In those few minutes Lois had thrown off her cloudy robes, divested herself completely of her assumed character of Undine, and donned a handsome black silk evening-dress.
Lady Quaintree was carrying a black-and-gold case, which she placed upon the dressing-table and opened. It contained a complete set of jet ornaments.
She ordered Justine to unfasten the black lace already upon Miss Turquand’s robe, and replace it by that in her custody.
The black lace selected by Lady Quaintree was, Justine knew, very valuable, and the richest she had; the jet ornaments, she also knew, her ladyship prized; so, great was her secret amazement not only to see Miss Turquand habited in black, when the blue and white she had meant to wear was lying outspread upon a couch, but at the lively interest displayed by Lady Quaintree in the somber metamorphosis, and perhaps, above all, at the fact of the stately dame being in Miss Turquand’s apartment.
The discreet Frenchwoman, however, said not one word; but, taking out needles and thread from a “pocket-companion,” she dexterously obeyed the orders received from her mistress.
Lois was so astounded by the news she had heard that she was incapable of doing anything but what, in fact, she had already done, implicitly followed directions. She permitted Lady Quaintree to clasp the jet suite upon her neck and arms, and in her ears, and looked at the gloves, and handkerchief, and fan with the glance of one walking in her sleep.
Justine, wondering, though she did not utter a syllable, was dismissed, and Lady Quaintree desired Lois to sit down.
“We have already been absent nearly twenty minutes,” she said, consulting her tiny watch. “I wished to arrange your toilet before I told you what is really in this will. Perhaps you think I treat you as a child; but you are already agitated, and when you know the eccentric nature of the conditions, you will, probably, be much startled. Pray read it, my dear.”
Lois did so, with changing color and flashing eyes. When she finished, she threw the paper upon the table, and, rising from her chair, walked to and fro, as if under the influence of uncontrollable emotion. Then she abruptly paused before Lady Quaintree, extending her hands as if in protest.
“Why should this person,” she exclaimed, “of whom I never heard—of whom I knew nothing till this hour—why should this stranger have left me all this money, and why bind me with such conditions? I feel as if I could not, ought not, to accept the gift he has given me. He must have been a lunatic!”