Staring at her soot-covered palms, she sobs with quiet dignity, secretly hoping that the master's son will notice her some day. Her mousy, limp hair falls like a screen, hiding her face from the other maids' inquisitive eyes, and her unpainted, full lips grimace in a sigh of ache.
She'd do anything for Mr. Chance to look at her and smile the way he did when Ms. Elaine was around. She had been living in the household for over two years and all she had ever wanted was for Mr. Chance to see her for who she was, a funny, witty, charming lady. But maybe all these qualities were mirages, which appeared only to her.
Her narrow shoulders shudder with her sobs, growing louder by the minute, as she crouches near the fireplace in the kitchen, and thinks about the debacle that is her life.
She has destroyed any hope for a life with Mr. Chance. She had walked into his room, and seeing him with Ms. Elaine, she had yelled at both of them and ran out the door. Her humiliation stains her pale cheeks as her nose begins to snivel.
There would be no happy ending for her. Ever.