“Well,” replied Miss La Chêne, “of course, any one could see how much you were suffering.”
Mrs. Robinson cast a glance at the mirror. With her handsome face pale with grief and Rachel powder, her eyes somber with pain and mascara, her regal form dressed all in black, she did indeed look tragic.
“What does it all matter?” she demanded. “You’ll stay here and look after the packing, won’t you, my dear? And my jewels—” This was too much for her. “My jewels!” she said wildly. “Almost all of them were given to me by him, in those days when he still loved me. Take them away! Never let me see them again—never! But be sure to get a receipt from the safe-deposit, my dearest child, and remember that the bank closes at three o’clock.”
She gave the jewel case to Miss La Chêne and turned with a shudder, covering her eyes with her hand.
“Take the five o’clock train, my dear,” she said. “I’ll see that you’re met at the station. Good-by! Good-by![Pg 196]”
“Au revoir!” said Miss La Chêne, with fervor.
Directly she was left alone, Miss La Chêne, with remarkable skill and energy, set about the business of packing. She did the job well—as, indeed, she did almost everything she undertook.
In a way she enjoyed the task, but in another way it was unspeakably painful. She adored handling these satin, silk, lace, chiffon, batiste, and georgette garments of Mrs. Robinson’s, these perfumes, powders, rouges, creams, and lotions, these hats, shoes, slippers, gloves, and scarfs. She could thoroughly appreciate the somewhat flamboyant tastes of the unhappy lady; but oh, how she coveted! Actually tears came into her eyes—tears of fearful envy.
She was an honest and sturdy little soul, however, and she tried to console herself with the reflection that, if she continued to be honest, industrious, and virtuous, she might some day have all that Mrs. Robinson had, and more. Even in boarding school she had known that she was going to marry a millionaire, and now she was so situated that she might meet one at almost any minute. Who could tell what might not happen at the house of this sister in Greenwich?
So she did her work; and when it was done, and the trunks had gone off, she sat down to rest for a little. It was at this minute, when her busy little hands were idle, that temptation assailed her. She wondered what Mrs. Robinson had in her jewel case. She discovered that the key was in the lock. She did not see what harm it could possibly do just to look at the jewels; and then she did not see what harm it could possibly do just to try on a few of them.