“Now, did ever any soul hear the like of that?” exclaimed Mrs. Downie. “If that doesn’t cap all the whims I ever heard of in all the days of my life! But I oughtn’t to say anything agin’ her, I oughtn’t indeed, for she’s a mighty good lady and a charitable one, and she give me such a heap of money for the poor street children.”
Lilith saw no more of Madame Von Bruyin until Saturday morning, when the baroness called in her carriage to pick up her companion on her way to the steamer.
Madame got out of her coach and went into the house for the purpose of bidding good-bye to Mrs. Downie, whom she found crying over Lilith.
“You’ll be good to the child, madame! I know you will be good to her! I believe, I hope, I trust you will,” said Aunt Sophie, a little inconsistently, as, after reiterated leave-taking, she resigned Lilith into the charge of the baroness.
“Have no fear. She shall be happy, if I can make her so,” said the lady. And then, with a sudden impulse of kindness, she added the question:
“Would you not like to go down to the ship and see us off? Come with us—do! And the same carriage can bring you back to your own door.”
“Oh, thank you, yes. Indeed, indeed, I would. And I won’t be a minute in getting on my things,” said the grateful old lady, as she hurried from the room.
In a very few moments she reappeared with her mashed black silk bonnet, rusty black Canton crape shawl, and thread gloves.
The three went out to the carriage, in which the old Frenchman had remained seated. When they appeared he got out, politely saluted the party, handed them into their seats, and then followed them.
The four persons just comfortably filled the carriage. Madame’s maid and footman followed in another carriage, having charge of their lady’s lighter luggage.