“For a husband, it seems to me cheap.”
“And if the cards deceive?”
“Then it is dear.”
Donna Felicidade exhaled a profound sigh. She was very unhappy. This struggle between the impulses of the heart and the counsels of economy made her suffer intensely. Luiza was sorry for her, and said to her, as she took one of her gowns from the wardrobe, “Never mind it, my dear; those magic arts will not be necessary.”
Donna Felicidade raised her eyes towards heaven.
“Are you going out?” she asked Luiza in a melancholy voice. And she proposed to her that they should go together to the Encarnação; they would call to see poor Donna Ana Silveira, who was afflicted with a boil; and they could also take a look at the preparations being made in the chapel, where they were about to use for the first time a new altar-front exquisitely carved.
“I should like to make the stations for the relief of my indigestion,” she added, sighing.
Luiza agreed; she felt a desire to see altars blazing with lights, to hear the murmur of the prayers in the choir, as if devout phrases were in harmony with the sentimental mood of her spirit. She began to dress herself quickly.
“How plump you are!” exclaimed Donna Felicidade, looking at her bare neck and shoulders in surprise.
Luiza looked at herself smilingly in the glass, pleased with the graceful contours of her figure, and with the fineness and whiteness of her skin.