"You are tired?" asked Lady Ingram, turning to Celia. "Very well, you shall go to bed. I will leave the forming of your manners at present; by and by I shall have something to say to you. Thérèse will dress your hair in the morning. Adieu! come and embrace me."
Thérèse appeared at the door, and after giving her some directions in French, her mistress desired Celia to courtesy to the Consul and follow Thérèse. The maid led Celia into a tolerably large room, with a French bed, which Thérèse informed her that she would have to herself.
"Ah! dat you have de hair beautifuls!" said Thérèse, as she combed it out. "I arrange it to-morrow. Mademoiselle like Madame?"
Celia liked no part of this speech. She knew that her hair was not beautiful, and felt that Thérèse was flattering her; while whatever might be her feelings on the subject of Lady Ingram, she had no intention of communicating them to her Ladyship's maid. Her answer was distant and evasive.
"Aha!" said Thérèse, with a soft laugh to herself. "Perhaps Mademoiselle shall like Monsieur Philippe. Monsieur Philippe love to hear of Mademoiselle."
Celia's heart warmed in a moment to her unknown brother. "How old is he?" she asked.
"Nineteen," said Thérèse.
"And my eldest brother, how old is he?"
"Sir Edward?" asked the French maid. "Ah! I see him very little. He is two, tree, five year older as Monsieur Philippe. He come never."
Celia resolved to question Thérèse no further, and the latter continued brushing her hair in silence.