But she really looked a very alert, wide-awake young lady as she divested herself of the dark green travelling dress and slipped into the luxurious lounging robe Mademoiselle Louise held ready.
Her brows were bent in a frown of perplexity very different from the gay smile with which she had parted from her hostess. She glanced at her attendant and read there anxiety, even distress.
“Courage, Louise,” she said, cheerily; “all is not lost that’s in danger. Horrors! What a long face! Look at yourself in the mirror. I have not seen such a mournful countenance since the taking of New Orleans.”
“And it was not your mirror showed a mournful countenance that day, Marquise,” returned the other. “I am glad some one can laugh; but for me, I feel more like crying, and that’s the truth. Heavens! How long that time seemed until you came.”
“I know,” and the glance of her mistress was very kind. “I could feel that you were walking the floor and waiting, but it was not possible to get away sooner. Get the other brush, child; there are wrinkles in my head as well as my hair this evening; you must help me to smooth them.”
But the maid was not to be comforted by even that suggestion, though she brushed the wavy, dusky mane with loving hands––one could not but read tenderness in every touch she gave the shining tresses. But her sighs were frequent for all that.
“Me of help?” she said, hopelessly. “I tell you true, Marquise, I am no use to anybody, I’m that nervous. I was 191 afraid of this journey all the time. I told you so before you left Mobile; you only laughed at my superstitious fears, and now, even before we reach the place, you see what happened.”
“I see,” asserted the Marquise, smiling at her, teasingly, “but then the reasons you gave were ridiculous, Louise; you had dreams, and a coffin in a teacup. Come, come; it is not so bad as you fear, despite the prophetic tea grounds; there is always a way out if you look for paths; so we will look.”
“It is all well for you, Marquise, to scoff at the omens; you are too learned to believe in them; but it is in our blood, perhaps, and it’s no use us fighting against presentiments, for they’re stronger than we are. I had no heart to get ready for the journey––not a bit. We are cut off from the world, and even suppose you could accomplish anything here, it will be more difficult than in the cities, and the danger so much greater.”
“Then the excitement will provide an attraction, child, and the late weeks have really been very dull.”