“What nonsense!” Luiza said quickly, with a smile; “I am the same towards every one.”
This gave her food for thought, however. It might be that Joanna suspected something, that she had heard something from Juliana. On the following day, to keep her in good-humor, she gave her two silk handkerchiefs, and afterwards, two thousand reis, to buy a dress with. From this time forth she never refused her permission to go of an evening to visit her aunt.
Joanna declared on all occasions that the mistress was an angel. In the neighborhood they began to remark Juliana’s finery. They had heard of her new gown, and they whispered to one another that Juliana had money laid by. Senhor Paula said with indignation that there was some mystery there. Juliana, in order to silence suspicion, thought fit to give some explanation to Paula and the tobacconist.
“They say I have this, that, and the other,” she said; “it is no such thing. I have, it is true, some comforts; but remember how I took care of the aunt, day and night, without a moment’s rest. No matter how much they may do for me, they can never repay me for that, for I lost my health on account of it.”
Thus was Juliana’s prosperity explained. The family were grateful to her, the neighbors said, and treated her as if she were a relative. As a consequence of this the house of the engineer came to be regarded by the servants of the neighborhood as a sort of paradise. It was asserted that the wages were high, with wine at discretion; that the servants received presents every week, and that they had chicken-broth daily. They all desired these good things for themselves. The inculcadeira contributed to extend the fame of the house, which became at last the subject of a sort of fairy-tale. Jorge, to his astonishment, received every day letters from people offering themselves to him as servants,—butlers, cooks, grooms, housekeepers, coachmen, porters, scullions. They mentioned the wealthy houses in which they had been employed, and offered to send references.
“Strange!” said Jorge to himself, walking up and down the room. “They dispute with one another the honor of serving me. One would suppose I had drawn the grand prize in the lottery.”
But he attached no great importance to the matter. He was very much occupied in the writing of his memoir, and he left the house every day at twelve, to return at six laden with rolls of paper and maps, tired, hungry, and joyous. He related to his guests, one Sunday evening, laughing, what had taken place.
The counsellor thought it very simple.
“Donna Luiza’s good temper, Jorge,” he said, “her excellent disposition; a salubrious neighborhood; a peaceful household, without family disputes. It is natural that servants less favored by fortune should aspire to so agreeable a position.”
“That is my opinion also,” said Jorge, patting Luiza gayly on the shoulder.