And then she went to the bedside and drew back the curtains and looked upon the face of the sleeper. Such a pale, sad, worn-looking face! with the full lips closed, the long black lashes lying on the waxen cheeks, the slender black brows slightly contracted, and the long purplish black hair flowing down each side and resting upon the swelling bosom; her arms were thrown up over the pillow, and her hands clasped over her head. This attitude added to the utter sadness and weariness of her aspect.
Phœbe slowly shook her head, murmuring:
"I can't think why a lady having beauty and wealth and rank should break her heart about any scamp of a man! Why couldn't she have purchased an estate with her money and settled down in Old England? And if she must have married, why didn't she marry the marquis? Lack-a-daisy-me! I wish she had never seen this young scamp! She didn't sleep the whole night! I know it was after four o'clock in the morning that I dropped off, and the last thing I knew was trying to keep awake and listen to her tossing! Well, whatever her appointment was this morning, she has missed it by a good hour and a half; that she has, and I'm glad of it. Sleep is the best part of life, and there isn't anything in this world worth waking up for, as I've found out yet! Let her sleep on; she's dead for it, anyway. So let her sleep on, and I'll take the blame."
And with this the judicious Phœbe carefully drew the bed curtains again, closed the window shutters, and withdrew to her own room to complete her toilet.
After a little while Phœbe went below to get her breakfast, which she always took in the housekeeper's room.
Mrs. Spicer had breakfasted long before, and so she met the girl with a sharp rebuke for keeping late hours.
"Pray," she inquired mockingly, "is it the fashion in the country you came from for servants to be abed until ten o'clock in the morning?"
"That depends on circumstances," answered Phœbe, with assumed gravity; "the servants of noble families like the Countess of Hurstmonceux's lie late; but the servants of common folks like yours have to get up early."
"Like ours, you impudent minx! I'll have you to know that our family—the Brudenells—are as good as any other family in the world! But it is not the custom here for the maids to lie in bed until all hours of the morning, and that you'll find!" cried Mrs. Spicer in a passion.
"You'll find yourself discharged if you go on in this way! You seem to forget that my lady is the mistress of this house," said Phœbe, seating herself at the table, which was covered with the litter of the housekeeper's breakfast.