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"Céline Leroque, madame!" with an imitation of the ladies' maid accent. Cora fell back in her chair panting. "Now," resumed Madeline, "why don't you reflect that, if it were my intention to denounce you, I could have done that long ago. Are you not aware that my step-father is my enemy?" "Not in that way." "In that way precisely. John Arthur tortured my mother until she died heart-broken.
Then Céline detailed, in her own way, her interview with her mistress on the subject of Mr. Percy's visit. Cora was at last fully satisfied that, for some reason, Miss Arthur had aroused a feeling of antagonism in the breast of her maid. She resolved to profit by this state of affairs. Accordingly, a few moments later, Céline Leroque flitted out from the house the bearer of two important messages.
Thus she sailed forward to meet Mr. Percy. Céline departed, smiling an odd little smile. She went to her own room and sitting down upon the bedside, meditated. Presently she arose, and walking over to her mirror, gazed at her reflected image, and shaking her head at it, murmured: "What a nice little maid you are, Céline Leroque and how these people will love you by and by!
By which words, a listener might have been led to suppose that Céline Leroque had been practising deception upon some confiding individual. Claire had been absent all the morning, had gone to make some call; at least she had said to Olive, at breakfast, "I think I will take the ponies, Olive, and drive into the city this morning.
But Céline Leroque did not walk on. She dropped her package and, stooping to recover it, cast a swift glance after the pair. They were sauntering slowly down the hedgerow walk, their backs toward her.
When night came on, he sank into a heavy slumber. At twelve o'clock that night, all was quiet in and about the manor. Cora Arthur was sleeping soundly, dreamlessly, as such women do sleep. In the room adjoining hers, Céline Leroque sat, broad awake and listening intently. At last, satisfied that her mistress was sleeping, Céline arose and stole softly into the room where she lay.
What could be more natural than that I should desire you to have every care and comfort that I can desire? I shall give you my maid; she will supply the place of Céline Leroque." "I won't have her," cried Cora, angrily. "I won't have a jailer." "Certainly not; you will have my maid, however. I will get another to-morrow." "I won't have her!" "Nonsense."
Whereupon she was much astonished, and ventilated her opinions of French folk in general, and that one in particular. Through Hagar, the other servants, now few in number, were informed of the defalcation, and the extent of damage done by Miss Céline Leroque. Then the kitchen cabinet held a session forthwith, and settled the fate of their departed contemporary, being ably assisted by Hagar.
When she had settled herself to her satisfaction, Mr. Davlin opened the door, admitting Céline Leroque. "Monsieur Percy is below, madame," said the girl, glancing sharply at the form in the darkened corner. "Come and draw these coverings over me, Céline, and then go and bring him up," replied Cora. Then she glanced at Lucian, who said, carelessly: "Well, my dear, I will go down to the library."
Céline Leroque opened her door cautiously, having first donned her not very becoming walking attire. Then she took up her position just outside the angle of the western hall, and so close to it that if an approach was made from below, she could easily retire behind the angle. She had grown heartily tired of her sentinel task when, at last, a soft rustle was heard near at hand.
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