It would be a terrible thing,
May--a devilish thing, to be guilty of _soul-murder_!"
"Terrible indeed. I cannot believe now that you would on any account
oppose Helen in the practice of her faith?"
"No, unless it makes her gloomy and moping. But here we are, do you
run up to her room. I will drive down to the post-office, and be back
in a quarter of an hour," said Mr. Jerrold, handing May out, and
opening the hall-door for her.
May ran through the gorgeous hall, and up the marble staircase, with
its statues and vases; but so intent was she on her errand of charity
that she noticed nothing of the rich splendors around her. She
encountered Elise at the head of the staircase.
"_Ou alles-vous, mademoiselle_?" she said, with an elegant courtesy.
"I am Mrs. Jerrold's cousin, and have come to see her. Show me her
room," said May, with an air of dignity.
"_Je vous demande pardon. Madame Jerrold est un peu indisposee.
Entrez!_" said Elise, throwing open Helen's door, without however,
making the least noise. And there, amidst her almost oriental
luxuries, she reclined; her heaped-up silken cushions--her _ormolu_
tables--her Eastern vases, filled with spices and rose-leaves, until
the air was heavy with fragrance--her rich and grotesque furniture--her
rose-colored draperies, through which the light flowed in softly and
radiantly--her jewels--her costly attire; amidst it all she
reclined--faded, conscience-stricken, and trembling.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200