The old woman died at last: Juliana was not mentioned in her will!
Jorge, grateful for the care she had taken of his Aunt Virginia, paid the rent of a room for her, where she might remain for a few months, promising to take her at the end of that time into his house as chambermaid, as he was soon to be married. She fell ill shortly afterwards, and Jorge paid a bed for her in the hospital; when she left it for Jorge’s house she had already begun to complain of her heart. She had lost all her illusions; at times she wished to die. Luiza thought her, from the beginning, of sinister aspect. She would have dismissed her at the end of the fortnight, but Jorge would not consent to it; he did not regard her as Luiza did. Luiza respected his opinions, but she could not disguise her antipathy, and as a consequence Juliana soon began to detest her.
Soon afterwards Luiza began the arrangement of her house. The upholsterers came and renovated the furniture of the parlor. Aunt Virginia had left Jorge three contos de reis, and she, who for a year had been her nurse, treated by her with as much contempt as if she were a dog, and bound to her as if she were her shadow, enduring every species of discomfort, and deprived, night after night, of sleep, had been repaid with such ingratitude! She began to hate the house. For this she had many reasons, as she herself said: she slept in a noisome garret; at her dinner she had neither wine nor dessert; the ironing was heavy; both Jorge and Luiza took a bath every day, and it was a toilsome labor to fill and empty the bath-tub. She had served under twenty mistresses, and she had never before met with such folly. “The only advantage the place has,” she would say to Aunt Victoria, “is that there are no children.” She had a horror of children. Besides this, she found that quarter of the city healthy; and as she had the cook on her side, the latter gave her from time to time a bowl of broth or some dainty. Therefore she remained; if it were not for her—
Meantime she performed her duties, and no one had any fault to find with her. And as she had lost the hope of becoming independent, she no longer subjected herself to the restraints of saving. She thus took care of herself, indulging in some culinary fancy from time to time. She bought elegant boots, gratifying in this manner her puerile vanity.
“I go out to walk,” she would say, “with feet such as few can show.”
Her delight was to go on Sundays to the Passeio Publico, and sit there on a bench in the most frequented situation, with the edge of her gown slightly raised, in order to display to the passers-by with secret pleasure the point of her pretty little foot.
CHAPTER IV.
THE PUBLIC GARDENS.
AT about three in the afternoon Juliana entered the kitchen and threw herself down on one of the wooden chairs. She was so exhausted, she said, that she could scarcely stand. It had taken her two hours to arrange the parlor, which was like a pigsty. The visitor had left the ashes of his cigar on the table, for her, the poor slave, to clean away. And how warm it was I The heat was melting! Her yellow skin shone as if it had been anointed with oil.
“Is the soup not ready yet?” she asked, softening her voice. “Give me a little, Senhora Joanna.”
“You are not looking so well to-day,” said the cook.