“Oh, indeed, I have hours to myself—hours! I am killed with ennui in this quiet house. It would be a charity to give me occupation. It is still quite early; if Mademoiselle would put the dress on now, for one little minute, I could then see what is required, and put in a stitch here and there.”
Mildred unfastened her dress with mechanical fingers. She was bewildered by this sudden display of amiability on the part of Lady Sarah’s maid, and filled with remorse for her former misjudgments. She had taken a dislike to Cécile from the moment when they had first met in the corridor and the Frenchwoman’s sharp eye had scanned her from head to foot, as if taking in every detail of her attire and appraising its value. Once or twice, moreover, upon entering Bertha’s room unexpectedly, she had discovered Cécile turning over the ornaments upon the dressing-table, and had not felt altogether inclined to believe the explanation that she was looking to see if there was anything she could do for mademoiselle; yet if Cécile were now so anxious to serve herself, why should she not have been equally well-disposed to Bertha?
Mildred argued out this question with herself as she stood before the glass while Cécile’s clever fingers busied themselves about her dress, putting in a pin here, a pin there, achieving thereby an improvement which seemed almost miraculous in the girl’s unsophisticated eyes.
While she worked Cécile kept up a string of flattering remarks.
“I must fasten the hair up for a moment to see the back. Ah, the beautiful hair! what a coiffure it will make some day! See how it goes itself into a coronet like a queen’s! It is easy to fit a dress when one has the perfect model. You have the back like an arrow, Mademoiselle. Most young ladies get into the bad habits at school, and bend their shoulders like old women, but you are not so. There are many princesses who would give thousands of pounds to have a figure like yours.”
“They must be very silly princesses, then,” said Mildred brusquely. How was it that she could not get over her dislike to Cécile—that the touch of her thin fingers, the sight of her face in the glass brought with them a shiver of repulsion? Cécile had nothing to gain by spending time on the renewal of a school-girl’s frock, and could therefore only be actuated by kindness. If it had been anyone else who had done her such a service Mildred would have been overflowing with thanks, but for some mysterious reason her heart seemed closed against Lady Sarah’s maid. All the same she was annoyed at herself for such ingratitude, and made a gallant effort to carry on a friendly conversation.
“Have you been maid to many other ladies, Cécile, before coming to Lady Sarah? You have been with her only a short time, I think.” Cécile sighed lugubriously.
“Three months, Mademoiselle. Oh, such long, slow months! Never before have I known the time so long. Before then I was with two beautiful young ladies in London. They went out every night—to two or three balls very often,—and always they were the most admired among the guests. Miss Adeline married an officer and went to India. She was like you, Mademoiselle—the same hair, the same eyes—you might be her sister. She would that I should go to India too. ‘Oh, Cécile!’ she say, ‘what shall I do without you? No one shall ever suit me as you have done.’ But I dare not risk the journey, the heat, the fatigue. Then Miss Edith shared the same maid with her mama, and I came to my lady here. Ah, what a difference! The house of Madame, it is like a grave—no life, no sun. With my young ladies it was all excitement from morning till night—luncheon parties, afternoon parties, evening parties, one thing after another, and no time to feel triste, but now all is changed. We drive in a closed carriage for amusement, and go to bed at ten o’clock, just when my ladies were dressing for their balls, and the evening should begin.”
“Well, but, Cécile, I should think you would like it better,” said Mildred guilelessly, “because if they did not come home until two or three in the morning it must have been terribly tiring sitting up for so long, and very bad for your health. Now you can go to bed at eleven and have nothing to disturb you until the next morning.”
Cécile lifted her head from her work and darted a keen glance at the girl’s face. Her eyes were small and light, and it seemed to Mildred as if at this moment there was something unpleasantly cunning in their expression, but perhaps it was only the result of the strong light which fell upon her through the open window.