She was not buried at all, as I happen to know.
But when did you discover that she had the plague, and how could
she possibly have caught it?"
"That I do not know, madam. She seemed well enough all day,
though not in such high spirits as a bride should be. Toward
evening die complained of a headache and a feeling of faintness;
but I thought nothing of it, and helped her to dress for the
bridal. Before it was over, the headache and faintness grew
worse, and I gave her wine, and still suspected nothing. The
last time I came in, she had grown so much worse, that
notwithstanding her wedding dress, she had lain down on her bed,
looking for all the world like a ghost, and told me she had the
most dreadful burning pain in her chest. Then, madame, the
horrid truth struck me - I tore down her dress, and there, sure
enough, was the awful mark of the distemper. `You have the
plague!' I shrieked; and then I fled down stairs and out of the
house, like one crazy. O madame, madame! I shall never forget
it - it was terrible! I shall never forget it! Poor, poor child;
and the count does not know a word of it!"
La Masque laughed - a sweet, clear, deriding laugh, "So the count
does not know it, Prudence? Poor man! he will be in despair when
he finds it out, won't he? Such an ardent and devoted lover as
he was you know!"
Prudence looked up a little puzzled.
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