"Mademoiselle will wish something to eat after her journey," said madame, who had already by examining Juliet's luggage ascertained that she came from London. "If she will say what, it shall be served to her here."
At first, Juliet refused everything; but after some persuasion, she said timidly that she would like a cup of tea.
"Adolphe shall bring it directly," madame said, and hurried away to make it herself.
As soon as she had gone, Juliet rushed to the window and made desperate attempts to open it. She did not understand its foreign construction, and for some time strove in vain; but at last she succeeded in forcing it open, and leaned out to breathe the fresh air. Then she saw to her surprise that her window commanded nothing save a view of roofs. One roof shelved away from its very sill, then there was a narrow space beyond which rose another roof, and another and another. To right and left they spread, rising and falling in varying heights, with tall chimneys appearing here and there.
At one side the beautiful old belfry of a church was visible, and this was the sole object on which the eye could rest with pleasure. Juliet drew in her head with a heavy sigh. Somehow the sight of all those strange roofs, sheltering a life of which she knew nothing, brought home to her a bitter sense of her own lonely, forsaken, dreary position. She moved restlessly about the room, struggling to suppress the emotion which threatened to overwhelm her.
It seemed an age ere Adolphe, the waiter who had received her on her arrival, made his appearance carrying the tea in triumph. He had all the accessories on the tray. There was a metal teapot, a huge jug of hot water, and one almost as large tilled with milk; but the tea proved lukewarm and undrinkable. The making of tea was not to be included amongst the hotel's triumphs of cookery. Juliet drank a little of the milk, and then, unable to bear up longer against fatigue and misery, threw herself on the bed and sobbed and cried till sleep came to her relief and wrapped her in blissful oblivion.
She slept for many hours, and when she awoke it was past midday. She sat up and gazed about her with dazed eyes, not knowing for a few moments where she was. The crimson velvet chairs, the showy adornments of the foreign room, quickly brought everything to her recollection, and she uttered a low groan of despair. What was she to do? How could she stay on here alone? Would Algernon ever come to her rescue?
She sprang from the bed, impatient of the thoughts that tormented her. She unlocked her trunk and began to take out some of her things. She examined the resources of her room, carefully arranged her belongings, and finally proceeded to make her toilette in the most leisurely way, wishing to occupy as much time as possible. She brushed out her long shining hair and put it up with fastidious care, deriving even in her misery some satisfaction from the effect she produced. She exchanged her travelling gown for one of a soft grey material which became her admirably. The sense of freshness and coolness she thus attained was reviving; but oh, was ever a day so long us this?
The clock in the old church belfry she could see from her window was only now striking three! What could she do with herself? Apparently her room was situated above the kitchen, and high as was her window, the smell of cooking reached her nostrils, making her aware that she was very hungry. But she had not the courage to go down and ask for food. She shrank from encountering curious eyes again, or from meeting more of those meaning, smiling glances from madame, which even now stung her as she recalled them.
She remembered that she had some biscuits in her travelling bag, and she ate these with what remained of the milk that had been brought to her. She had a novel, too, in her bag, and she tried to pass the time in reading that, but found it impossible to fix her attention upon it. No one came near her, though she heard plenty of life and stir in the house. Steps resounded on the stairs and along the passages, and voices vehemently raised reached her ears from time to time. Once or twice she heard the sound of an arrival, which she hoped might be that of Algernon. But the steps she heard advancing always ceased ere they reached her door. Presently, as her reflections grew more serious, she found herself, in spite of her loneliness and fear, hoping that he would not come.