Christmas Carol Read Online Free PDF

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Chapter 2
     
     
    “Caroline, my dear, wake up. How can you be
dozing on such an important night?”
    “Who—what?” Carol battled the last shreds of
a lavender-scented mist into the background of her mind so she
could determine who was speaking to her. The voice was vaguely
familiar.
    “Dear sister, you have been dreaming.” A
youthful face surmounted by short curls of pale gold hair presented
itself to Carol’s confused sight.
    “Dreaming?” Carol repeated. Then,
remembering. “No, this is Lady Augusta’s doing.”
    “Oh, dear.” The pretty girl leaning over
Carol bubbled with barely suppressed laughter. “Has Aunt Augusta
brewed another of her famous herbal potions and sent you to sleep
when you ought to be up and stirring in preparation for the
ball?”
    “Aunt?” repeated Carol. “What ball?”
    “The Christmas ball, silly. Oh, do wake up,
Caroline. It is time to put on your gown, and you did promise that
I should be the only one to help you. Come, now, out of that chair
at once.”
    Thus urged, Carol could only obey. She was
sitting in a wing chair that, save for a change of upholstery, was
the same chair in which she had been sitting while eating her
lonely dinner and while talking to the ghost of Lady Augusta.
However, the room in which she now found herself was most
definitely not the same. This was a luxuriously furnished room, a
lovely and spacious chamber with pale blue walls and ornate white
molding all around the ceiling. A simpler molding outlined panels
on every wall. A warming fire blazed high in the fireplace, candles
burned on the wide mantel to light the room, and more candles shone
upon tables and in wall sconces. And the once-frayed green fabric
covering the wing chair was transformed into a fresh shade of blue
brocade.
    “I do believe Aunt Augusta was right after
all,” said the blond girl, lifting the hem of the gown that was
spread across the blue coverlet of a large, canopied bed. “Peach is
more properly your color than white.”
    This charming creature was herself gowned in
white, a dress made with a high waistline, a low, rounded neck, and
tiny puffed sleeves. A simple gold locket hung about her neck on a
thin gold chain and her earrings were tiny pearls with pearl
droplets. Her sweet face appeared to be untouched by cosmetics.
Though Carol had never seen the girl before, she felt a peculiar
stirring of affection toward her, as if she did know her and as if
the girl were important.
    “Off with your wrapper,” said the girl,
tugging upon the sash at Carol’s waist. Looking down, Carol saw
that she was no longer wearing her old bathrobe and flannel
nightgown, but a pale yellow silk robe with ruffled edges. When she
let the girl remove it, Carol gaped at unfamiliar underwear. An
embroidered linen chemise covered a light corset that felt as if it
had thin stays in it. Sheer peach-colored stockings were gartered
at her knees. She was wearing flat satin slippers dyed a delicate
shade of peach.
    “Here you are.” The girl steered Carol toward
the bed. “Put up your arms. Do be careful, now. It is delicate and
we don’t want to tear it.”
    Carol followed the young woman’s instructions
without protest, standing still while a cloud of sheer, pale peach
fabric was lifted over her head and adjusted around her body. With
remarkable speed Carol’s companion fastened a row of tiny buttons
up the back of the dress. A gentle tug pulled everything into
place.
    “There. Don’t I make a wonderful lady’s maid?
My dearest, you have never looked lovelier. Montfort will be
ravished by the very sight of you. Just see for yourself.”
    “Montfort?” Yielding to the pressure of her
companion’s hands upon her shoulders, Carol turned to look into the
cheval glass that stood in one corner of the room. The reflection
that greeted her there was a real shock.
    It was her own face that Carol saw, but her
shoulder-length, light brown hair was cropped into a tumble of
short curls, a