The countess smiled faintly and kept silence. But--she kept her
resolution also.
The last words that night spoken after she was in bed, and when she was
about to dismiss her maid, were these: "Phoebe, mind that you are not to say one word to any human being of
the subject of our conversation to-night. But you are to call me at
eight o'clock, have my breakfast brought to me here at half-past eight,
and the carriage at the door at nine. Do you hear?"
"Yes, my lady," answered the girl, who immediately went to the small
room adjoining her mistress' chamber, where she usually sat by day and
slept by night.
The countess could only sleep in perfect darkness; so when Phoebe had
put out all the lights she took advantage of that darkness to leave her
door open, so that she could listen if her mistress was restless or
wakeful. The maid soon discovered that her mistress was wakeful and
restless.
The countess could not sleep for contemplating her project of the
morning. According to her Jewish ideas, the motherless son of her
husband was as much hers as though she had brought him into the world.
And thus she, poor, unloved and childless wife, was delighted with the
son that she thought had dropped from heaven into her arms.
That anyone should venture to raise the slightest objection to her
taking possession of her own son never entered the mind of Berenice. She
imagined that even Mrs. Brudenell, who had treated the mother with the
utmost scorn and contumely, must turn to the son with satisfaction and
desire.
In cautioning Phoebe to secrecy she had not done so in dread of
opposition from any quarter, but with the design of giving Mrs.
Brudenell a pleasant surprise.
She intended to go out in the morning as if for a drive, to go to the
hut, take possession of the boy, bring him home and lay him in his
grandmother's lap. And she anticipated for her reward her child's
affection, her husband's love, and her mother's cordial approval.
Full of excitement from these thoughts, Berenice could not sleep; but
tossed from side to side in her bed like one suffering from pain or
fever.
Her faithful attendant, who had loved her mistress well enough to leave
home and country and follow her across the seas to the Western World,
lay awake anxiously listening to her restless motions until near
morning, when, overcome by watching, she fell asleep.
The maid, who had been the first to close her eyes, was the first to
open them. Remembering her mistress' order to be called at eight
o'clock, she sprang out of bed and looked at her watch. To her
consternation she found that it was half-past nine.