And with a laugh, she lightly touched her maid's cheek.
Marie looked a little sullen.
'It seems that madame would like to live and die here.'
She had no sooner said the words than she could have bitten her tongue out. She was genuinely attached to her mistress; and she knew well that Eleanor was no malade imaginaire.
Eleanor's face changed a little.
'Oh! you foolish girl—we shall soon be gone. No, not that old frock. Look, please, at that head you've made me—and consider! Noblesse oblige.'
So presently, she stood before her table in a cream walking dress—perfect—but of the utmost simplicity; with her soft black hat tied round the ripples and clouds of her fair hair.
'How it hangs on me!' she said, gathering up the front of her dress in her delicate hand.
Marie made a little face of pity and concern.
'Mais oui, Madame. Il faudrait le cacher un peu.'