By common consent, the body of Gifford Bruce was laid in the drawing room, on a large sofa, and Vernie’s slender figure was reverently placed on the bed in the Room with the Tassels.
“No spirit shape can frighten her now,” said Norma, weeping bitterly, as Thorpe and Hester carried the dead girl in. Then both doors were closed, shutting off the silent figures, and those who were left felt a vague sense of relief.
“Now we can break it to Milly more gently,” said Eve. “Clear away that broken cup, Hester, and make some fresh tea, I’m sure we all need it.”
On the great rug the damp spot remained where the spilled tea had fallen, and Eve ordered a smaller rug placed over it.
Braye and Milly came in laughing.
“We’ve bought out the whole of East Dryden!” Milly exclaimed, “and what do you think? We found some fresh lobsters, still alive and kicking,—and we commandeered them at once. What’s the matter with you people? You look solemn as owls!”
“Come up to your room, Milly, to take off your wraps,” and Landon took her arm to lead her away.
“Nonsense, Wynne, I’ll throw them off down here. I’m thirsty for tea.”
“No; come on, dear. Come with me.”
Awed at his tone, Milly went with him, and they disappeared up the staircase.