The other half--although
since seven o'clock all Kitty's servants had been employed in rushing to
Fanchette's establishment in New Bond Street, at half-hour intervals, in
the fastest hansoms to be found--had not yet appeared.
However, here at last was the end of despair. A panting boy dragged the
box into the hall, the butler and footman carried it up-stairs and into
their mistress's room, where Kitty in a white peignoir stood waiting,
with the brow of Medea.
"The boy that brought it looked just fit to drop, my lady!" said the
maid, as she undid the box. She was a zealous servant, but she was glad
sometimes to chasten these great ones of the land by insisting on the
seamy side of their pleasures.
Kitty paused in the eager task of superintendence, and turned to the
under-housemaid, who stood by, gazing open-mouthed at the splendors
emerging from the box.
"Run down and tell Wilson to give him some wine and cake!" she said,
peremptorily. "It's all Fanchette's fault--odious creature!--running it
to the last like this--after all her promises!"
The housemaid went, and soon sped back. For no boy on earth would she
have been long defrauded of the sight of her ladyship's completed gown.
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