“What is the matter?” Molly demanded anxiously.
“Oh, mademoiselle, I am sent to say that it must that all go to-day!”
“To-day!” Molly screamed; “I thought that we were to remain until Friday anyway?”
“And I also thought it. Let mademoiselle but figure to herself how yesterday I did all unpack in the thought of until Friday; and now to-day I am bidden inpack once more!”
“Now, did you ever?” Molly asked emphatically of Rosina, who shook her head and looked troubled in good earnest. “Do you really think that she means it?” she continued, turning to the maid once more; “she sometimes changes her mind, you know.”
“Not of this time, mademoiselle, I have already arrange her hairs, and I am bidden place her other hairs in the case.”
“Then it’s settled,” cried the Irish girl despairingly; “when her hair is done, the end of all is at hand. What train do we go by, Claudine?”
“I am not of all sure, mademoiselle; madame has spoken of he who runs by Schaffhausen.”
The Irish girl sighed heavily.
“Very well, Claudine, you and I know what it is to travel as we do. Go to madame and tell her I will come as soon as I am dressed,” and then she picked up the honey-jar and sighed again.