“My love,” Lady Quaintree said, closing the door with a careful hand, “I am so pleased I can hardly tell you how much. You, no doubt, wish to know the contents of this wondrous paper? My dear, it is as interesting as a fairy-tale. You are a good girl, and deserve all the good fortune Heaven may please to send you.”
She kissed the young girl’s forehead very kindly. Lois returned the caress with passionate warmth, and laid her head down upon her old friend’s shoulder.
“Lois, before I give you this to read, I want you to do something, which, perhaps, you might feel too agitated afterward to manage.”
“What is that, dear madam?”
“You must not call me ‘madam’ or ‘my lady’ any more, pet. I want you to change this fantastical dress for your black silk, and wear my pretty jet ornaments, and also a pair of my white gloves, with the black silk embroidery which I bought in Paris. I think it is a mark of respect you owe to your benefactor. Did you ever see or hear of him?”
“Never, madam.”
“Shall I ring for Justine to help you in dressing?”
A faint smile dimpled the corners of the young girl’s lips as she shook her head.
Lady Quaintree looked about for the bell, then laughed at her own forgetfulness. From this little chamber—formerly a small dressing-room—there was no communication with the servants’ domain. Her ladyship, taking the copy of the will with her, crossed to her own apartment, only a few steps distant.
When she returned, she was followed by her waiting-maid, who was carrying a package of black laces; a pair of gloves; a filmy lace handkerchief, on which was some black edging; and a black fan—one of Lady Quaintree’s treasures, for it had once belonged to Marie Antoinette.