“This way, miss, this way; Mrs. Judson ordered me to be particular and bring you up these stairs.”
The girl withdrew her foot from the soft carpet and followed the boy in silence. The atmosphere of the house affected her feeble form pleasantly, and she longed to lie down and sleep before seeing her aunt. The carpets under her feet were so luxuriously pliant, it seemed impossible for her to move. The air was bland and fragrant; as she pressed forward, the breath of flowers from an open balcony swept over her, and it seemed, after the atmosphere of Bellevue, like a gale from paradise.
Oh! if she could but remain quietly where she was all night, without seeing any one, with that soft carpet to sleep on, the breath of those flowers floating over her. But no, the mulatto kept turning to be sure that she was close behind; for he seemed rather suspicious of her frequent pauses. At last he threw open a chamber-door.
“This is Mrs. Judson’s room, miss.” The boy made a feint as if going back in great haste, but returned in a moment, entered the chamber, gliding along the wall, and peeped through the partially closed door, with all the craft of his race, determined to ascertain by the first words whether the fair girl with her humble garments was really the niece of his mistress or not.
The room which this strange girl entered was a bed-chamber, fitted up in a style of stately grandeur which contrasted strongly with the mournful look and modest garb of the young girl, who should have claimed a free welcome there.
A spacious bed stood on one side; high up over the pillows was a light gilded canopy of grape-leaves and fruit, through which the crimson drapery, that swept to the ground on each side, gleamed like flashes of the sunset through a golden cloud. The same rich crimson broke through the open network of rosewood that formed the foot-board and side-pieces of the bedstead; and to this was contrasted the pure whiteness of richly laced pillows, and a counterpane that seemed of quilted snow. On a crimson lounge, severely magnificent, for all this grandeur had an air of rigid coldness hanging over it, Mrs. Judson was seated, with a slight frown upon her forehead, and her keen, black eyes fixed upon the door.
The girl saw this, as she paused a moment in the shadow before entering; and she saw also, with a sinking heart, that the frown deepened as she made her appearance; while a quick pressure of the lip added to the displeasure of that haughty face.
Mrs. Judson had evidently been disturbed while completing her evening toilet, for though her purple brocade fell in precise and voluminous richness adown her tall figure, her headdress of purple velvet and golden acorns hung upon a branch of gilded spray attached to the frame of her toilet-glass, while several diamond ornaments glittered upon the marble underneath, and an undersleeve of Brussels point had evidently fallen from her hand upon the carpet before she assumed her present imposing attitude.
“Well,” said the lady, with frigid dignity, “you have come again, I see; what is the trouble now?”
“I have no home—I am in want,” said the poor girl, in a quiet, sad voice. “You are my mother’s sister—sister to an angel in heaven—and in her name I ask you to have pity on me!”