He was weary with the excitement of the day, and he suddenly felt that some of his distaste was due to hunger, which he was ready enough to appease, being well looked after by his new friend; while the rest of the evening was filled up by faintly heard sounds of music and conversation which seemed to be buzzing around him, as he sat back in one of the many chairs of the grand salon, completely overcome by an invincible sense of drowsiness which seemed dark and cloudy, while out of it came a familiar voice, saying:
“Why, Denis, boy, I have been seeking you everywhere. Saint Simon was looking for you too, and said you must have gone off to bed.”
“Bed—bed?” the boy remembered saying, and then all was confused again till Master Leoni’s voice whispered in his ear:
“Come, wake up.”
“Where’s Carrbroke?” he said drowsily.
“Gone away in attendance on the King, who will soon be leaving the salon. Come, we must be in attendance too.”
The next thing that occurred was the sudden starting up of the boy in his bed, with the bright morning sun shining in through the window.
“Where am I?” he muttered. “How did I come here?” And then by degrees he began to have some faint recollection of Leoni helping him to his room.
“Why, I must have disgraced myself in some way,” he muttered. “What could I have done? Gone to sleep in the middle of that fête? I don’t know; everything seems a blank.”