"Heavens! what extravagance!" she cried. "Does the creature know that lace like that is worth its weight in diamonds? A silk robe, too, which could not be purchased out of Paris, tumbled up in a wad, and one mass of wrinkles! I see! I see! the revenues of a duke would not meet such extravagance! Get up! Get up, I say! and if you must make a goose of yourself, do it at less cost!"
"Hush, madam! she's sick! She's broken-hearted!" retorted Eliza, turning fiercely red and planting herself before the shrinking girl.
"Well, she must break her heart in something less costly than a French dress worth thirty pounds, and point lace that cannot be got at any price! Just get up, my young lady, and do your crying in less expensive costume! The proper dress for tragedy is white muslin, but just now a night-gown will do."
Caroline arose without a word, and began to undress herself. She no longer shrank or trembled, for the indignant blood rushed to the surface, and pride gave her strength. Eliza took the robe as she cast it off, and folded it with an emphatic sweep of her hand.
"A pretty mess you have made of it," said Olympia, tossing the lace aside with her foot, and tearing it on the buckle of her shoe, "with your perverse obstinacy—broken up the most splendid debut I ever saw on any stage, and making yourself and your failure the town's talk! if the critics had not been my friends, the whole thing would have been utter ruination; and here you are, with cheeks like flame, looking as haughty as a duchess."
"I am not haughty or perverse," said Caroline, wiping the hot tears from her eyes, "but weary and ill."
"Ill! with that color?" sneered Olympia.
"It is fever," Eliza broke in. "Ten minutes ago she was white as the pillow. You are making her worse and worse, I can tell you that."
"And I can tell you that impudent tongue will lose you a good place within the next ten minutes, if it is not bridled and well curbed. I stand no nonsense from servants. Understand that!"
Caroline cast an imploring glance on her maid, who dashed both hands down upon the dress she was folding, and ground her teeth in silent rage, as Olympia finished the threat with a little snap of her slender fingers.