"What has happened?" repeated Miss Margaret, sternly. "Get to the point at once, Andrew."
"It was this way, Miss Margaret," he cried. "Master sent me for a glass of brandy. I brought it to him. He always likes a few drops of cordial put in it, and I went to his dresser, where I had placed the cordial a few minutes before, took up the bottle hurriedly, and shook in a generous quantity. Now it happened that I had also taken out a bottle of drops—quieting drops which master had been taking for the last two nights for a violent toothache—it is a powerful narcotic—to make him sleep and forget his pain, he told me. I—I—don't know how I could have done it; I—I was not conscious of doing it; but somehow I must have put the drops instead of the cordial into his brandy, for he has fallen into a deep sleep, from which I am unable to awaken him."
"Thank Heaven, it is no worse!" sobbed Miss Margaret. "I—I was afraid some terrible accident had happened."
While he was speaking, Sally had run into the corridor and made the pretense of listening to the valet's dilemma, while Antoinette stood back in the shadow laughing to herself at the strange way fate or fortune or luck, or whatever it was, had played into her clever hands.
This was, indeed, an unexpected dilemma. Following the valet into her brother's apartments, she found Andrew's statement indeed true—her brother was in a sound sleep, from which all their efforts were futile to awake him.
"There is nothing else to be done but to go down without him," she said at length in despair, turning to Sally. "The effect of the potion ought to wear off in an hour or so, then he can join the guests."
The entrance of Miss Margaret and the bride created quite a sensation; but when the former explained the ludicrous mistake which caused the doctor's temporary absence from them, their mirth burst all bounds, and the very roof of the grand old mansion shook with peal after peal of hearty laughter.
So the fun and merriment went on until he should join them, and the happy, dazzling, beautiful young bride was the petted queen of the hour.
Old Mrs. Gardiner was greatly disappointed because her beautiful daughter-in-law did not wear the famous family diamonds, but when Sally slipped up to her and whispered that she had forgotten, in her excitement over Jay's mishap, to don them, the old lady was mollified.
The evening ran its length, and ended at last. Midnight had come, giving place to a new moon, and in the wee sma' hours the festive guests had taken their departure, each wishing with a jolly little laugh, to be remembered to their host when he should awake. The lights were out in the magnificent drawing-room and in the corridor.