“HAVE YOU NOT BEEN DECEIVED THIS TIME?”
When Miss Preston arrived upon the scene Toinette was serenely making her way upstairs, her burdens still in her arms, but supplemented by several lemons and a bottle of pickles. She took no notice whatever of the new arrival, but walked straight to her own room, and, placing her treasures upon her bed, covered them carefully with her bedclothes. At this covert act poor Mrs. Stone gasped despairingly, and, grasping Miss Preston’s arm, said, in a most tragic whisper: “Marion, Marion, what did I tell you?”
But “Marion” was very much alive to the situation, and, had not a slight quiver about Toinette’s mouth while Mrs. Stone was speaking confirmed her suspicions, some very audible giggles from the rooms close at hand would have done so.
Having tucked her ham snugly to bed, Toinette proceeded to tuck herself there, and, with a sigh as innocent as a tired infant’s, she closed those staring eyes and slipped off to the land of dreams.
“Well, I think the first act is ended,” said Miss Preston, with the funniest of smiles, “and we shall not have the second to-night, at any rate. But this one was certainly performed by a star,” and, stepping to Toinette’s bedside, she quietly drew from beneath the covers the “dry stores” there sequestered, placed them upon the table, and then smoothed the clothes carefully about her.
Mrs. Stone began to gather up the articles Miss Preston laid upon the table, and, consequently, did not see her slyly pinch the rosy cheek resting upon the pillow nor the flash of intelligence which two big brown eyes sent back.
They then left Toinette to her slumbers (?), and, after carrying the pilfered articles back to the housekeeper’s pantry, returned to Miss Preston’s room, where Mrs. Stone dropped into the first chair that came handy. She was as near a nervous collapse as she well could be, and came very close to losing her temper when Miss Preston seated herself upon her couch, clasped her hands before her, and laughed as poor Mrs. Stone had never known her to laugh before.
“Why, Marion! Marion!” she cried. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
It was some seconds before Miss Preston could control her voice enough to reply, and, when she did, it proved the very last straw to complete Mrs. Stone’s discomfiture, for her words were:
“Mehitable Stone, had anyone told me that I was sheltering beneath my roof-tree such a consummate actress, I should have been the most surprised woman in Montcliff. Upon my word I never saw anything better done.”