Explore "The Laurel Walk" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the ladies returned to the drawing-room after dinner, two figures in white, with broad blue sashes, rose to greet them.
Frances' face grew still brighter. She had dreaded for her sisters an entrance into an already crowded room, for such to their inexperienced eyes would it have appeared a quarter of an hour or so later, though the number of guests was in reality but a small one. In addition to the Charlemonts, father, mother, and daughter, were one or two odd men, whom Horace had managed to secure from no great distance, and a young married couple, who thought nothing of a twelve-mile drive for the sake of a little variety in what they considered the dullest of dull neighbourhoods, where they were forced to pass three months of every winter, for the sake of pleasing an elderly uncle. They, like the rest of the party, were spending the night at Craig-Morion, and the young wife had been confiding to Frances, in their progress _from_ the dining-room, her regret that they were not nearer neighbours. For Miss Morion's appearance and name had at once caught her attention.