"We might as well get Fortune's things out of the way, too, Celeste."
"Yes, Madame."
"And bring my chocolate at half after eight in the morning. It is quite possible that we shall sail to-morrow night from Port Saïd. If not from there, from Alexandria. It all depends upon the booking, which can not be very heavy going west this time of year."
"As madame knows!" came from the depth of the cavernous trunk. Celeste was no longer surprised; at least she never evinced this emotion. For twelve years now she had gone from one end of the globe to the other, upon the shortest notice. While surprise was lost to her or under such control as to render it negligible, she still shivered with pleasurable excitement at the thought of entering a port. Madame was so clever, so transcendently clever! If she, Celeste, had not been loyal, she might have retired long ago, and owned a shop of her own in the busy Rue de Rivoli. But that would have meant a humdrum existence; and besides, she would have grown fat, which, of the seven horrors confronting woman, so madame said, was first in number.
"Be very careful how you handle that blue ball-gown."
"Oh, Madame!" reproachfully.
"It is the silver braid. Do not press the rosettes too harshly."
Celeste looked up. Mrs. Chedsoye answered her inquiring gaze with a thin smile.
"You are wonderful, Madame!"
"And so are you, Celeste, in your way."