"Phoebe, mind that you are not to say one word to any human being of
the subject of our conversation to-night. But you are to call me at
eight o'clock, have my breakfast brought to me here at half-past eight,
and the carriage at the door at nine. Do you hear?"

"Yes, my lady," answered the girl, who immediately went to the small
room adjoining her mistress' chamber, where she usually sat by day and
slept by night.

The countess could only sleep in perfect darkness; so when Phoebe had
put out all the lights she took advantage of that darkness to leave her
door open, so that she could listen if her mistress was restless or
wakeful. The maid soon discovered that her mistress was wakeful and
restless.

The countess could not sleep for contemplating her project of the
morning. According to her Jewish ideas, the motherless son of her
husband was as much hers as though she had brought him into the world.
And thus she, poor, unloved and childless wife, was delighted with the
son that she thought had dropped from heaven into her arms.

That anyone should venture to raise the slightest objection to her
taking possession of her own son never entered the mind of Berenice. She
imagined that even Mrs. Brudenell, who had treated the mother with the
utmost scorn and contumely, must turn to the son with satisfaction and
desire.

In cautioning Phoebe to secrecy she had not done so in dread of
opposition from any quarter, but with the design of giving Mrs.
Brudenell a pleasant surprise.