That day, owing to the alarm of the previous night and the long swoon, and the awakening in the cold room, Drusilla was unusually ill, both in mind and body; she remained in her chamber, wrapped in her dressing gown and reclining in her easy chair.
But when evening came, from sheer force of habit, she roused herself and gave orders for a fire to be kindled and lamps to be lighted in the drawing-room, and supper to be prepared in case her husband should return.
And she dressed herself with care and went down and seated herself in her usual place to be ready to receive him.
But another long and lonely evening was before her, with an unusual trial at its close.
At ten o’clock, as usual, Pina came in to ask her mistress if there were any more orders and to bid her good night.
“No, Pina, I want nothing more this evening. You may go,” said Drusilla.
“Won’t you let me close the shutters, ma’am, for fear that gashly face will look in again?”
“No, Pina, they must be left open to guide your master home. The night is very dark, and here are no gas-lighted streets, you know,” smiled the little lady, determined not to yield to her fears.
“Well, ma’am,” said the girl, hesitatingly—“Brother Leo, ma’am, he says if you would take the ’sponsibility to give him an order so to do, he would stay in the house until master comes home. Shall I tell him to do it, ma’am?”
“Certainly not. Leo must not disobey his master; nor can I interfere with Mr. Lyon’s arrangements,” answered the faithful wife.