“Your coffee, milady,” said the maid.
The Countess did not reply. But although the curtains were closed, her handsome young face could be dimly discerned on the white pillow. The maid, standing tray in hand at the foot of the bed, repeated more loudly:
“Your coffee, milady.”
The Countess sat up, while she yawned, with eyes still unopened, “Let in some light.”
Her maid went to the window without putting down the tray, and, in turning the handle of the shutters, managed to knock over the empty cup on its saucer.
“Keep quiet!” whispered the mistress in a tone of irritation. “What is the matter with you this morning? Don’t you see you are waking the baby?”
And as a matter of fact the infant was now awake and crying in its crib. The lady turned toward the child’s bed, and peremptorily called out “Hush!”
This silenced her offspring at once, excepting for a few faint moans.
“Now, then, I will have my coffee,” commanded the Countess. “Have you seen your master yet? Why, you are trembling all over! What is the matter with you?”
What, indeed, ailed the girl? Cup, saucer, sugar-bowl and coffee-pot were rattling on the tray. “What is it?” repeated the Countess.