“I just told Dollie that you are staying with me to-night,” she said, calmly, “but to expect you about noon to-morrow; is that right? I can’t possibly think of letting you leave me before eleven.”
“All right,” said Marion, smiling. “I hope she won’t be worried. It’s the first time that I have been away from her since I came from the hospital.”
“Well, you’ll be separated more in future,” thought the woman again, and, as the outlines of a fiendish plan developed slowly before her vision, her mouth curved in a sneer, which was promptly changed into a smile for Marion’s benefit.
“Here we are at home!” she cried, as the carriage stopped again. “My flat is not beautiful, but it is very cozy, and you shall have a room to yourself, so you will be perfectly comfortable.”
“But I shall not feel that I am much company for you if I do not remain in the room with you,” said Marion, smiling.
“Oh, I’ll feel all right just to know that you are with me. If I can’t sleep I’ll wake you up and make you talk to me.”
“All right,” said Marion, “I’ll agree to that; but, dear me, what a pretty home!” she cried, as she stood gazing into the apartment.
“Here’s a negligé for you,” said Carlotta, gayly, as she took a flimsy wrapper from the wardrobe and tossed it to Marion.
“It’s a trifle too negligé,” said Marion, laughing, as she tried to pull the dainty lace up over her white throat and shoulders.
The woman was busy making herself comfortable also, and as she moved about she talked so gayly and laughed so often that Marion began to wonder if she had forgotten her friend’s death completely.