“No, Madame; and I may as well work late here as there.”
The Madame thanked her, and left the room with a mental resolve that the girl should not lose by her willingness to oblige.
“I’m worn out, Mary,” she said to her maid, who was bestowing in a closet in the dressing-room the numerous parcels which she and Rory had just brought upstairs; “change my dress for a wrapper, and I’ll lie down and take a nap while you and Katty help with the dress. You’re not too tired, I suppose?”
“No, of course not; it isn’t my place ever to be too tired for anything you wish done,” grumbled Mary, putting the last package upon the closet shelf and closing the door with a little more force than was necessary.
Then half ashamed of her petulance, in view of the generous way in which her mistress had just been laying out money in gifts for herself and her brother, “I’ll do my best, Madame,” she added in a pleasant tone, “but I hope you’ll take a light supper to-night for your own sake as well as mine.”
“I’m quite as anxious to rest well at night as you can be to have me, Mary,” returned the Madame in an injured tone, as she sat down and began herself to unfasten and remove her outer wrappings.
“Yes, I suppose so, Madame, and you must excuse my free speaking,” responded Mary, coming to her assistance.
The Madame’s enormous weight made her a burden to herself, and the unwonted exertion of the day had wearied her greatly. Comfortably established on a couch in her bedroom, she presently fell into a sleep so profound that she was not disturbed when her maid stole softly in at nightfall, drew the curtains, lighted the gas, and retired again.
But a moment later the Madame awoke with a low cry, and starting to a sitting posture, rubbed her eyes and glanced hurriedly about the room.