“Yes, Dawkins, come in. I’ve not been able to sleep yet. I suppose the evening’s care and excitement has tired me too much. What is it you want? Anything wrong in the dormitory?”
“Well, not to say wrong—or so I hope. I just stepped here to ask is Miss Dorothy Calvert staying the night?”
“Staying with Grace? No, indeed, the child has been asleep for hours: perfectly satisfied now that I and so many others have seen the apparition she had, and so proved her the truthful little creature she’d always been.”
That seemed a very long answer to impatient Dawkins and she clipped it short by asking:
“Then, Ma’am, where do you suppose she is?”
“What? Do you mean that she isn’t in her own place?”
“No, Ma’am, nor sign of her; and it’s terr’ble strange, ’pears to me. I don’t like the look of it, Ma’am, I do not.”
“Pooh! don’t make a mystery out of it, my good woman!” replied Miss Tross-Kingdon, yet with a curious flutter in her usually stern voice. Then she considered the matter for a moment, finally directing:
“Go to the hospital wing and ask if she’s there with Gwendolyn. She’s been so sorry for the girl and I noticed her slipping out of Assembly with a plate full of the things Mr. Gilpin brought. I don’t remember her coming back, but she was certainly absent when her violin was asked for. Doubtless, you’ll find her there, but be careful not to rouse any of the young ladies. Then come back and report.”