Three Margarets | Page 4

the first to leave her room, punctuality being the third virtue of her
creed. She had changed her travelling-dress for a pretty dark red
cashmere, which became her well; but Peggy, who came running down
a moment later, still wore her ill-fitting frock of green flannel, the scant
attractions of which were not enhanced by a soiled linen collar, which
she had forgotten to change. The flyaway locks were indeed braided
together, but the heavy braid was rough and uneven.
"Oh, you have changed your dress!" she cried, seeing Margaret. "How
pretty you look! I didn't have time to do anything. Say," she added,
lowering her voice, "I think you are sweet, but I just hate that other girl.
We sha'n't be fond of each other, you may be sure of that!"
"My dear Peggy!" said Margaret, in gentle remonstrance. "You must
not judge a person on ten minutes' acquaintance. I am sure I hope you
and Rita will be very good friends. You certainly must admire her
beauty."
"Oh, she's pretty enough!" rejoined Peggy; "but I think she's perfectly
horrid!--there now! Stuck-up and conceited, and looking at other
people as if they were stone posts. And I am not a stone post, you
know."
"You certainly don't look like one," said Margaret, laughing; "nor feel
like one," she added, putting her arm around her cousin's plump waist.
"But come! here is Elizabeth waiting to show us the dining-room.

Elizabeth, we have had a good rest, and we are so hungry."
"This way, miss, if you please," said the grave Elizabeth. And she led
the way across the hall. The dining-room was a pleasant square room,
with crimson curtains closely drawn. There was no cloth on the dark
table, which shone like a mirror, reflecting the blaze of the candles in
mellow points of light. At the head stood a shining silver tea-service
and a Dresden chocolate-pot, surrounded by the prettiest cups and
saucers that ever were seen; and a supper was laid out which seemed to
have been specially planned for three hungry girls. Everything good,
and plenty of it.
"My!" whispered Peggy, "isn't this fine? But how funny to have no
table-cloth! We always have a red one at supper."
"Do you?" said Margaret. "Papa always liked the bare table."
"Will you take the head of the table, miss?" asked Elizabeth. "I have set
your place here, and Miss--"
"Miss Peggy's," suggested Margaret gently.
"Thank you, miss! Miss Peggy's at the side here."
"Very well," said Margaret. "We shall sit just where you put us,
Elizabeth. And Miss Rita will sit opposite me and carve the chicken.
Oh, here she is! Rita, are you accomplished in the art of carving?"
Rita, who now came gliding in, shook her head as she took the seat
appointed her. "I have never attempted it," she said, "and don't think I
care to try, thanks! Take this to the sideboard and carve it," she added,
addressing Elizabeth in a tone of careless command. The woman
obeyed in silence; but the quick colour sprang to Margaret's cheek, and
she looked as much distressed as if the rude speech had been addressed
to her.
Peggy stared. "Don't they say 'please' in Havana?" she said in a loud
whisper to Margaret. But Margaret rattled the tea-cups, and pretended

not to hear.
"Will you take tea, Rita, or chocolate?" she asked quickly.
"Chocolate, please," replied her cousin languidly. "I wonder if it will be
fit to drink? One hears that everything of that sort is so frightfully
adulterated in this country."
"It looks delicious," said Margaret, pouring out the smooth, brown
liquid. "Do you see, girls, what lovely cups these are? Look, Rita, they
are all different! I shall give you this delicate pink one, for it just
matches your gown. Such a pretty gown!" she added admiringly,
glancing at the pale rose-coloured silk and rich lace that set off the clear
pallor of Rita's complexion in a wonderful way.
"It is only a tea-gown!" said the latter carelessly. "I have brought no
clothes to speak of. Yes, the cup does match it rather well, doesn't it?"
"And you, Peggy," said Margaret, "shall have this blue darling with the
gold arabesques. Surely, anything would taste good out of such
cups,--take care! Oh, my dear!"
Margaret sprang up and tried to recapture the cup which had just left
her hand. But it was too late! Peggy had taken it quickly, grasping the
edge of the saucer. Naturally, the saucer tilted up, the cup tilted over,
and a stream of chocolate poured over her hand and arm, and
descended into her lap, where it formed a neat brown pool with green
flannel banks. Moreover, an auxiliary stream was meandering over the
table, making rapid progress towards the rose-coloured silk and