Pina mixed a composing draught of tincture of valerian and water and brought it to her mistress.
Drusilla drank it, and its effect upon her sensitive system was instantaneous and powerful. Though her eyes still streamed with tears, the convulsive heavings of her bosom subsided, and she became comparatively calm.
“Now, mist’ess, darlin’, you just let me help you to bed and you lay still and keep quiet. And I will darken the room and sit by you. And may be you will go to sleep and then you will be better.”
And Drusilla, docile as a child now, suffered her maid to put her to bed.
While the girl was smoothing the white counterpane and making everything tidy about the dainty couch, Drusilla suddenly put her hand to her throat and with a frightened look cried out:
“Where—where is—?”
“Oh, you mean the little black silk bag, ma’am, that was tied around you neck?” inquired Pina.
“Yes! yes! where is it?”
“I took it off when I undressed you, while you were in your fainty fit.”
“Where did you put it?”