She closed the stove door with a bang, and approaching, assisted in

removing Edna's dripping mackintosh.

"You are cold; you look miserable. The chocolate will soon be hot. But

would you rather have a taste of brandy? I have scarcely touched the

bottle which you brought me for my cold." A piece of red flannel was

wrapped around Mademoiselle's throat; a stiff neck compelled her to hold

her head on one side.

"I will take some brandy," said Edna, shivering as she removed her

gloves and overshoes. She drank the liquor from the glass as a man would

have done. Then flinging herself upon the uncomfortable sofa she said,

"Mademoiselle, I am going to move away from my house on Esplanade

Street."

"Ah!" ejaculated the musician, neither surprised nor especially

interested. Nothing ever seemed to astonish her very much. She was

endeavoring to adjust the bunch of violets which had become loose from

its fastening in her hair. Edna drew her down upon the sofa, and taking

a pin from her own hair, secured the shabby artificial flowers in their

accustomed place.

"Aren't you astonished?"

"Passably. Where are you going? to New York? to Iberville? to your

father in Mississippi? where?"

"Just two steps away," laughed Edna, "in a little four-room house around

the corner. It looks so cozy, so inviting and restful, whenever I pass

by; and it's for rent. I'm tired looking after that big house. It never

seemed like mine, anyway--like home. It's too much trouble. I have to

keep too many servants. I am tired bothering with them."

"That is not your true reason, ma belle. There is no use in telling me

lies. I don't know your reason, but you have not told me the truth."

Edna did not protest or endeavor to justify herself.

"The house, the money that provides for it, are not mine. Isn't that

enough reason?"

"They are your husband's," returned Mademoiselle, with a shrug and a

malicious elevation of the eyebrows.

"Oh! I see there is no deceiving you. Then let me tell you: It is a

caprice. I have a little money of my own from my mother's estate, which

my father sends me by driblets. I won a large sum this winter on the

races, and I am beginning to sell my sketches. Laidpore is more and more

pleased with my work; he says it grows in force and individuality. I

cannot judge of that myself, but I feel that I have gained in ease

and confidence. However, as I said, I have sold a good many through

Laidpore. I can live in the tiny house for little or nothing, with one

servant. Old Celestine, who works occasionally for me, says she will

come stay with me and do my work. I know I shall like it, like the

feeling of freedom and independence."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024