“My mother! my mother sent for me! Are you very sure of this, Madelon?” inquired Alma, in great surprise, for she had never in her life before been summoned to her mother’s presence.
“Vat sood make me no sure? Miladie tell me, ‘Madelon, send Mees Elverton to me soon as she come in from her valk in de garden,’” said the old woman.
“Very well, Madelon; I will go to my mother directly,” replied Alma, as, lost in astonishment, she hurried up the stairs towards those private apartments into which she had never in her life been admitted, and where she had never dared to intrude.
She paused before the door, and knocked softly.
The deep, rich, vibrating voice of the lady bade her enter.
Alma opened the door, crossed the enchanted threshold, and stood within the heretofore prohibited apartments.
The room in which she found herself was one of the most lofty and spacious in the mansion. It was the front one of a magnificent suite of apartments, that had been splendidly fitted up for the first reception of Mrs. Elverton as a bride. It was situated directly over the drawing-room, and had a large bay window that commanded a view of the terraced lawn and the beautiful lake. But that window was now closed, and the room was lighted up for the night. It was sumptuously furnished. A Turkey carpet of the most brilliant colors covered the floor. The chiffoniers, stands, tables, chairs, and even all the frames and woodwork were of rosewood and gold, giving the tout ensemble a peculiarly rich effect. The coverings of the chairs, footstools and sofas were all of crimson satin and gold.
The curtains at the windows were also of crimson satin and gold, with inner hangings of fine lace. The walls were lined with splendid mirrors, reaching from ceiling to floor, and multiplying a hundred-fold the scenery of the room. The whole was brilliantly lighted up by a chandelier that hung from the centre of the ceiling.
In the midst of all this glitter of light and glow of color, in a luxurious chair, beside an elegant table, sat a lady, who, under any circumstances, or from any spectator, must at once have riveted the closest attention.
She was apparently about thirty-five years of age, of tall, justly-proportioned, stately figure, around which flowed the rich folds of a crimson velvet robe. Her features were of the purest classic type. Her complexion was deadly pale, in contrast with her large, dark eyes, jet-black eyebrows, and raven-black hair, that lay in heavy shining bands upon her marble cheeks.