Presently there was a sound of children’s voices on the stairs, and three little girls entered the room quietly and demurely. They were dressed exactly alike in dainty white frocks and broad sashes; two were pale and dark; they were Ethel and May Lanier; and one was fair and rosy, with wonderful golden hair hanging in burnished, waving masses below her waist, while the thick fringe across her forehead, although it looked a little refractory, as though it had just been cut, gave her a charmingly infantile and picturesque appearance.
The moment the little Laniers saw Arthur Maynard they ran to him talking, and laughing gaily, while Lady Jane,—for it was she, quite metamorphosed through the skill of Mrs. Lanier’s French maid, and one of Ethel’s dainty suits,—remained standing shyly in the center of the room.
Mrs. Lanier was watching her sweet little face with its puzzled, anxious expression. She held her hands tightly clasped, and her soft brows were slightly contracted, while she looked at the merry group with large, serious eyes. Presently a winsome smile broke over her face, and going slowly forward she said softly: “If you please, aren’t you the boy who gave me the blue heron?”
Arthur Maynard was quite beside himself with delight. Holding out both hands, he drew her to him, and putting his arm about her caressingly he said gaily: “Yes, Lady Jane, I’m the very boy. And so you remember me? I thought you’d forgotten me long ago.”
“Oh, no, no, I hadn’t; but,” with a little, tremulous smile, “you—you didn’t know me, did you?”
“Yes, you darling, I did; I was only waiting to see if you really remembered me.”
“Oh, but you didn’t know I saw you once before.”
“No, indeed. When and where was it?” asked Arthur eagerly.
“It was a long while ago. It was Mardi-gras, and I was lost; but you couldn’t see me, because I had on a domino,” replied Lady Jane, with dancing eyes and roguish little smile. “I called you, and you heard me, because you looked around; but you couldn’t see me.”
“Well, I declare! Now I remember! Of course, I couldn’t guess that the little pink crumpled thing was Lady Jane. Why didn’t you call me again?”