Page:The Father Confessor, Stories of Danger and Death.djvu/381

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.
THE JEALOUSY OF BEATRIX
371

was so near seemed enough joy in the wide world. When he had gone she flew to her room. Had he been to seek her, or had he not? Still her heart was light that he had left that woman even for the moment. She lit a candle and looked at herself in the glass. The pretty picture did not please her. She opened a wardrobe and drew out a blue robe that it held; she hesitated, then threw it back. No, she dare not change now, every one would notice and guess what she was dressing for. Yet why had she put on that pink dress she now wore, to have it killed by the deeper rose of her rival's gown? She drew her hair more softly about her face and left the room. At the top of the stairs she listened for a while, then, hearing nothing, she tip-toed into the visitor's room. With candle in hand she stole like a thief to the dressing-table. There she lifted a powder-puff and passed it over her face. The effect pleased her, and she followed it by adding a faint rouge to her already burning cheeks.

"I will use your weapons," she said smiling, and left the room. When she entered the drawing-room she took a seat beside her rival as one who would say: "I am a worthy antagonist.