One evening it happened that Aunt Sophie had gone to a protracted meeting at her church, and Lilith availed herself of that opportunity to go and see the baroness.
It was the first occasion on which she had ever ventured to call on that lady in the evening.
She found Madame Von Bruyin alone in her apartments, more lonely and depressed than usual, and more than ever pleased to see her unexpected but most welcome visitor.
She received Lilith with a warm embrace, and made her lay aside her bonnet and mantle, and sit down in the most comfortable chair in that luxurious room.
The gas had been turned down low, so that the whole room was in a subdued cathedral light very favorable for meditation or for confidential conversation.
How it was that Madame Von Bruyin glided into speaking of her own life neither she nor her companion ever knew.
It was in answer to some remark of Lilith’s, however, that the baroness answered:
“Yes, I know. Of course there are many people who envy me, and I suppose that I may be considered in a very enviable position; but that is only the external view. Within myself I am not enviable. There are few women in this world less happy than I am.”
“I am very sorry,” said Lilith, in true sympathy. But she was much too modest to preach to this great lady, this spoiled beauty, and to tell her of the vast power her wealth furnished of doing good and finding her happiness in the happiness of others.
“Child!” continued the baroness, “the truth is that I do not know what to do with my life. If I were not in deep mourning I should take a plunge into society and in its maddest excitements forget myself. But as I cannot do that, I go to Europe, to make a tour of the continent. But I ask myself, to what purpose? I have seen it all before. It will have no novelty for me.”