"God keep you, Irma! God keep you!" shrieked the parrot. Irma started with a shudder.
CHAPTER XV.
Spring returned, ushered in by the merry singing of larks and finches, and bringing with it the latest Paris fashions. The queen now appeared in public, and the ladies of the capital were delighted to pattern their costumes after hers.
The queen drove out, with Irma beside her, and Walpurga and the prince opposite.
"You must not worry when you're at home again," said the queen to Walpurga.
Addressing the queen in French, Irma said, with a smile: "Countess Brinkenstein would disapprove of your manifesting any interest in the future fortunes of one whose term of service is at an end."
With a degree of boldness that surprised her two well-wishers, Walpurga said: "There'll be one advantage at any rate, for, at home, they won't treat me as if I were deaf and dumb."
"How do you mean?"
"Why, they wouldn't, while I was about, say things that I can't understand."
Irma endeavored to pacify her, but without avail. Walpurga's longing for home had made her exacting and dissatisfied. She felt ill at ease everywhere, and felt sure that the very people who had done so much to humor and spoil her would soon get along without her.