This from Mattie Blake, the eldest of the party, sitting on the bed, and dangling her feet idly.
"Rather risky," said little Joan in her shy voice.
"Risky! how absurd!" Bella Jones exclaimed. And finally I broke in with:
Mattie, with the superiority of her years, looked very scornfully upon my small figure.
"Philip Sydney will be there, himself, and you may be sure he will be delighted. Now come, Cecilia, don't make any new objections. Remember you promised me last night;" and Mattie's black eyes flashed angrily.
We all remained silent for two or three moments, while the dusk of the spring afternoon gathered in the room. It was a big bare-looking room, with our four beds and four dressing-tables and four chairs, but to my mind the scene of much that was fascinating in our school life at Hillbrow, for there Mattie Blake entertained us on every occasion with thrilling experiences, in which she was usually the successful and admired heroine. Nothing could have been more monotonous than our daily school life, and these hours and Mattie's recitals were looked forward to with romantic interest.
Looking back, I remember Mattie as a tall, thin, black-eyed girl of about fourteen, with saucy, independent ways, and a touch of what I now know was a vulgar love of show about her. In her dress, her profuse jewelry, her crimped hair, and her voice and laugh, she was not really the fine young person we girls thought her. From her own accounts, she led the most bewitching life at home. Her father was a rich railroad man--a widower, who left Mattie to her own devices; and when she descended one winter's morning into our midst she seemed to bring splendor and riches and excitement with her.
How she had happened to select me as a desirable acquaintance I can not say, but the fact was soon known to the school. Mattie's favor was bestowed upon my insignificant self, and I was delighted to be her humble servitor. My own little past seemed very tame in comparison with Mattie's: she had "fun" of the most daring, brilliant kind whenever she was at home; I had led a thoroughly childish life, yet there had been much pleasure in it too; but who could compare it with Mattie's?
My father was a country clergyman, and on my mother's death, dear, dear Aunt Anna had come to live with us, and to make our home very sweet and happy. But for Mattie's influence not a shadow would have fallen on my enjoyment of home pleasures and home duties; but during this one season she had sowed seeds of discontent. Already I was beginning to dread a return to Bridgeley, even though I knew the pleasures that were waiting for me: the rides on my pony, with Philip and Laura Sydney, the Squire's son and daughter; the long days out fishing and sailing; the picnics and the girls' sewing circle; the evenings at home, with papa to read aloud to us; and the quiet sunny Sunday mornings, when I liked to stand beside Miss Sydney at the organ, and hear my voice mingling with the rest in sweet, simple songs of praise to God.