“Yes, and nearly melted. Of course you were promoted to the north-west room next.”
Edna, who knew nothing of the gradation by which she had reached her present comfortable apartment, pleaded not guilty to the north-west room, whereat Maude professed to feeling terribly aggrieved at the partiality shown.
“It must be because you are a little dot,” she said; “and because—,” she hesitated a moment, and then added, softly, “because of your deep mourning and trouble. That always opens one’s heart. Mr. Overton told me all about you.”
Maude’s face was turned away from Edna, and so she did not see the violent start, as Edna asked:
“What did he tell you about me?”
“Oh, nothing improper,” and Maude put a part of her front hair in her mouth, while she twisted her back locks into a massive coil. “He said you had lost your father and mother, and that made me feel for you at once, for I am an orphan, too; he said, also, that since their death, you had had a hard time generally, and was obliged to teach school, every item of which will apply to me. I am a poor schoolma’am,—which, in New York society, don’t pass for much; and if Uncle Burton should close his doors upon me, I should have nowhere to lay my head, and so you see we ought to be friends. I wish you would hold that lock of hair, please; it bothers me to get the last new kink. Can you do it?”
She looked up suddenly at Edna, who was curiously studying this girl, who mixed things so indiscriminately, poverty, orphanage, friendlessness, and the last style of dressing the hair.
“I don’t try. I curl my hair, and that is all. I don’t know a thing about fashion,” she said, while Maude, who had succeeded in winding her satin braids, coil after coil, about her head, until the last one came almost to her forehead, replied, “Your curls are lovely. I would not meddle with them. Fashion is an exacting dame, but Aunt Burton and Georgie make such a fuss if I do not try to be decent.”
“Who is Georgie?” Edna asked, feeling guilty for the deception she was practising.
“Georgie is Aunt Burton’s adopted daughter and niece, while I am Uncle Burton’s relation, which makes a vast difference,” Maude replied. “She is a belle and a beauty, and an heiress, while I, as I told you, am poor, and a schoolma’am, and nobody but ‘that young girl who lives with Mrs. Burton.’”