“You will let me speak to you in private some time or other?”
“Yes,” faltered Cecil, and he went out, while she, suddenly discovering Farideh’s part in the little scene which had just been enacted, taxed her with her guilt, and proceeded to give her a severe scolding in somewhat imperfect Arabic, though her lips would quiver sometimes with a smile in the sternest passages.
Lady Haigh was very mysterious that evening. She would not let Cecil go to dress for dinner until she herself could come too, and then she accompanied her to her room, where they found the two maids, Um Yusuf and Marta, gazing in speechless admiration at the contents of a great box they had just unpacked. With tender care they had laid on the bed a beautiful evening dress of soft, clinging white stuff, with borders of golden embroidery in a classic pattern, and now they were gently handling a white and gold cloak to match, and a fan of white feathers with a golden mount.
“My Christmas present to you, dear,” said Lady Haigh, kissing Cecil. “I flatter myself I know what suits you, and I see my London dressmaker has carried out my directions exactly. Let me see how you look in it.”
“O, Lady Haigh, you are too good!” gasped Cecil, fingering the delicate fabric with intense delight.
“Nonsense, Cecil! Do you think I didn’t know that you decided not to order out a new evening dress from home, because you wanted to send Fitz the money to get a camera with? I’m glad you like it, dear. If you are so very pleased, show it by looking nice in the dress, and by being kind to poor Charlie.”
The last sentence was in a lower tone, but Cecil shook with mirth; the idea of being bribed with a new dress to be kind to Charlie seemed so ridiculous. The thought suddenly came to her of the uncontrollable delight with which her little Irish stepmother would have viewed the whole scene, more especially the part which concerned the unexpected rewarding of her kindness to Fitz, and it was with difficulty that she restrained herself from bursting into a peal of laughter. It did not take long to array her in the wonderful white-and-gold dress, and even the sedate Um Yusuf, as she clasped the folds upon the shoulder with Azim Bey’s brooch as a finish, was moved into uttering words of admiration. Lady Haigh and Marta were no whit behind in their praise, and Cecil herself, on looking into the glass, felt that she could scarcely recognise the gorgeous vision there reflected.