“Good night,” smiled Erminie, vanishing through the door.
Elfie went on to her own chamber, and as soon as her head touched the pillow fell fast asleep.
Elfie slept late the next morning, so late, in fact, that she was at last awakened by Catherine, who came to her with a scared face, roused her and said:
“If you please, ma’am, I wish you would come to Miss Rosenthal!”
“Erminie! what’s the matter with her?” exclaimed Elfie, starting up in alarm.
“Indeed I don’t know, ma’am; but she is very ill; and seems to be raving mad.”
Elfie sprang out of bed, threw on a dressing gown, thrust her naked feet into slippers, and ran at once to the chamber of Erminie.
There upon the bed lay the good and beautiful girl, unconscious of all that was passing around her, and rolling and raving with fever and delirium.
In the extremity of terror, Elfie ran down just as she was, to the library, where her father was sitting alone waiting for his breakfast.
Breathlessly she told him what had happened, and dispatched him to get a physician, saying that he could get one more quickly than a servant could.