“Oh, Miss Meeke,” exclaimed Wynnette, “I’m afraid she’s half seas over! I mean—I mean——”
“Elva, do you tell me what is all this—if you know,” said the governess, seeing that Wynnette had broken down in her attempt to explain.
“Oh, Miss Meeke,” said Elva, taking up the thread of the discourse, “when we finished playing the duet, she there on the sofa asked for a glass of wine, and Wynnette and I went ourselves to get it for her, and we went into the dining room, where the beautiful wedding table is set out and all the wines in cut-glass decanters on the sideboard. And—and—I am afraid—I know—we made a mistake and poured out a claret glass full of cognac brandy and brought it to her.”
“And did she drink it?”
“Every drop! And she said it was proof brandy, and worth a bottle of common stuff! And then she talked a good deal, and then she lay down on the sofa, and went to sleep.”
“I am very sorry. My dears, you should never meddle with the decanters. You should have called Jacob, who would have known what to bring.”
“But Jake was not in reach. He was away down in the stable yard, talking to a crowd of grooms and other men and boys. I saw him through the back windows, and I knew he was telling them all about what happened in the church. Oh, Miss Meeke, do you think she will die? Oh, just hear how she snores! Will she wake up in fits?” cried Elva, in fright.
“No, my dear,” said the governess, looking attentively upon the woman. “No; don’t be alarmed. I think her condition is as much the effect of reaction from fatigue and excitement as of the brandy. Besides, she is wearing a tight dress, and lying in a cramped position, all of which obstructs her breathing. We must wake her up.”
But at this moment Mr. Force and Leonidas came in, talking eagerly, and their abrupt entrance startled the woman out of her slumber. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, yawned loudly, asked where she was, and expressed a suspicion that she had been asleep.
Wynnette gave her Mrs. Force’s bottle of sal ammonia that stood, by chance, on the sofa table.