Dragon's Teeth by Eça de Queirós

AS soon as Luiza began to go out regularly every day, Juliana said to herself, --

"Good; now I am certain, when she goes out, that it is to meet that coxcomb."

And her attitude towards her mistress became more servile than ever. She ran joyfully, with an obsequious smile upon her lips, to open the door for Luiza when she returned home at five o'clock. And what zeal in her service! What exactitude! If a button were wanting in a garment, if a bill had been mislaid, it was, "A thousand pardons, Senhora; forgive me this once," followed by the humblest lamentations. She interested herself, with real devotion, in the matter of Luiza's health, of her clothing, of what she ought to eat. Since her mistress had begun to go out daily, Juliana's work had increased; she was obliged to iron every day; she was often obliged to wash stockings and cuffs till eleven o'clock at night, or even later.

At six o'clock in the morning, and sometimes still earlier, she was already with the smoothing-iron in her hand. Yet she did not complain. On the contrary, she would say to Joanna, when washing or ironing, --

"It is a pleasure to look at so elegant a lady. Will you believe me, -- I can almost say that this gives me pleasure? And then, thank God! I have good health now, and work has never frightened me."

She no longer criticised her mistress; she affirmed repeatedly, --

"The senhora is a saint. I have never seen any one better."

Her countenance lost something of its bilious hue, and of its bitter contraction.

At times at dinner, or sewing in the evening, by the light of the kerosene lamp, a sudden smile would cross her face, and her glance would kindle with a genial light.

"The Senhora Juliana seems to be thinking of something pleasant," Joanna would say to her.

"The procession is going on inside, Senhora Joanna," she would answer, with an air of satisfaction.

To such a degree was her envious nature apparently changed, that she even spoke with indifference of a silk gown which the professor's Gertrudes had worn for the first time on a certain holiday in September. All she said was, --

"The day will come when I too shall be able to wear silk gowns, and fine ones, -- gowns made by a dressmaker."

And by other words like these she betrayed her hopes in a time that was drawing near. Joanna went so far as to say to her, --

"Does the Senhora Juliana, then, expect a legacy?"

"Perhaps," she answered dryly.

And, notwithstanding, she detested Luiza more and more every day. When she saw her in the morning adorning herself, perfuming herself with Cologne-water, looking at herself in the mirror, going about singing, she would leave the room, for she was seized with a fit of hatred, and she feared to betray herself. She hated her for her dresses, for her fine linen, on account of the man she went to meet, on account of all her comforts and pleasures. When Luiza left the house she would stand at the window gazing after her as she walked up the street, exclaiming, --

"Amuse yourself, wanton, amuse yourself! My day, too, will surely come!"

Luiza did, in fact, amuse herself. She went out every day at two in the afternoon. The neighbors would say to one another, as they watched her, --

"The engineer's wife has her S. Miguel now."