“You wait until you see him,” said Mr. Mechlin, going into his room to get ready for dinner.
If Mercedes' hands had not trembled so much she would have been ready to come down stairs much sooner.
“If you had accepted aunt's offer to get you a maid you would not labor under so many difficulties,” said Elvira, coming into Mercedes' room as she was going down stairs. “You have never dressed yourself without some one to help you at home, whether it was my squaw, your squaw, or mamma's, or the other girls, or whether it was your own Madame Halier—you always had an attendant.”
“That is so,” Mercedes said, ready to cry. “I am so utterly useless when—when—sometimes—but how could I accept a maid? It would have been an extravagance after the many dresses and other things bought for me. I couldn't.”
“I wish I had thought of sending my maid to help you,” said Elvira, coming to Mercedes' assistance.
“I wish so, too, now; but I didn't think I wanted her, as Mrs. Mechlin's maid had dressed my hair. What I dread is that your aunt will be present when I meet him, and—and as she don't like him—”
“Nonsense. She likes Bob Gunther, that's all. But she will not go down before we do if she knows Clarence is here. She will give you time to meet him first.”
With Elvira's assistance Mercedes at last was ready, and with trembling knees, which scarcely supported her light weight, she managed to walk down stairs.
“Don't run so fast, dear. I want you by me,” said she.
“Take my arm, old lady,” said Elvira, laughing.