“Indeed, I don’t think at all about what he thinks,” said Mrs. Grace, tossing back her head, as she adjusted her dress at the glass; “and, if you think so much about it, you’d better lie down again.”
“Oh! I can’t lie down again,” said Favoretta; “I have got my shoes on—stay for me, Grace—I’m just ready.”
Grace, who was pleased with an opportunity of indulging this little girl, and who flattered herself that she should regain her former power over Favoretta’s undistinguishing affections, waited for her most willingly. Grace drank her late dish of tea in her mistress’s dressing-room, and did every thing in her power to humour “her sweet Favoretta.”
Mrs. Rebecca, Mrs. Fanshaw’s maid, was summoned; she lived in the next street. She was quite overjoyed, she said, at entering the room, to see Miss Favoretta—it was an age since she had a sight or a glimpse of her.
We pass over the edifying conversation of those two ladies—Miss Favoretta was kept awake, and in such high spirits by flattery, that she did not perceive how late it was—she begged to stay up a little longer, and a little longer.
Mrs. Rebecca joined in these entreaties, and Mrs. Grace could not refuse them; especially as she knew that the coach would not go for Mad. de Rosier till after her mistress’s return from the opera.
The coachman had made this arrangement for his own convenience, and had placed it entirely to the account of his horses.
Mrs. Grace depended, rather imprudently, upon the coachman’s arrangement; for Mad. de Rosier, finding that the coach did not call for her at the hour she had appointed, sent for a chair, and returned home, whilst Grace, Mrs. Rebecca, and Favoretta, were yet in Mrs. Harcourt’s dressing-room.
Favoretta was making a great noise, so that they did not hear the knock at the door.
One of the housemaids apprised Mrs. Grace of Mad. de Rosier’s arrival. “She’s getting out of her chair, Mrs. Grace, in the hall.”