CHAPTER XII
A BATTLE ROYAL
That night was another wakeful one for Phœbe. She had thoroughly enjoyed the lawn fête, but it left her too nervous for peaceful slumber until her pulses had calmed down and she was enabled to regain her accustomed composure. She went to bed, but not to sleep, and after the house became quiet she lay thinking over the incidents of the evening.
Gradually peace came to her. She was really tired, and the somnolent thrall of midnight was making her drowsy when she was roused by the movements of old Elaine in the next room.
It had been nearly a week since she had removed the board over the transom and prepared her peephole, but during that time the housekeeper had remained quiet, or at least Phœbe had not heard her. To-night the stealthy sounds began again, and after listening a few moments the girl softly arose, drew the table to a position before the door and mounted upon it.
She tried to be quiet, but probably she made some sound in these preparations, for scarcely had she slid the corner of the board away, to look into the next room, when the light which faintly illumined it was suddenly extinguished.
Phœbe stood motionless, waiting. Elaine, doubtless alarmed, did not stir for a long time. The old woman may have scented danger without realizing in what manner it threatened her, but her caution was excessive. At last, Phœbe heard her breathe a low sigh and then patter softly across the room to her bed and lie down.
The seance was over for to-night, without doubt. Exercising great care, the girl noiselessly descended from her perch and, tiptoeing to bed, composed herself to slumber.
Next morning, in considering the night’s occurrence, she decided to leave the table where it stood—before the door—and to place a chair beside it so she could mount noiselessly at any moment. It was several days, however, before Elaine recovered from her fright or suspicions, and during that time no unusual sounds came from her room.
It rained the morning after Marion’s party, and Phœbe was curious to know if all the pretty lanterns had been wetted and destroyed. But, on looking across at the lawn she discovered that every trace of last night’s festivities had been removed by the servants. Tents, lanterns, band stand, all had been taken away as soon as the guests had departed, and the Randolph grounds were as trim and orderly as before.
The children resented the rain, for it kept all of them except Phil, who was at work, cooped up in the house until after dinner. Judith found time, during the dreary forenoon, to tell them some stories and to talk over with them once again the adventures of the lawn fête, which still occupied their minds.