Miss Arsdale hurried upstairs to where in a rear room Marie, with a candle burning beside her, lay in bed done up like a mummy.
"Par Di', Mam'selle Elaine," exclaimed the old housekeeper, her eyes growing brighter at sight of her. "I had a dream about a black horse. Is anything wrong with you?"
"Nothing. And your poor lame knees, Marie—they are better?"
"N'importe," she grunted, "but I do not like the feel of the night. Was M'sieur Ben down there with you?"
"Yes."
"You should be in bed by now. You must go at once."
"I think I shall sleep in the little room off yours to-night."
"Bien. Then if you need anything in the night, you can call me."
Marie was scarcely able to turn herself in her bed, but, she still felt the responsibility of the house.
"Very well, Marie. Good night."