With a wild stare at him, Mrs. De Peyster sank back in her chair and closed her eyes.
"She's fainted!" cried Mary. "Her smelling-salts!"
"A glass of water!" exclaimed Jack.
"No, no," breathed Mrs. De Peyster.
But the pair had darted away, Mary into the bedroom, Jack into the bathroom. From the bathroom came a sudden, jangling din like the sheet-iron thunder of the stage.
Mary reappeared, fresh amazement on her face.
"Somebody's been using the bedroom! The bed's not made, and your clothes are all about!"
The next moment Jack rushed in behind her.
"What a stack of empty tin cans I kicked into in the bathroom! What the deuce has been going on here?"