Of course it made her feel uncomfortable--of course it did. "I am not the vain puppet _he_ thinks me," she said, leaning on her dressing-table, and looking gravely at her illuminated reflection--the _he_ being Perior--"the very fact of my worrying over such a trifling incident proves that I am not. It is _his_ fault that I should feel so." She paused for a further turn of silent meditation before adding, "My only fault was in having trusted to his sense of fun, in having been amused. The rest followed inevitably. I could not have told Arthur Henge that I found his mother ridiculous, now _could_ I, you foolish creature?" and irrepressibly Camelia smiled at her lenient accuser in the glass. At this point of the colloquy a gentle tap at the door ushered in Mary. Mary, in a dressing-gown of just the wrong shade, was not an interesting object, and Camelia glanced over her reflection in the mirror without turning. She continued her own train of thought, hardly listening to Mary, though vaguely conscious that the awkward inquiries after her comfort were rather pointless.
"I thought you might want something, Camelia. I thought you looked rather pale," said Mary, drawing near with some timidity.
"No, thanks. I should have asked Grant, you know," replied Camelia, her elbows still on the dressing-table. She absently watched Mary lift her discarded gown from the floor, fold it, and lay it neatly over the back of a chair. "Don't mind about picking up those things, Mary," she added, yawning a little, and wishing rather that Mary would go. "Grant can do all that."
"I like to tidy up after you." Mary's smile was slightly forced. "See, Camelia, you need me to look after you--your pearl necklace under a chair."
"It must have caught in my bodice," said Camelia, glancing at the necklace as Mary laid it on the dressing-table. "That certainly was stupid of me. Thanks, dear." Mary still lingered.
"You don't want anything, you are sure? You feel quite well--and--happy, Camelia?" The question was so odd that Camelia turned her head and looked up, surprised, at Mary's rather embarrassed countenance.
"Yes; I fancied you might have something to tell me." This initiative was certainly amazing in the reserved Mary, and Camelia stared.