You
shall see."
I arose and followed her into the adjoining room, where she placed two
seats before a long mirror that reached nearly to the floor. Mine was
a low footstool, and hers a padded chair. I threw myself down at her
feet, and drawing out my hairpins gave myself up entirely to the
gratification of her latest caprice.
Very soon her old humor broke out in merry little peals of laughter,
as she turned me into a Japanese or Feejee Islander, by appropriate
arrangements of my plentiful hair; or her old partiality asserted
itself as she praised my flowing tresses and made me assume attitudes
that were peculiar to the representation of Faith or Undine.
"Oh! now you look like pictures of Mary Magdalene!" she exclaimed
suddenly, as I stooped to pick something off the floor. "Stay that way
just for a moment. I hear _la bonne_ coming and I want her to see you.
Here she is." There was a hurried tap at the door and _la bonne_ came
in, with a face so full of purpose that we forgot our fanciful
amusement. She advanced towards me with a little folded paper which
she held out saying
"Mademoiselle, c'est un telegram!"
It was probably from Mde de Beaumont, I thought, announcing her
return, and quietly signing the necessary paper, I tore open the
sealed message and read it.
The room began to turn about me. The words grew blurred before my eyes
I raised my hands in distraction to my head and fell sobbing on
Hortense's knees.
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