At nine-thirty Miss Preston had bade all good-night in an unusually solicitous manner, wishing each happy dreams. Miss Howard had also retired to her room promptly at the stroke of the clock, and everything worked most auspiciously excepting the tucking away of Mother Stone, and she positively refused to be tucked, but kept prowling about like a lost spirit, till Ruth said, in desperation: “If she doesn’t get settled down pretty soon I’ll do something desperate; see if I don’t.”
From room to room she went, popping her head in at one to ask if there was anything she could do for this girl, listening at the next door for sounds of insomnia, creeping stealthily on through the corridors to learn if any girl who ought to be en route for Sleepy Town had by chance missed her way.
She had made her way as far as the lower end of the hall, where on one side the stairs leading to the third story joined it, and on the other a door opened into the bath-room, when a rustle at the head of the stairs caused her to glance quickly in that direction; but it was too dark for her to see anything at the top of them. She paused to listen, and her sharp ears detected the sound again. That was sufficient. Up she flew and came plump upon Lou Cornwall, who had not had time to fly. Lou was stout and did not move quickly, and was fair prey for Mrs. Stone, who was as thin as a match, and managed to glide about like a wraith.
Lou was arrayed in her bath-robe, and had her cap and mask in her hand. Quickly concealing them behind her lest Mrs. Stone’s sharp eyes should discover them even in the dark, she stood stock still waiting developments. Mrs. Stone stooped from her towering height of five feet nine to peer into the face of the plump little figure huddled in the corner. “How you startled me,” she said. “Why are you standing here when everyone else is in bed, and what are you doing up this time of night?”
“I had to get up, Mrs. Stone.”
“Why, may I enquire?”
“I am going to the bath-room.”
“Then, why in the world don’t you go and not stand huddled up here as though you were bent on some mischief? It is no wonder that we suspect you when you take such extraordinary ways of doing perfectly simple things. Go on at once, and, if you have been hesitating because you are timid, I’ll wait here till you return,” and down she planted herself upon the top step to mount guard.
Groaning inwardly, away went Lou, muttering: “If I don’t keep you perched there till you nearly freeze, my name isn’t Lou Cornwall!”
And keep her she did, till Mrs. Stone had another trouble added to her many, for she began to fear that Lou had been taken ill, and went to the bath-room door to speak to her. Finding that she could not hold out any longer, out she came, and, after receiving some very emphatic admonitions from Mrs. Stone, crept away to her room disgusted with herself, the world at large, and Mrs. Stone in particular.