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But Lady Cranford did not even glance in her direction; she came quickly to her niece and, seizing her by the arms, almost forcibly seated her at the dressing-table.

– There is no time to lose- Oh, my dear, have you been crying? In vain: your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are red… You'll need powder.

Vivian had not expected such a sudden turn of events and was discouraged by her aunt's persistent and strange behaviour.

– Had the dresses been found? But where are they? – she asked the countess absent-mindedly.

– They will be brought in a few minutes," she replied, and began to take out the pins from her niece's high hair. – In the meantime, you take care of your hair: this one is no good....

– But, auntie, I won't have time…

– Don't forget: for your debut, wear a white dress and white gloves above the elbow…

– Auntie! There's so little time.

– You don't need much jewellery. But take that bird chain off your neck, it's too simple. You have more expensive jewellery, don't you? If not, I'll bring my own.

– Thank you, but I have more colourful jewellery in that box over there. – Vivian was confused: she had only fifty minutes to go to the ball! Didn't her aunt realise that in that time it was impossible to choose and put on a dress, shoes and gloves, to do her hair and powder her face? She will not go to the ball!

Lady Cranford opened her jewellery box, went through it in silence, and held out to her niece a short string of dazzling white pearl beads.

– Do you have earrings or clips like that? – she asked Vivian.

– 'Alas, auntie.

– Well, that will do. – The Countess went to the door. – 'I'll come and fetch you in forty minutes…'

"Forty? Not fifty?" – her poor niece was horrified.

– …Be ready: we must not be late. Here are your dresses! Remember: white dress and white gloves! – The Mistress of Greenhall left the chambers.

"What a lot of things she's bought! Where does she get all this money?" – Lady Cranford thought involuntarily, as she looked at the four footmen and three maids who, laden with many long covers, hurried into her niece's chamber.

– The dresses are here, Miss Vivian! – Jane shrieked with delight, but as she approached her friend she saw that she could hardly hold back her tears. – My dear miss, what are you saying?!

– Look at me, Jane! Look at my hair! How can you have time for a new hairdo? How can I be ready for the ball in forty minutes? – Vivian sobbed.

Jane glanced at Vivian's hair, which, devoid of bobby pins, was a thick, fiery waterfall down her back, but Jane combed her hair every morning and knew that it took a lot of effort to get those unruly, bouncy locks into a hairstyle.

– It will be all right, Miss Vivian, I'm sure I'll-

– Why try when I know we'll never make it! – Miss Cowell interrupted her nervously.

– Calm down and look at me! – Jane raised her voice slightly. Fortunately, the other servants were too busy putting away the covers to notice that Jane's maid had dared to shout at the mistress's own niece.

Vivian raised her eyebrows in surprise, but looked obediently at her friend.

– I shall have time to dress you, comb your hair, powder your hair, and wave to you from the window," said the maid in a confident tone.

– Are you sure about that? In forty minutes? – Vivian whispered: she was filled with hope.

– No doubt at all! But I need you to stop worrying and trust me.

– But how can I choose a dress if I haven't tried on any of them?

– Leave it to me. I'll choose a gown worthy of your beauty and your debut. And I swear to you, there will be no prettier lady at this ball than you.

Vivian smiled gratefully at her friend, and her eyes filled again with tears, but this time they were tears of emotion.

– Lead me, my dear Jane! – She said softly, and pressed Jane's hand in her own.

She answered her with a quiet smile, and went to the long covers that covered the wide bed, in which the new, freshly pressed, splendid dresses were waiting.

– Anthony, dear, may I come in? – came Lady Cranford's voice from outside her son's chamber.

– Of course, mother, come in," he said.

The door opened immediately, and the first thing the Countess saw was Emily making Mr. Cranford's bed. The windows of the room were wide open, and it was filled with the delicate fragrance of the flowers growing in the garden of Greenhall.

– Have you been resting, my dear? – The mistress of the house asked her son, looked him over with an appraising glance, and exclaimed. – Oh, what a handsome boy you are!

– It is difficult not to be handsome when my mother is so beautiful as you are, mother," Anthony answered gallantly, and a broad smile shone on his mother's face. – You look beautiful. Poor young girls who want to shine at this ball: you will outshine everyone and everything with your beauty.

– Come, my dear, the days of my splendour are behind me, and I am now the aged mother of two grown-up sons and the grandmother of three grandchildren! – Lady Cranford splashed her hands theatrically. – What a marvellous costume. But, Anthony, couldn't you have chosen something a little less dark? Black for one of the most highly anticipated events of the year? After all, you have so much in your wardrobe… What's that on your shoulder? – She carefully removed a long dark hair from her son's surtoute and looked up into Anthony's face in surprise. – A woman's hair? How did it end up on your coat?

– Emily must have dropped it when she was cleaning my coat," the young man shrugged and turned to the maid and gave her a cold look: – 'Next time, Emily, watch your hair.

– I beg your pardon, Mr. Cranford," Emily replied in a resigned tone. – Your bed is ready. What else do you want?

– Nothing. Go. No, stay. Bring me a glass of brandy," Anthony told her.

– Right away, Mr. Cranford. – Emily made a quick curtsy and hurried out of the chambers, lest her stern hostess should notice her flushed cheeks and slightly dishevelled hair, which would lead the lady to think that ten minutes ago her own son had been having an affair with a maid.

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