"Hipple, Hipple!" said Lady Rose, under her breath. "Do wake up."
The thin little shadow of a woman opened two black eyes, and thrust up her shoulders with a sleepy protest.
"Mrs. Hipple, Hipple! always Mrs. Hipple, sleeping or waking. Well, what is it now, my lady?"
"Get up, that is a good soul. I know that you have been kept out of your bed, cruelly, but I want you so much."
"Well, well, lady-bird, what is it all about? Of course, you want me. That is what you always were doing as a child. Oh, well, one is something older now, and that makes a difference."
While the sleepy woman was uttering this half-protest, Lady Rose was arranging the cap, that had been crushed on one side as she slept, and gently shaking off the sleep which threatened to renew itself in soft grumbles.
"There, now, everything is set to rights, and you look wide awake."
"Of course, I am wide awake; I, who never sleep, though you dance away the hours till morning," answered the little lady, testily.
"But I have not been dancing to-night, Hipple; far from it. Something dreadful has happened."
"Dreadful! Lady Rose, do speak out. My heart is rising into my mouth."