“Well, then, Nina, if that is so—for I did not know but that you had woke up and found yourself here, like ourselves—please tell me where we are, for I believe my head is nearly turned with so much beauty and elegance.”
“I am happy to know that mademoiselle is pleased with her apartments,” returned Nina, evading Dora’s query.
“Apartments? Is there more than one?” questioned Dora, in surprise.
The girl stepped hastily forward, and seizing a heavy tassel, gave it a vigorous pull, and instantly two huge curtains slid apart, disclosing an elegant boudoir.
“See!” she said. “This is for your accommodation, too.”
“Oh-o-oh! Auntie, do come and see!” exclaimed the gratified girl, with a radiant face. Her features clouded again instantly, as she said: “But you have not yet answered my question; you have not told me where I am.”
She tapped her foot impatiently, while she went on:
“It is all very nice to have these beautiful things at my command. But I want to know whose hospitality I am enjoying, all unasked. We were not in this place last night. Whose residence is this?”
There was no retreat. The little maiden’s tone was very imperative, and there was an indignant sparkle in her blue eyes.
“You are in the palace of his lordship, the Baron Weichel,” answered Nina, dropping her eyes, while a guilty flush mounted to her brow, beneath the penetrating gaze of Miss Dupont.