“But what is this? What is the matter, child? Are you angry with me?”
Luiza, choking with sobs, made no reply.
Jorge kissed her again and again, and made her inhale smelling-salts. Only after some time was she able to say with choking voice,—
“You spoke so harshly to me, and I feel so nervous.”
He laughed, he called her a foolish child, he wiped away her tears; but he remained thoughtful. He had already noticed in her a certain inexplicable sadness and dejection, alternating with a sort of nervous irritability. What did it mean?
In order that Jorge might not observe Juliana’s neglect of her duties in the future, Luiza began to do herself what Juliana left undone. Juliana perceived this, and very quietly adopted the plan of leaving her more and more each day in which to amuse herself. She began by leaving off dusting, then sweeping, and finally she no longer made the beds. Donna Felicidade came in one day unexpectedly, and saw Luiza sweeping the parlor.
“It is all very well for one who has no servant to do that,” she said; “but for you—”
Juliana had such a quantity of clothes to starch, Luiza replied.
“You should not excuse her from any of her duties; far from thanking you, she will laugh at you. You are giving her bad habits. She must learn to put up with her lot.”
Luiza smiled, and said,—