has not a decent thing to wear—her aunt said so. She will have to come in an old white dress that belonged to her mother."
Violet's brother, the young collegian, laughed.
Gentle Mrs. Earle looked at them both a little reproachfully.
"My dears, I wish you would not laugh at little Lina's poverty," she said. "The Merediths do not treat her right. But aside from her poverty she ranks as high in the social scale as we do. Her father was an artist of no mean ability. He would have made his mark if he had not died young. I feel sorry for little Jaquelina."
"Was her mother a nice person, too, mamma?" Violet asked, interested.
"I did not know her mother very well," said Mrs. Earle. "She was Jaquelina Ardell, a young French girl whom Claude Meredith married while he was abroad. She did not live but a few months after they returned here. When her little girl was born she died."
"And Mr. Meredith soon after," said the student; "I remember it myself. I was a lad of five years at the time."
"Yes, he died of a fever," said Mrs. Earle, with a sigh, quickly suppressed.
"Did he leave no money for his daughter?" inquired Violet.
"No—he spent the few thousands his farmer-father bequeathed him upon his education and his art-studies abroad. So Lina is dependent upon her uncle's charity."
"A cold charity it is too," said Violet, thinking of cold, hard Mrs. Meredith.
"Charlie Meredith is not purposely unkind," Mrs. Earle said, quickly, "but he is thoughtless and careless, and his wife rules him. Still, for the sake of his feelings, I should not like to slight Claude's daughter."
"I do hope she will make a respectable appearance so that no one will be able to laugh at her," said Violet. "It was on my mind to offer to lend her a party-dress, but I decided that she would not have accepted it."
"I am glad you did not," her mother said promptly. "I think Lina is proud in her way. She would have been hurt."
Violet and her brother thought their mamma was very kind and thoughtful over Jaquelina Meredith.
No one had ever told them that Claude Meredith and their mother had been lovers in their boy and girl days, and that an ambitious father had come between them and persuaded the girl into a loveless union with the wealthy Mr. Earle.
Jaquelina herself did not know what an interest the pretty, faded woman took in her fate. As she walked up and down the low sitting-room with her little cousin in her arms she remembered how tenderly Violet had said "Mamma," and a vague yearning stood over her to feel herself enfolded in the sweetness of a mother's love, which she, poor child, was never to know.
At twilight Sambo came over from the neighboring farm with a message for Mrs. Meredith. Her husband had joined the band of men who were going to pursue the horse-thieves, and would not be home until morning.
If she and Jaquelina were afraid they were to take the child and go to a neighbor's to spend the night.
Mrs. Meredith laughed at the idea of fear. So did Jaquelina. Both felt perfectly safe in the quiet, peaceful little farm-house. They sent word that they would remain at home.
At eight o'clock Mrs. Meredith, according to her usual custom, retired to bed with her child. Jaquelina took a lamp and went to her own room, but not to sleep. It was too early. The night hours were golden ones to her.
Then she was free to read or study as she liked. True, her aunt grumbled over the useless waste of a light, but her Uncle Charlie was wont to interfere so decidedly on that point that the orphan girl had her way.
But to-night the book was laid on the shelf of the little garret-chamber, and the girl dragged out a little cedar chest from under the high-posted bed.
She unlocked it and took out the dress she had told Violet she would wear to the lawn-party—her