“Go on; amuse yourself; I will make you pay for it all by-and-by.”
This filled her with pride, and she had a vague sense of being mistress of the house. She held in her hand the happiness, the good name, of her master and mistress. What joy! Her future was secure. Her secret was money,—the bread of her old age. At last her turn had come; and she recited every day a salve of thanks to our Lady the Mother of Sinners.
But after the scene with Luiza she could no longer stand with her arms folded, with the letters in her pocket. She must go out; she must do something. She resolved to consult Aunt Victoria.
On the following morning, at about seven o’clock, without taking her coffee, or saying a word to Joanna, she went downstairs, and out of the house.
Aunt Victoria was not at home. In the little parlor were several persons awaiting her return. Senhor Gouvêa, with the tassel of his cap in a tangle, was leaning over the table, writing, and nursing his cold. Juliana said good-day to every one in general, and then sat down, very erect, in a corner of the room, holding her parasol between her knees.
About half an hour afterwards Aunt Victoria entered hurriedly, and seeing Juliana, said to her,—
“Ah, you here already? I had some business to attend to, and I have been out since six this morning. Good-day, Senhora Theodosia; good-day, Anna; hello, my handsome youth! Come in here, Juliana; I shall be back directly, chickens; it is a question of a moment.”
She led Juliana into a room that opened on the hall.
“What is there new?” she asked.
Juliana gave her a minute account of the scene of yesterday, ending in her mistress’s fainting.