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Updated: June 16, 2025
Arctura looked as pretty a little waiting-damsel as might be seen, in her brown, two-skirted, best delaine dress, and her white, ruffled, muslin bib-apron, her nicely arranged hair, braided up high around her head and frizzed a little, gently, at the front, since why shouldn't she, too, have a bit of the fashion? and tied round with a soft, simple white ribbon.
The high official who took them through, lingered over the process, busy as the morning was, all for the beaux yeux of Elizabeth; and they left him pondering by what legerdemain he could possibly so manipulate his engagements that afternoon as to join Lady Merton's tea-party. "Well, that was quite interesting!" said Delaine as they emerged.
Accordingly, the next time she and Anna were alone, she asked for the delaine, entrusting her secret to Anna, who, thinking no harm, promised to keep it from her mother. But to get 'Lena fitted was a more difficult matter. Her spirit was roused, and for a time she resisted their combined efforts.
Elizabeth was given up to the owner of the great farm one of the rich men of Canada for whom experiment in the public interest becomes a passion; and Anderson walked on her other hand. Delaine endured a wearisome half-hour. He got no speech with Elizabeth, and prize cattle were his abomination. When the half-hour was done, he slipped away, unnoticed, from the party.
"Certainly. We shall run you out in forty minutes. You still wish to go on to-night?" "Philip does. Can we?" "You can do anything you wish," said Anderson, smiling. Elizabeth thanked him, and they chatted a little more about the arrangements and guests for the afternoon, while Delaine listened. Who on earth was this new acquaintance of Lady Merton's?
He was conscious of a keen antipathy the antipathy of tired nerves to the speaker's mere aspect, his long hair, his too picturesque dress, the antique on his little finger, the effeminate stammer in his voice. "Are you going to-day? What train?" he said, in a careless voice as he moved away. Delaine drew back, made a curt reply, and the two men parted.
"Not far off it," murmured Delaine, as he looked out on the vast field of wheat they were passing a field two miles long, flat and green and bare as a billiard-table and remembered the chestnuts and the looping vines, the patches of silky corn and spiky maize, and all the interlacing richness and broidering of the Italian plain.
Delaine meanwhile felt a kind of dull satisfaction in the turn of events. The intimacy between Anderson and Lady Merton had clearly been checked, or was at least not advancing. Whether it was due to his own hints to Elizabeth, or to Anderson's chivalrous feeling, he did not know. But he wrote every mail to Mrs.
Yet she scarcely spoke to Arthur Delaine, with whom one might have supposed this hidden feeling connected. She was indeed aware of him all the time. She watched him secretly; watching herself, too, in the characteristic modern way. But outwardly she was absorbed in talking with the guests.
In his finical repugnance to soiling his hands with matters so distasteful, Delaine had carried out the embassy which Anderson had perforce entrusted to him in such a manner as to rouse in Elizabeth a maximum of pride on her own account, and of indignation on Anderson's.
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