Tabitha in Moonlight by Betty Neels

had several things to do for herself, and made her escape.
    It was a pity she couldn’t like Lilith; she had tried hard at first, for Lilith was exactly the kind of young sister she would have liked to have; small and dainty and blonde and so pretty that everyone looked at her twice at least. It had taken Tabitha an unhappy year to discover that Lilith was shallow by nature, spiteful by instinct, and only spoke the truth when it suited her. Also she hated Tabitha. Tabitha thought about that as she took out the present she had brought with her for Lilith’s birthday. It was an old silver locket and chain and she had chosen it with care because although she had no affection for Lilith, it would still be her birthday and nothing should spoil it.
    She spent the afternoon with Jenny and Tom in their little cottage, drinking strong tea and talking about old times, and then walked along the top of the cliffs and over the fields to the house. It looked beautiful in the sunshine and would be even more lovely later on in the evening, for the roses were well out and the balcony at the back of the house had been decorated with masses of summer flowers. She went indoors to the drawing room, cleared for dancing and just as lavishly decorated. She went through the double doors at the end of the room and up the staircase and met Lilith on the landing. ‘There you are,’ said her stepsister. ‘How untidy you look! I hope you’ll do better than that this evening. I’m coming to see your dress.’
    Tabitha paused at the foot of the little stairs. ‘I don’t think I want you to,’ she said quietly. ‘I promise you it’s quite suitable and I shan’t disgrace you.’
    She went on up the stairs and Lilith followed her. ‘Come on, Tabitha,’ she wheedled, ‘it’s my birthday—I’m supposed to be happy all day, and I shan’t be if I can’t see your dress.’
    Tabitha sighed. ‘Very well, though I assure you it’s nothing to get excited about.’
    She took it out of the cupboard and laid it on the bed, and Lilith said instantly in a furious voice: ‘You can’t wear it—you can’t!’
    â€˜Why not?’ Tabitha was too surprised to feel angry.
    â€˜The colour will clash with mine. It’s blue—pale blue—that dressof yours will make it look faded.’ She stamped her foot. ‘You shan’t wear it! You’ve done it on purpose so that I shan’t look prettier than everyone else.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly,’ said Tabitha bracingly. ‘Why should I do that? And how was I to know what colour you intended to wear—besides, we’re not going to stand together all the evening.’
    Lilith didn’t reply but ran out of the room; Tabitha could hear her voice, shrill with temper, raced downstairs, and braced herself for her stepmother’s inevitable intervention on her daughter’s behalf. Mrs Crawley swept in, the little smile Tabitha had learned to dread on her face. Her voice was pleasant and brisk.
    â€˜What’s all this fuss about your dress, Tabitha?’ Her eyes studied it, lying on the bed. ‘My dear, even if it didn’t clash with Lilith’s, you couldn’t really wear it. I mean, it just isn’t you, is it? Were you persuaded by some super sales-woman into buying it? There’s that pretty grey and white striped dress you had last year—so suitable. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to spoil Lilith’s birthday party—it is her party; you know—besides, there’s someone she met at the Johnsons’ the other evening and she wants to look her best for him, and there’s no one you particularly want to impress, is there?’
    Tabitha had gone a little white, for she had a fine temper, but she had learned to control it during the last few difficult years. She said now very evenly: ‘No, no one. It makes no difference at