“Senhora, things cannot go on in this way. It seems as if you were afraid to look me in the face. I have come back to perform my duties as formerly. Of course, I expect the senhora to fulfil her promise, for I will not give up the letters without securing bread for my old age. What I said was on the spur of the moment, and I have asked pardon for it. I want to perform my duties while I am here. If the senhora is not willing,” she ended curtly, “I will leave the house, and it may be the worse for every one.”
“But—” began Luiza, in confusion.
“No, Senhora,” Juliana interrupted severely; “I am the servant.”
And she left the room, tossing her head.
Luiza was terrified by so much audacity. This thief, it appeared, was capable of anything. In order to avoid irritating her, she called her, from this forth, whenever she had occasion for her services. “Bring this,” “Bring that,” she would say, without looking at her. But Juliana was so obliging and so discreet, that Luiza, following the impulse of her fickle nature, and tired of letting things take their course, began to lose her first vivid sense of her misfortune, and at the end of three weeks things had again fallen into their natural order, as Juliana said. Luiza now called her to her room, and sent her on errands when she had occasion to do so. They went so far as to exchange a few words together. “How warm it is!” “The laundress is late in coming.” One day Juliana ventured on the following words, in a confidential tone,—
“I met the servant of the Senhora Leopoldina to-day.”
“Is her mistress still in Oporto?” asked Luiza.
“She will remain there a month longer, at least, Senhora.”
Altogether the house wore an aspect of tranquillity; and Luiza, after so many agitations, surrendered herself to the enjoyment of this repose. She went occasionally to see Donna Felicidade in the Encarnação, and continued to wait for Sebastião’s return, but without impatience, almost happy in the thought that the time was yet distant when she should say to him, “Sebastião, I have written a letter to a lover.”
Thus the days wore on until the end of September. One afternoon Luiza was seated at the window in the dining-room. She had been reading, but the book had fallen from her hand, and she was now gazing with a smile at a flock of pigeons that had flown from some neighboring villa and lighted on the wall of the yard. Then her thoughts reverted to Bazilio. At this moment Juliana appeared in the doorway.