“Those services may be made available this very evening,” said Laura, a voluptuous glow spreading over her fine countenance, while her eyes became soft and melting in expression. “You must aid me, Rosalie, in gratifying an ardent longing which has sprung up within my bosom during the last few minutes, and which I may vainly struggle to subdue. But the intrigue requires so much delicate management——”
“I can anticipate all you would say, mademoiselle,” interrupted Rosalie: then, in a significant tone, she added, “Captain Barthelma is decidedly one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life.”
“You have conjectured rightly,” said Laura; “you have penetrated my thoughts! Can you—will you serve me in the gratification of this caprice of mine? But, remember—I must not be compromised in respect to a living soul save Barthelma and yourself.”
“You know, mademoiselle, that you can trust to my fidelity, my sagacity, and my prudence,” said Rosalie. “At what hour shall the handsome Italian visit you?”
“At nine—this evening,” answered Laura: then referring to her watch, she added, “It is already six—and you have plenty of work upon your hands!”
“I will neglect nothing,” observed the lady’s-maid, in a tone of confidence. “Would it not be prudent to send the cook out of the way for the evening? For as the men-servants are on board-wages and sleep elsewhere, and the cook is therefore the only dependant who could possibly observe your proceedings, mademoiselle——”
“I leave all this to you, Rosalie,” interrupted Laura;—“and now we have nothing more to say to each other for the present. Order the dinner to be served up at once—and then must you hasten to fulfil the commissions with which you are charged.”
Having thus given her parting instructions, Laura repaired to the dining-room, where an elegant repast was speedily spread upon the table; and a glass of sparkling champagne soon enhanced the brilliancy of the voluptuous woman’s eyes, and heightened the rich glow that suffused her countenance.
When the meal was over, a choice dessert was served up; and Laura was now left alone.
She was almost sorry that she had gone so far in respect to the intrigue which was to bring the handsome Castelcicalan to her arms: she had admitted Rosalie too deeply into her confidence—placed herself too completely in the power of her dependant. Even while she was conversing with the wily Frenchwoman, she perceived and felt all this;—but her sensuality triumphed over her prudence—her lascivious temperament carried her on with a force which she could not resist, much less subdue.