This done, she sat down by a window to await and meet, with what fortitude she could command, the next act in the drama of her life.
Not long after she heard a step in the hall, then there came a knock on her door, and madam's voice called out:
"It is only I, Edith; may I come in?"
"Yes, come," unhesitatingly responded the girl, and Mrs. Goddard, her face beaming with smiles and good nature, entered the room.
"How do you like your new quarters, dear?" she inquired, searching Edith's fair face with eager eyes.
"Of course, everything is very beautiful," she returned, glancing admiringly around the apartment.
"And are you pleased with the additions to the furnishings?—the chair, the work-table, and writing-desk?"
"I have never seen anything more lovely," Edith replied, bending forward as if to examine more closely the filigree stamp box on the desk, but in reality to conceal the flush of scorn that leaped into her eyes.
"I knew you would like them," said madam, with a little note of triumph in her voice; "they are exquisite, and Emil is going to have them carefully packed, and take them along for you to use wherever you stop in your travels. And the cloak and dresses—aren't they perfectly elegant? The jewels, too, and other things in the dressing-case; have you seen them?"
"Yes, I have seen them all; but—but I am very sorry that so much money should have been spent for me," Edith faltered, a hot flush, which her companion interpreted as one of pleasure and gratified vanity, suffusing her cheeks.