Meg's soft brown eyes gradually opened and she looked up and smiled.
"If you'll be so good as to let me rest a bit I'll sing to you, Miss," she said. "But till I sat down I didn't know I was so dead beat. I'm just-played-out," then her head drooped and Sheila was only just in time to catch her before she fell.
Her head was on Sheila's lap so that the latter could only call for assistance and was thankful to see Miss Gregson hurrying towards her.
"Oh, Angel, I believe she's dying," she cried, "do get some brandy or something to restore her."
Walter and Elsie the maid who had hurried to her help now ran off for restoratives.
"Carry her up to the West room," said Sheila on their return.
"It's being scrubbed out, M'am," said Elsie, "and disinfected."
"Disinfected! What rubbish! Whose idea was that? I never gave orders for it to be done."
"My dear, I thought it would be advisable," said Miss Gregson, thinking to herself that Sheila's ignorance of the laws of hygiene was appalling.
"Well, if she cannot go there she must be taken into the blue room," said Sheila a little annoyed.