bath is ready for Madame."

Drusilla wondered why she was expected to take another bath, as she
had had one the night before. But evidently it was expected of her,
and she went into the bathroom and again reveled in the warm,
perfumed water. When she returned to the bedroom her clothing of the
night before was arranged ready for her to put on, and as she dressed
she felt for the first time the coarseness of the linen and the
ugliness of the plain black dress.

"Would Madame like her breakfast here," the maid asked, "or will she
go to the breakfast room?"

Drusilla hesitated, as she did not know what to do.

"I think Madame would like to go to the breakfast room," the clever
little French woman said hastily; "it is very pretty there, with the
flowers and the birds. I will show Madame the way."

Going before her she guided Drusilla down the great staircase and
across a room that was evidently the dining-room, into what Drusilla
would have called a sun-parlor. It was a corner of the veranda
enclosed in glass and filled with flowers and plants of every
description, with birds singing among them in their gilded cages, and
from it the Hudson could be seen, flowing silently to the sea. In the
center of the room was a round table covered with a cloth which
quickly caught her eye and charmed it with its dainty embroidery and
lace, used as she had been to the coarse linen of the home. A man
drew out her chair and she was seated, a footstool found for her
feet, and breakfast was served. Drusilla felt that she could never