She was interrupted in her passionate vehemence of self-reproaches and lamentations by the sound of light footsteps and cheerful voices approaching her door, and finally by a rapping at the same.
She arose, composed herself as well as she could and went and opened to Mrs. Brent and Philippa, who had come to bid her good-night, and to ask if she would need anything more before they should retire to bed.
Gloria thanked them and said that she would require nothing.
“And if you should, you have only to knock on the door between us to let me know, for you see our room is just back of yours here,” added the housekeeper.
“I will remember,” replied Gloria, in a low tone.
“I suppose Mr. Lindsay will not want anything. I reckon he’ll be up before long. I left him sitting before the big parlor fire,” remarked Mrs. Brent.
“I dare say,” answered Gloria, so wearily that the housekeeper bade her good-night and retired, followed by Philippa, who, since their fearful adventure in the cavern under the cellar, had been strangely silent and reserved.
Gloria locked her door leading into the hall and bolted the one leading into the rear room occupied by the housekeeper.
Then she replenished her fire from a box of wood that sat on one side of the hearth, and also threw on a number of resinous pine knots and cones, that their bright blaze might light up the large, gloomy chamber.
Having done this, she proceeded to examine her room more carefully than she had yet done.