“Well, I suppose I should have slept quietly enough too, if it hadn’t been for Philly! She kept jumping and starting, and talking, and crying out the live-long night,” said the housekeeper.
Gloria looked at her young companion and saw that she was pale and anxious, yet Gloria did not dare to ask the reason, lest “Philly” should blurt out something about the ghastly apparition that had appalled them in the cavern.
But Philippa spoke for herself.
“It was too much supper and the nightmare,” she explained, with serio-comic gravity.
As soon as breakfast was over, Gloria left the table and retreated into the big parlor, followed by David Lindsay.
Gloria had unpacked some materials for the silk embroidery which she liked so well to do. Now she had brought some down to the parlor with her, and she sat down and began to arrange it for work.
“If I were not still so extremely tired with my week’s rumbling over rough roads, I should like to go out to-day and explore some of this magnificent mountain scenery,” she said, as she threaded her needle.
“What? In paths covered deep in snow and ice?” queried David Lindsay, as he stood on the hearth with his elbow leaning on the mantelpiece.
“Yes! It is not the condition of the ground that would prevent me! It is my own state. I feel as weary and worn out as if I were seventy years old instead of seventeen. In fact, I feel my fatigue even more to-day than I did yesterday.”
“I am sorry to hear that. I had hoped that you had quite recovered. You said that you had slept so soundly.”