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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Yes; I'm just reading my chapter." "Livvy gone?" Livvy, or Miss Deliverance Jones, was the maid they had brought from America, a New York negress of the most faintly colored complexion, with hair mysteriously blond.
The singular blonde, with Nubian lip and Parisian hair, Miss Deliverance Jones, or, more commonly, Livvy, who spent this evening at the farther end of the box making her own reflections on the European doings of which she got glimpses, held up a white satin domino for her mistress's arms. Gerald precipitated himself, took it from the maid and held it in her place.
The single candle by which she had been reading showed the shining mirthfulness of the eyes with which the two regarded each other. "Wasn't it fun?" "Oh, wasn't it!" They spoke softly, whether because the suggestion of the late hour was upon them, or they thought, without thinking, that Livvy might still be near. They whispered like school-girls who have come together in forbidden fun.
"Talking about Gerald," Estelle came in quickly, glad of a change from the other subject, "did Livvy tell you that our cook met Giovanna at the market, and Giovanna told her that her master was doing finely; that he hadn't yet been out of doors, but that he sat at the open window in the sunshine? I'd been meaning to ask you." "Oh." Aurora quietly took it, and thought it over a minute.
"Yes, and along with the things, of course, the responsibility of settling up everything, dismissing the servants, sending Livvy back to New York. Such a job! Luckily, there's no hurry; the lease doesn't expire until October. When you came I'd been sort of looking round. I was just wondering what to do about this Fountain of Love. Nell paid a frightful lot for these four panels.
While he languidly ate, yet with pleasure, the door softly swung inward, revealing faces of women, Estelle, Clotilde, Livvy, Giovanna, all equally kind, all craning for the delight of a peep at him eating his soft-boiled egg.
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