“I have taken it on myself,” continued Donna Felicidade, seating herself, “to make up your company this evening. This morning I met the counsellor, and he promised me he would come. I met him in the Martyrs. Think what a piece of good fortune,—the first day I was able to go out. A little farther on I stumbled upon Julião, and he too promised to come.” And she added in a fainting voice, “Do you know that I should not mind taking a little refreshment?”
Luiza it was who opened the door in the evening for the counsellor and Julião, who met on the doorstep, saying to them with a laugh,—
“I am the porter for to-night.”
When they entered the parlor, Donna Felicidade, making an effort to conceal the disturbance produced in her mind by the sight of her beloved Accacio, began to scold Luiza for allowing the two servants to go out on the same day.
“What if you had been taken ill?” she said.
Luiza smiled. She was not given to fainting, she answered. They found her looking a little pale, and the counsellor asked her with interest,—
“Do you still suffer from your teeth, Donna Luiza?”
“From her teeth!” exclaimed Donna Felicidade. “This is the first time I have heard of her having the toothache.”
Julião declared that he had never seen so perfect a set of teeth.
The counsellor hastened to quote,—