"Josephina!"
The countess ran toward her, embracing her effusively, kissing her bright red, emaciated cheeks.
"How dark you were," continued Josephina with a smile that Renovales knew well.
Concha fairly stunned her with her flow of chatter. The illustrious master had refused to light up, he liked the twilight. An artist's whim! They had been talking about their dear Josephina, while she was waiting for her carriage to come. And as she said this, she kept kissing the little woman, drawing back a little to look at her better, repeating impetuously:
"My, how pretty you are to-day. You look better than you did three days ago."
Josephina continued to smile. She thanked her. Her carriage was waiting at the door. The servant had told her when she came downstairs, attracted by the distant sound of the organ.
The countess seemed to be in a hurry to leave. She suddenly remembered a host of things she had to do, she enumerated the people who were waiting for her at home. Josephina helped her to put on her hat and veil and even then the countess gave her several good-by kisses through the veil.
"Good-by, ma chère. Good-by, mignonne. Do you remember our school days? How happy we were there! Good-by, maître."
She stopped at the door to kiss Josephina once more.
And finally, before she disappeared, she exclaimed in the querulous tone of a victim who wants sympathy: