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."