"I do not know"—she said, hesitatingly—"But—once—here in this garden—we found a wonderful butterfly with white wings—all white,—and it was resting on a scarlet flower. We all went out to look at it, because it was unlike any other butterfly we had ever seen,—its wings were like velvet or swansdown. You remind me of that butterfly."
Morgana smiled.
"Did it fly away?"
"Oh, yes. Very soon! And an hour or so after it had flown, the scarlet flower where it had rested was dead."
"Most thrilling!" And Morgana gave a little yawn. "Is that breakfast? Yes? Stay with me while I have it! Are you the head chambermaid at the Plaza?"
Manella shrugged her shoulders.
"I do not know what I am! I do everything I am asked to do as well as I can."
"Obliging creature! And are you well paid?"
"As much as I want"—Manella answered, indifferently. "But there is no pleasure in the work."
"Is there pleasure in ANY work?"