“Yes, Senhora; it is a beautiful night,” responded Juliana.
A little before nine a carriage stopped at the door. It was Donna Felicidade. She came in very much excited, saying that the horses had been frightened by a fire-engine that had passed them on their way.
And how warm it was! she said. She had been suffocating all day. And now that there was not a breath of air stirring! She had preferred an open carriage to a coupé, where to a certainty they would have suffocated. Juliana came and went, closing doors, and putting things in order, devoured by curiosity, and with eyes and ears wide open. But Donna Felicidade, immovable in her chair, continued to talk without ceasing; she related in all its details the episode of the fire-engine, told of the attack of indigestion she had had on the previous day from eating pea-shells; afterwards how the cook had wanted to cheat her, and of a visit the Countess of Arruella had made her.
She rose and went to the dressing-table to powder her neck, which, as she said, was bathed in perspiration.
“Let us go, my dear,” said Luiza; “it is growing late.”
Juliana lighted them out. She was furious. Where could they be going? Not a single word on that point! How unseemly for two women to go out alone at night in a hired carriage! If a servant should remain out half an hour later than usual, what a scolding she would receive!
She went up to the kitchen. She wanted to gossip a little with Joanna,—to laugh a little. But Joanna said, yawning, that she was so tired that her knees were bending under her. She had been out all day.
“I must go to bed to get over my fatigue,” she added.
“That’s right,” returned Juliana, in a mocking voice. “Go play the sluggard! How little it takes to tire you!”
She went down to Luiza’s room, put out the lights, and opened the window. The air was heavy, dark, hot, and motionless. She drew out a low chair to the balcony, and disposed herself to spend the evening there with her arms folded, digesting an abundant dinner.