The color rose slowly to Esmeralda’s face.
“You are going to be the sensation of the season,” continued Lady Wyndover, “and,” with a little rueful laugh, “I have got a nice time before me, I can see! You will be a good girl, and do as I tell you, won’t you, dear? And you will tell me everything, will you not? You see, you are so—so young, and so—so fresh; and some of the men, who ought not to do so, will make love to you—the men you ought not to marry always do—and we shall have to be very careful! For, now I have seen you, I have set my heart upon your doing really great things, and—and— Do you understand me, dear?”
“I don’t know,” said Esmeralda, with a puzzled air. “Why should the men want to marry me? And what does it matter? I’m not obliged to marry any of them.”
Lady Wyndover laughed as if she were pleased.
“That is delightful! You couldn’t have said anything better!” she exclaimed in her low, thin voice. “That is exactly it! My dear child, you can marry whomsoever you please. Don’t forget that! Remember it always—always! With your face and fortune you can take the very best of them! Oh! I wonder how long Cerise will be?”
Esmeralda, as she lay drowsily falling asleep that night, felt as if she had exchanged places with some one else, and as if the girl of Three Star Camp had been, not herself, but some one of whom she had only heard or read; and the strange feeling grew more vivid as the days passed and the new life unfolded itself.
Lady Wyndover was far too clever a woman of the world to let her ward, the great Chetwynde heiress, be seen until she was properly clothed, and she kept herself and Esmeralda carefully secluded while Madame Cerise was at work. She would not even let Esmeralda ride in the park, though she begged to be allowed to do so, and Lady Wyndover was bound to admit that the habit could defy criticism.
“No, dear,” she said to the puzzled Esmeralda, “you must keep out of sight until Cerise is ready. If you were to be seen in the Row, people would insist upon knowing you—and the season is just commencing, and there are plenty of people up already—and I don’t want you to appear until you can do so to the fullest advantage. You must be content, for a few days, with a ride in the brougham—you couldn’t keep the window-shades up, I suppose?—and with my society alone. Oh! yes, you can walk before breakfast, in the park; no one is up until after twelve; but you must take Thomas or Barker.”
“Why?” demanded Esmeralda, amazedly.
“To take care of you, my dear.”