“Yes?” asked Luiza, blushing faintly.
Leopoldina gave her all the details. She was by nature extremely indiscreet. From Luiza she had never had secrets. She consulted her alike in regard to her admirers, her opinions, her manner of life, her nervous attacks, and her gowns.
“So your cousin Bazilio is coming home again?” asked Leopoldina presently.
“So I have just read in the ‘Diario de Noticias,’” returned Luiza. “The news surprised me very much.”
“Ah, before I forget,” said Leopoldina, abruptly, “I should like to know how you have trimmed your blue check gown. I want to make one like it.”
“I have trimmed it with the same color, but of a darker shade. Come and look at it.”
They went into the bedroom. Luiza opened the window and then the wardrobe. The apartment was small and fresh-looking, and was furnished in pale-blue cretonne; a cheap carpet of a blue pattern on a white ground covered the floor. The high toilet-table stood between the windows under a canopy of coarse lace, and was furnished with, bottles of various sizes, and adorned with a cover embroidered by Luiza’s own hands. On stands in front of the windows were plants of luxuriant foliage, such as begonias and mahonias, whose leaves fell gracefully over the earthen flower-pots in which they were planted.
All these details, which breathed of peace and comfort, brought before Leopoldina’s mind images of tranquil joys. She looked around her, and said slowly:
“You are still very much in love with your husband, are you not? Ah, you are right,” she added, sighing; “you have cause to be so.”
She proceeded to powder her face and neck before the looking-glass. “Yes, you have cause to be so,” she repeated. “But show me the woman who could love a husband like mine.”