“Ah,” waving a majestic and unbending fan of carved ivory. “She has possibly improved then. I observe that she is going off very much,—in the matter of looks, I mean.”
“I heard a gentleman remark, a few minutes ago,” replied Miss MacDowlas, “that the girl looked like a white rose, and I quite agreed with him; but I am fond of her, as I said, and you are not.”
Her ladyship shuddered faintly, but she did not make any further comment, perhaps feeling that her hostess was too powerful to encounter.
At midnight the visitors went their several ways, and after they had dispersed and the rooms were quiet once again, Miss MacDowlas sent her companion to bed, or, at least, bade her good-night.
“You had better go at once,” she said. “I will remain to give orders to the servants. You look tired. The excitement has been too much for you.”
So Dolly thanked her and left the room; but Miss MacDowlas did not hear her ascend the stairs, and accordingly, after listening a moment or so, went to the room door and looked out into the hall. And right at the foot of the staircase lay Dolly Crewe, the lustreless, trailing black dress making her skin seem white as marble, her pretty face turned half downward upon her arm.
Half an hour later the girl returned to consciousness to find herself lying comfortably in bed, the chamber empty save for herself and Miss MacDowlas, who was standing at her side watching her.
“Better?” she said. “That is right, my dear. The evening was too much for you, as I was afraid it would be. You are not as strong as you should be.”
“No,” Dolly answered, quietly.
There was a silence of a few minutes, during which she closed her eyes again; but she heard Miss MacDowlas fidgeting a little, and at last she heard her speak.