Golden lifted her eyes and regarded her bravely.
"Well?" she said.
"She asked me," continued Celine, "if I had seen a young girl in New York of about sixteen, with large, blue eyes, and long, golden curls, dressed in a blue cashmere dress, and hat and jacket, I told her yes, for her description of the lady's appearance corresponded exactly with yours."
Golden remained perfectly silent, her eyes turned resolutely from Celine.
"She asked me," the maid continued, "if the young girl had found her mother."
Golden could not repress a sudden, violent start.
"Aha," cried Celine, quickly. "You see I am acquainted with your whole history!"
"You know nothing about me whatever, Celine," replied Golden, warmly, "and I cannot see by what right you pry into my affairs."
"Oh, well, if we are so hoity-toity, we can keep our secret," returned Celine, scornfully, "but somebody will find that it was better to have made a friend than an enemy of Celine Duval!"
With these ambiguous words, Celine bounced out of the room, leaving poor little Golden terribly frightened and distressed.